The paddle sliced through the water, cutting down deep and propelling the canoe forward. The canoeist handled the oar like an expert, keeping the craft moving at a steady and rapid speed. As the sun shone done on the he made his way through the water weaving around ice and small white islands that had broken off from the mainland. His eyes constantly searched the huge snow covered landmass in front of him, checking for any kind of movement.

Alongside him two huge dorsal fins broke the surface, cutting through the calm waters even faster than he was. The fins where black and as the man in the canoe craned his neck for a better look he saw two large black and white forms gliding along. The killer whales swam off, leaving the canoeist on his own.

An hour later he reached the mainland. He dragged the small craft ashore with him and laid it down in the snow, where its white mass was almost invisible. He knelt down beside it and took his equipment from inside. As the cold winds blew across the pure white landscape he stood.

He was wearing Artic gear, a thick white coat with matching combats. Slung across his shoulder was a rifle. His face was covered in brown stubble, his unkempt hair kept in some form of order by a green bandana. A small pair of blue snow goggles hung around his neck and his white boots held firm upon the slippery surface of the ground.

Solid Snake looked around and a wry smile formed on his lips. He pulled the hood of the coat around his head and began to walk, trudging through the snow, further into the white nothing.