By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box.
Only the box is a world of its own.
We are a mass crossover based on the concept of Pandora's Box. Characters from nearly any fandom can be played here. Because of the endless character possibilities, we are canon only here at Pandora. Take a peek at our rules and plot information before starting your new life in Pandora.
Your footsteps are slower, your breathing heavier. It should be easier to breath at this height and yet, your chest is heaving with what should be a normal breath. You feel sicker than you did before and suddenly you realize that everything around you has gone silent on the mountain. Every bird, every insect, everyone but you and your group... silent. Only the wind scraping against every crag and your body sharply.
You glance over your shoulder and then see it. Large paw prints in the snow, but with no beast creating them. At least, not one you can see. More paw prints form, heading directly towards you. The falling snow outlines a shape of a large beast, though you have to squint to make it out. The hulking form is stalking you and that's when you realize that there are far more paw prints forming behind you.
Yet some of the hounds catch up to you, slashing and biting at your legs. You jump down several feet off a small ledge in order to get away, but you're bleeding heavier than before.
For @Cal Kestis, @Revan, @Ryuko Matoi, @Keith Kogane, and @Red XIII the prolonged affects of the prom dust snow are just too much and you're not able to run away from the beast that stalks you. Claws and fangs rip into you, leaving you a mess on bloody snow.
For @Diego Brando & @Hajime Hinata the cold proves to be too much and you fall behind your group, frozen in a corner somewhere, unable to continue on.
You know snow is cold and it isn't so great when you're supposed to be warm. People are warm naturally and seek it out. That's the whole deal, which makes this trip the opposite of what you wanted. You can cope with it, it just makes you snuggle a bit closer into your own jacket. It's not any colder than it was before, but even behind your layers you feel yourself shiver.
It's not a typical shiver. It's the sort that makes your hair stand on end, the sort that they show in horror themed media. You don't feel like you're being watched, although you still scan the environment just in case. It's empty, but your eyes think you catch a glimpse at something near one of the trees.
Pale and see-through, you find another version of yourself. Maybe you're younger, crying over something or the other. Or perhaps they look the same as you, only their expression is stern and disappointed. Even scarier, perhaps they look like you but older. Worn by the world, tired. No matter how they appear to you, the second you approach the ghostly version of yourself leaps at you. None of you make it away without a scratch or three.
You're injured, but okay, and that's the important thing. You wonder if trying to get down, get off the mountain, was the wrong call, but you aren't sure if there was a right one, and you also can't see your way back. You've committed to this, now. It sucks, but there isn't a better choice. It barely seems possible, but the temperature has gotten colder, your breath misting in front of you and the people with you.
There's a clearing in the distance, and, when you reach it, you see yourself. When you reach forward, so does the other you, and it takes you a moment to realise that its your reflection, visible in ice so clear it may as well be glass. You step around it, and see that it is far from the only one. You're surrounded by them, your own reflections, and you can't see the way forward anymore. You try to thread maze of mirrors, but don't get anywhere.
In the end, you just smash one. They break easily, but splinter, like glass. Every one you break cuts you more and more, but it's the only way to get out. In the end, you're covered with little cuts, shards of ice sticking out of your hand, and you might have frostbite, but at least the way ahead is clear.