Arctic Survivor

















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"Welcome the embrace of frost. The sheer vastness of the Backrooms has held us back for so long. The definite cold is no longer a barrier! Humanity is at last free in the Backrooms!"

-The Arctic Survivor. I could tell you all about the events leading up to this speech. Apparently surviving a couple days in Level 93 is some amazing feat that I accomplished. I could care less about it, if I'm being honest.



Another call by my literal favorite people! Those bastards forcing me to leave my cabin. I was literally just enjoying a nice hot cup of homemade coco. Not anymore! Apparently they have some sort of strange occurrence in Level 93. They said they'll give me info on-site, which I doubt I need in the first place.

I've taken the shortest route to the site, of course they've debriefed me, which in reality was just a waste of time. Those fools thinking they need to tell me of all people what to do. Apparently there has been an increase in the average death count. What does that even mean? More people dying! Ah! And what stumps me the most is why there are deaths in the first place. Cold is not the God of Death or anything. Cold is my life, so even if it was, I'd worship it.



I guess I can call this Day 1. I hope I never figure this out because it's quite nice in here. Well, it could be nicer if I didn't find all these dead corpses scattered deep in the snow. It's to the point where you don't notice them until you kick them, funny actually. They always have this deeply scared look on their face. Wanderers and entities alike. I don't understand it, to be straight up with you. I'm alive, they're dead, so what? I'd help them if I could but it's far too late to waste my time. The fact that there are so many of them proves that something is off. Not the cold, it's the same as usual, sitting here to blissfully guide you, but something is wrong. I'll give them that. They were right.



Day 2. Though I'm optimistic, I'm no superhero. Actually, I am a superhero when it comes to the cold. Everything else? No, not really. I give speeches, I guess? I'd kill to not have to, but they always force me to be up on the podium, speaking to hundreds. They award me needless medals, really just a waste of materials for achievements not even worth noting. Through the night, I can note it's getting colder. Nothing too much for me, of course, but- hold on I see someone.

Even in this cold, entities can be a pain. I found two Wanderers struggling to move in the snow. Looks like an entity tried to kill them. Carrying both their bodies is awkward at best, but the challenge is good. I'll never improve my survival and first-responder skills if I don't push myself. This isn't the most I've done, but it's not the easiest. It is pretty easy though, just a little awkward. But it's easy, not a single challenge for me.



It's barely Day 3, dawn hasn't even come yet. I've collected yet another unconscious body. They are fine for the most part. I managed to stabilize the state of the other two. Currently they are on the verge of death, so I guess I should leave- God damn it, is that really another person?

I count four. And the fact that another came unconsciously along right as I was about to leave doesn't help. I was planning to stay for only a couple days, so I guess it worked alright. But this is quite the challenge now, I'll say that much. I should bring them to my cabin, some of these bodies are close to death. Luckily for all of us, the exit is pretty close.



Just because I expected this doesn't make it any better. They told me to walk to the podium and give a speech. I could care more, and it'd still be in the realm of not caring. Every time. Every god damn time they yap on about how amazing I am and that I need to give a speech. It's one thing to ask me to give a speech, I hate giving those, and it's another thing entirely to patronize me about all my accomplishments. I'm not that amazing, let me live in peace. It's always one way or another that I end up saving a life. Like, I'm glad I saved a life, but I've saved so many that it all blurs together at some point. Oh- it's time.

My androgenous voice was apparently memorable enough that I can recognize a few of the people that attend my speeches every time. In total there are probably fifty-or-so people listening to my speeches, out of which, about five come every time, no matter the level. I don't understand. I give my silly little speeches then move on with my life. Why do people care enough to come listen to them? I'll never understand. As I walk up to the podium, a few people cheer, they hold me up on stage by asking me a few godforsaken questions, and I finally get on with my awful speech, "Welcome the embrace of frost...





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