Vata stood where he was, stretching his sore arms while Twain was speaking. He didn't bother asking about some of the unfamiliar terms that he was using, since, like most of the other strange things that he had heard about here, it probably wouldn't make much more sense even if it was explained to him. However, one thing Twain said was something he understood. He said that despite all of the gruesome deaths that occurred here, there were no ghosts. When Twain said that, he felt vaguely uneasy. Ghosts were mostly just things out of stories meant to scare children in the world that Vata was from. However, from what the Spirit of Inspiration "told" him, very occasionally the spirits would choose not to return a person's soul to the spirit plane, and the unfortunate individual would be doomed to wander the world forever as a disembodied wraith. As disturbing as this was, it seemed terribly unlikely that there would ever be a large number of them in an area.

Before Vata could say anything about this, the strange rumbling noise gradually grew louder until it became a deafening roar. The noise that they had been hearing was an avalanche, and it was entirely possible it was heading directly towards them. The castle began to shake from the sheer intensity of the noise, and while it seemed like a few people out of the group were shouting commands at each other, he could not hear them. He saw Alexavier split in two again, and both ran out of the castle. The half he remembered as Xavier returned a moment later carrying XIII with little effort, but the other half of him did not return. 

The dread Vata felt when he first woke up in this frozen wasteland started to creep back into him. Things had been looking hopeful, but now something other than the cold posed a threat to not just his life, but to the lives of everyone he had just met in this unfamiliar world.