Winter turns Kolob into a fortress of ice and snow, your white fur making you nearly invisible against the frozen landscape. The Stone Watchtower stands like a spear of defiance against the gray sky, its crystalline formations pulsing with power that keeps even the winter storms at bay within your territory.

Your glasses reflect the Heartstone's steady glow as you maintain the barriers that have made your domain impenetrable. The Life Stream flows in its purest form here, undiluted by human interference or modern compromise. Even the snow falls differently within your boundaries, creating patterns that disorient any who dare to venture too close.

Through your enhanced senses, you observe the nearest town through the swirling snow. They've built their new church facing away from Kolob, as if to deliberately turn their backs on mysteries too profound to contemplate. The professor's final expedition notes have become a cautionary tale in academic circles, warning of the folly of trying to study this “geographical anomaly.”

Your crystalline attachments resonate with satisfied power. The network of wards and barriers you've established has grown so strong that it begins to influence the very fabric of space within your territory. Paths shift their destinations, time flows at subtle but irregular rates, and the very air seems to reject human presence.

The Heartstone's chamber, sealed by forces both ancient and new, pulses with energy that would be terrifying if anyone could still get close enough to feel it. The Star Map Caves have become a maze that leads trespassers in circles. The Underground Lake might as well exist in another dimension for all the chance anyone has of finding it.

You stand atop your watchtower, a solitary figure against the winter sky. Through the Life Stream, you occasionally sense other guardians far away, each maintaining similar islands of isolation in the rising tide of the modern world. No greetings are exchanged, no acknowledgments made – only a shared understanding of the importance of standing apart.

The old ways remain pure here, unchanged by time or human understanding. Your domain has become something beyond legend – a blank space on maps, a gap in human knowledge, a place where the ancient powers remain undiluted by the passage of ages.

The winter wind carries no human voices, no modern sounds. Only the crystal-clear note of power preserved in its most pristine form.