Snow Battel Arena

📝 Special Statement

The air bites at your lungs with a cold so sharp it feels like inhaling broken glass. You stand in the center of a frozen coliseum where the very ground beneath your boots is a weapon waiting to be packed into a lethal sphere. This is a first-person struggle for survival against an army of frost-bitten nightmares that do not know the meaning of exhaustion. Your pockets are deep and your supply of ammunition is as infinite as the blizzard howling around the jagged arena walls. Every snowball you hurl whistles through the frigid air with the intent of a lead slug. ❄️ The first wave of snowmen emerges from the whiteout with coal-black eyes fixed on your position.

Movement is the only currency that matters when the temperature drops this low. You cannot afford to stand still as the horizon fills with a mob of grinning icy statues. You launch into a dash that leaves a blur of white in your wake and use the verticality of the arena to gain a momentary advantage. Jumping from a frost-covered ledge allows you to rain down a barrage of frozen projectiles on the clusters below. The animation of the winter wasteland is a beautiful distraction from the mounting body count at your feet. 🎮 Every dodge is a frantic calculation of physics and timing as you weave through a crossfire of slush and ice.

The difficulty curve is a steep mountain that grows taller with every passing minute of the skirmish. The early waves are a mere warm-up for the mechanical brutality that follows as the snowmen grow larger and more resilient. You hit a target square in the chest only to see it shake off the impact and keep lumbering forward. This is where your dash ability becomes a lifeline rather than a luxury. You find yourself trapped in a rhythmic cycle of fire and flight while the arena shrinks under the weight of the encroaching horde. 🕹️ The sound of snow hitting snow becomes a rhythmic pulse that tracks the countdown of your own survival.

The question of how long you can last hangs in the air like a frozen breath. You see the next wave shimmering into existence and tighten your grip on the next handful of packed powder. There is no retreat from the ice and no warmth to be found until the final snowman falls or you become a permanent fixture of the tundra. Every second survived is a testament to your reflexes and your willingness to fight the elements themselves. 🎲 You pivot on your heel and release a final desperate shot toward the leader of the pack as the blizzard reaches a deafening roar. The frozen arena demands everything you have before the thaw finally comes.

📋 Instructions