A barren wasteland of white stretched toward a black horizon. The looming moon illuminated the darkened sky as moonlight reflected from the glistening snow.

The scientists looked over the ridge at the French Fräulein below. With their hands raised over their heads, they motioned to her to – jump up and out!

“Springen!” Hans yelled.

The ground rumbled; they reached to brace themselves as the blue and green fragments collided against the precipitous cavern walls. The ground shook with a more thunderous quake and the sounds of the woman’s screams chilled the frigid air.

She was gone; darkness engulfed the beautiful stranger. As she fell further away from them, her screams for help were mere after-effects of earth’s rumble as it echoed in the blackness.

The quaking had pushed the two men closer to the edge of the abyss. Hans slid, turning, trying to grab hold. Alarick pushed up in an attempt to stand, but slipped on the ice. There was nothing they could do; they were falling into the dark void below them.