Waddle through a snowy landscape as a penguin, leaving wobbly silver trails in the frost like stitching diamonds into a blank canvas. Chill electronic beats hum in your ears, blending with the distant crunch of ice and the soft swish of your flippers against the snow—every step a syncopated rhythm in the quiet. Meander past glowing blue ice arches, where the music echoes in dreamy reverbs, until you spot a flash of iridescent feathers ahead. There, a fellow penguin turns, its chest shimmering like northern lights, a frozen starling trapped in the ice beneath its beak. When it tilts its head to meet your gaze, the frost on its lashes trembles, and the world feels both vast and wonderfully small.