Chapter 4: Survival of the Strong

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Michael walked through the icy wasteland, his boots crunching softly in the thick snow. His eyes scanned the open white, always alert. In the distance, he spotted a large shape moving toward him-a polar bear, its massive frame towering above the snow. With a low growl, it broke into a run, charging straight at him.

Michael didn't hesitate. He raised his shotgun, took aim, and fired. The blast hit the bear in the stomach, but it kept charging, its breath coming out in furious clouds. Michael dodged quickly, moving in circles around it, his fingers fumbling to reload the shotgun as the bear slowed, visibly weakening, struggling to breathe.

He took one more step back, his shotgun pointed at the bear's head. Just as he steadied his aim, three small polar bear cubs suddenly ran to their mother, pressing against her in fear. Michael lowered the gun for a brief moment, staring coldly at the sight.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, barely audible. "But it's survival of the strong in this world."

With a final charge, the mother bear lunged at him one last time, and Michael fired, hitting her in the skull. She crumpled, falling dead beside her cubs. The young ones nudged their mother, letting out small, mournful cries, but Michael only watched, expressionless.

Suddenly, a faint voice broke the silence from behind him. "Help me... I can't find my mommy."

Michael turned, his instincts flaring. Without a second thought, he grabbed his rifle, pointing it at the small figure of a young girl standing in the snow, her face streaked with tears. And there, with his rifle aimed at her.

END OF CHAPTER 4

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