#vot cold

They're all meant to share at least one trait with their respective princess(es), except hero he's just generic (though hero's probably my favorite of these, art-wise at least, he's cute; my favorite design-wise is probably broken or contrarian)

Contrarian is based on that two-faced cat that has the one middle eye stretched between the two faces, you know what I'm talking about? That was what I was thinking of when designing him

They also all have unique feather shapes

They're meant to be pretty simple on purpose, when drawn digitally they'd be silhouettes with white line details

Cold has no legs, he's a ghost

Also Smitten is intentionally drawn in a simpler style with minimal sketching

Chapter I – The Hero and The Princess

There are two major ways to interpret how Voice Hatching works:

The Voices are manifested by the Decider's choices. The manner in which the Decider behaves, the things they experience, and the trauma they endure influence the Voice hatched upon their death. Their personality, philosophy, and perspective are informed by what the Long Quiet collectively has gone through. The Egg (previous iterations of the Decider) hatches into The Chicken (Voice).

The Decider's choices are manifested by the Voices. The options the Decider has are reactions to their environment and circumstances, adulterated with the impulses and personality of nascent Voices waiting to hatch. The Chicken (Voice) lays The Egg (options the Decider picked in the previous Chapter).

There are more than two ways to interpret how Voices operate, and most you ask this question to will say something in-between these two black and white options. Ultimately, it's inarguable that a Voice is always connected to the events preceding their hatching in some manner. It is not the fact of influence the debate is centered on, but the interpretable extent. The fact is openly supported by the text.

What conditions does the Long Quiet meet, when hatching Voice of the Cold in Chapter I?

The Narrator provides The Long Quiet with a set of instructions. Dutifully, it carries them out without the slightest hint of doubt. It does not ask questions; it does not hesitate. It is told to ignore Voice of the Hero, and ignore him it does. It is told to end this, and end it it does.

•    Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me what to do. The Narrator – Don't mention it. It's all part of the job.

…

Voice of the Hero – We're not going to go through with this, right? She's a princess. We're supposed to save princesses, not slay them. The Narrator – Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about.

…

The Narrator – She's unarmed. If you hesitate now, it'll be too late. End this. •    [Slay the Princess.] The Narrator – You lunge forward without a moment's hesitation.

…

The Narrator – With your work done, you make your way back up the stairs, closing the door to the basement behind you. Voice of the Hero – Why do I feel like we've done something terrible? The Narrator – You did kill someone. Greater good or not, something would be very wrong with you if you didn't feel at least a little bad. But it was for the greater good. One of these days, that will sink in and help ease your guilty conscience.

Its guilty conscience is eased. It prepares to leave. It was told it had saved the world from certain doom; it is ready to return to that world.

It is denied.

It witnesses itself; a “vast emptiness” and “some place far away.”

•    [Leave.] The Narrator – You open the cabin door, ready to return to a world saved from certain doom. – Only, a world saved from certain doom isn't what you find. Instead, what you find is nothing at all. Where a lush forest stood mere minutes ago, the only thing in front of you now is the vast emptiness of some place far away. Voice of the Hero – What... happened? The Narrator – Everyone is fine, it's just that you and the cabin are now far away from them. Don't worry. You'll be safe here. This is good. Everyone is happy. You'll be happy.

…

•    Oh. Okay. The Narrator – I'm so glad you're keeping an open mind.

For the first time, it questions the Narrator. For the first time, it listens to Voice of the Hero. Possibly for the first time, it (Explores) outside of what He tells it at all.

Voice of the Hero is able to connect the Decider back with themself; he is able to tell them, based on his own emotional experience, that the Narrator is just telling them they’re happy. He appeals to them telling them there’s more for them to do out there, and they’re currently stuck here. He tells them their current existence is not like being alive.

There is nothing to do here. He is only telling them that they are happy. They don’t truly feel it. 

•    (Explore) Didn't you hear The Narrator? I'm happy. We're happy. Voice of the Hero – Are we really happy, or is He just telling us that we are? •    Hmm, okay maybe I'm not happy. And I'm not just saying that because you're the last person I talked to. Voice of the Hero – Good, because I have an idea to get us out of here. Though you're probably not going to like it. – The blade. We can use the blade to get out of this.

…

Voice of the Hero – […] It's the only way out.

…

Voice of the Hero – […] There's more for us to do, and the only way for us to do it is to take that blade and use it.

…

•    (Explore) Wouldn't 'using' the blade... you know, kill us? Wouldn't we be dead?

…

Voice of the Hero – In a sense, we'd die, but looking at things from another angle, are we even really alive anymore? This place... it's nothing! It's absolutely nothing. It's just the same thing, constantly, forever. – I know this is out there, but trust me, I know using the blade will work.

The Decider must either be convinced by Voice of the Hero here or call the Happy Ending “hell” in order to proceed with the storyline, and to escape. And they must kill themself to escape it.

•    Anything to get out of this hell.

…

The Narrator – I made this happy little place for you! Is this not a good enough reward for saving the world? An eternity of bliss? You... you ingrate! – Fine. Whatever. For the first time since time stopped meaning anything, you throw open the door to the basement and walk down the stairs. – The Princess' body is dust and bones, though the blade you used to slay her is still as pristine as the day you first held it. – You pick up the blade, you stab yourself, and you die. – The end. Nice knowing you.

Critically, the timelessness perceived in the moments between opening the door to stare into the abyss and slaying oneself to be rid of the stagnation is so dilated in Quiet's perception that the Princess's corpse is reduced to a skeleton by the time the Decider plucks the Pristine Blade from its ribcage and inserts it into their own.

A Decider which is Cold at their core follows a brief character arc in Chapter I. If not trusting, they are still inherently unskeptical. They don’t question the Narrator’s plot, and they follow His instructions without much fanfare. It is only when the Decider is told to stay locked up in a box for eternity that they begin to question things, and even then, there are multiple (Explore) options to take which question the idea of not listening to the Narrator or Voice of the Hero’s suicide plan. (Of course, the Decider may also simply immediately deny their scripted fate and accept Hero’s plan on the spot. The important thing to note is that they didn’t question the Narrator initially, and were betrayed.)

The Decider is also confident. They do not question whether or not the Princess is capable of defending herself from them. They cleanly execute her in a single strike, and do not doubt their own ability after she falls instantly. They do not linger on the Princess much, if at all; they walk in, do their job, and leave it at that. This line of action is inherently incurious. They do not even opt to take their blade with them. They leave it in the basement once their task is complete, and have to go back down into the basement in order to retrieve it; this also indicates a lack of foresight on their part, since they did not consider a situation in which the blade could be useful beyond its immediate purpose.

The Decider, critically, must kill themself at the end of Chapter I. They must form a dissociation between themself, their life, and their body. They also must open the cabin door and see The Long Quiet, the textured nothingness which makes up their divine flesh; they must bear witness to an inherent truth about themselves, a truth they cannot comprehend and are not yet capable of connecting with.

The Decider dies in Chapter I having made no significant emotional bonds, and belonging nowhere. The Princess was slain without hesitation, leaving them no room to get to know her; their first impression of her was sparse, vapid, and ultimately meaningless. The only opinion they had of the Narrator in the end was that He promised them something, and gave them nothing, after they did everything He asked of them. And their connection to Voice of the Hero is one of the weakest in all Chapter I progressions; he is ignored for the majority of the route, even his concern which may lead to Razor ignored.

When Voice of the Cold hatches, with the Chapter II transition, he has the chance to reflect on the experiences of Chapter I. A subdued resentment towards the Narrator is his most recognizable sentiment.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Cold – Oh, we listened to you plenty. We slew the Princess, just like you asked us to. And then you locked us away in an empty void for eternity. So we slew ourselves, too. The Narrator – Well, if you killed yourself then you weren't listening to me. Because I would never want you to do that. Believe it or not, I care about you.

Voice of the Cold – And then what?

…

The Narrator – What do you mean, 'after?' Voice of the Cold – You already know what we mean, don't you? So why don't you go ahead and tell us? Are you going to try and lock us away in a timeless void again? Because I didn't much care for that. The Narrator – I'm not going to lock you anywhere. Voice of the Cold – What an interesting choice of emphasis.

Cold is interesting because, as I'll point out later, you need to read between the lines and in the negative spaces quite often to gauge what he's thinking. Here, though, back in the woods again, Cold's an open book. 

He describes the Happy Ending as the Narrator locking them away in an “empty, timeless void.” In the basement of Chapter II – The Spectre, he actively confronts the Narrator on the topic; and, when reflecting on it, he uses the first-person pronoun and perspective to declare “I didn’t much care for that.” The Narrator follows this by declaring His own revealing first-person pronoun usage, which Cold picks up on; for both, the use of the pronoun “I” is an “interesting choice of emphasis.”

Down the line in this route, in Chapter III – The Princess and the Dragon, Cold is still bitter about these events; though, he has more vocabulary to describe the experience. He tells Opportunist and Hero “hard work often goes unappreciated,” a line which makes most sense when taken and applied to the context of the Decider’s previous attempts to appease the Narrator. They do everything He asks them to in Chapter I and are “locked away” for their efforts; and, when opting to slay the Princess alongside themself in Chapter II, we know from other routes that the Narrator cannot recall beyond the Chapter He starts in, meaning the Him in Chapter III would be physically incapable of recognizing the Long Quiet’s sacrifice in Chapter II.

[Chapter III – The Princess and The Dragon]

Voice of the Opportunist – Don't feel bad! Life is all about taking the easy wins. You don't think the people at the top got there because they worked for it, do you? Voice of the Hero – I mean, of course they did? Hard work is important. Voice of the Cold – Eh. Hard work often goes unappreciated. Why bother?

And so, Cold feels “unappreciated.” It’s a rather complex emotion for him to recognize, and a sign of a degree of rumination and reflection on His part; a subtle sign of character development between Chapter I and III.

Voice of the Cold inherently believes the Long Quiet, and himself (by extension), to be “special.” He accepts the Narrator’s statement as such as fact; noteworthy, considering he doesn’t often entertain or care for the Narrator outside of this.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Hero – Oh. I didn't know we were special. Voice of the Cold – Of course we're special.

In any other Chapter II, following Hero’s flustering at being called special, the Narrator follows with “of course you’re special, why else would you be here?” He does not get the chance, here. The “why else would you be here” rhetorical question is dropped; the “why,” the Long Quiet’s ‘purpose’ as He defines it, is omitted. His manipulation attempts of the Long Quiet aren’t taken the way He would prefer them to be. Voice of the Cold takes his own meaning from others’ assertions of what he and they are.

But why does Voice of the Cold believe this? Is it some form of eldritch awareness, a higher understanding of himself and The Long Quiet as an inherently divine being? Or can it be sourced from a more mundane place: his lived experiences in this same route?

Inherently, by the events of Chapter I, the Narrator implies the Long Quiet is not “part of everyone.” His “reward” for the Long Quiet is something He makes “special,” “just for it.” 

•    (Explore) Do I get some sort of reward for doing this? The Narrator – Yes, but you'll have to slay her before you get it. •    (Explore) Can you tell me what my prize is going to be for doing a good job? The Narrator – It's a secret, but I think you'll like it. It's a special reward, just for you. And whatever you think it might be, I can promise you it's going to be even better than your wildest imagination.

A special reward for a special thing. 

When He describes the events of the Happy Ending, He claims “everyone is happy,” and it “will be happy,” separating them not just in the syntax of the two separated sentences, but likewise temporally. Everyone is, presently, happy; the Long Quiet will be made, in the future, happy. Not to mention its physical disconnect from the outside world.

[Chapter III – The Princess and The Dragon]

The Narrator – Inaction is still a choice. If you turn around and leave, you're damning everyone to death. Voice of the Opportunist – But we're not damning ourself. The Narrator – You're part of everyone. Voice of the Cold – Are we now?

Voice of the Cold knows, not by eldritch awareness, but by observation, that the Long Quiet is not part of the “everyone” the Narrator talks about. They are something else. They are “special.”

- —⌔— -

Chapter II – The Spectre

Our first impression of Voice of the Cold comes from either exploring in the woods…

Voice of the Hero – If He doesn't remember what happened, then maybe it's best to keep it that way. Voice of the Cold – That's fine. It wasn't very hard to kill her last time. We'll just do it again.

…or by proceeding to the cabin, without further exploration.

The Narrator – A warning, before you go any further... – She will lie, she will cheat, and she will do everything in her power to stop you from slaying her. Don't believe a word she says. Voice of the Cold – She won't be a problem.

Both of these lines, as well as Voice of the Cold’s title reveal, are an important element of the narrative in introducing him as a character. He is, as his name implies, “cold” — in the sense of our actions in Chapter I, a “cold-blooded killer.” His voice direction and acting by Jonathan Sims is also monotone and not particularly emotive; this, paired with his mostly inexpressive diction in his dialogue, gives off a sort of empty vibe to his character, as if he were muted and not particularly passionate about anything.

Both of these opening lines for his character, one should note, are also reactive to things other characters say. Cold is unemphasized. He is passive in the narrative. It’s Hero who provides character conflict with direct distrust in the woods dialogue, and Cold’s dialogue when proceeding to the cabin truly just passively moves the narrative along without doing much beyond influencing the tone.

Contrast Voice of the Cold, in Chapter II, with Voice of the Hero, in Chapter I. Hero immediately asserts himself as the Decider’s moral compass. He affirms their actions if they turn back in the woods, and if they instead choose to continue forward, he questions the Narrator and directly tells the Decider what we should do instead, offering his perspective on the situation and a new option for them to follow. His characterization and personality is strong. Cold is subdued and subtle. He offers no new perspective. His lines are brief, curt. It appears he has very little to say for the time being.

There is one thing, however, which can get Cold to reveal a little extra something about himself. A third option.

•    [Turn around and leave.] Voice of the Cold – Oh? Do you think there's something else out there? All right, let's see what we can find. It's bound to be more interesting than doing the same thing over again.

Cold expresses a lot more interest when the Decider breaks from the mold. Voice of the Hero, in Chapter I, says “there’s more for us to do,” and they intended to leave the cabin outright earlier. Where did they intend to go? Somewhere else. A place they’re meant to be. Something like...

"I think… this is where I'm meant to be…" – The Spectre (Chapter II)

"I don't know. But it feels like home." – Voice of the Cold (Oblivion)

Home. 

The Narrator in Chapter I and the Spectre in Chapter II both allude to The Long Quiet, the location and textured emptiness, as “some place far away” in exact wording.

The Narrator – You open the cabin door, ready to return to a world saved from certain doom. – Only, a world saved from certain doom isn't what you find. Instead, what you find is nothing at all. Where a lush forest stood mere minutes ago, the only thing in front of you now is the vast emptiness of some place far away.

The Spectre – I don't know where home is. I just know it isn't here. But I can feel it calling to me from some place far away. – Wherever I'm supposed to be, it's out there.

And, in their respective reunions with the Long Quiet — Cold, in Oblivion, and Spectre, at the end of her route and when imminently claimed by the Shifting Mound — they claim to have, explicitly in Cold’s case and implicitly in Spectre’s case, found their way back home. Of all Vessels, the Spectre is the most welcoming to her being as an aspect of a divine whole; she is one of the only Princesses to accept the cold of her capture without complaint, even seeming to be put at ease by it. Of all Voices, the Cold is likewise most welcoming to the idea of being a part of a whole; he is neither afraid of Oblivion nor of the Mirror, while most other Voices report a sense of dread or distortion in either case.

But beyond their relationship to the divine and to the authority of their divine selves (the Entity and the Decider), Spectre and Cold share a far simpler character parallel and motive outside of the metanarrative. Both are aspects of “longing,” as per the Stranger poem. Longing for what?

Home. A life. A real life.

"I want what you took from me. A life. A real life. I just want to go home." – The Spectre (Chapter II)

The Spectre, in this chapter, is understandably angry with the Long Quiet for “taking her life” in the literal sense of us having murdered her. Cold, too, is upset at their life having been metaphorically taken from them. The Long Quiet, canonically, by-the-text, expected to exit the cabin to a "world saved from certain doom" and was blindsided and betrayed by the Narrator's Happy Ending scheme. Hence why the Decider has the "you bastard!" option in Chapter II – The Spectre, only ever reserved beyond that for Damsel, Prisoner, and Stranger; routes where the Narrator is an active antagonist to them.

The Narrator – Had you failed to slay the Princess, what would have happened to everyone in the place you left? Voice of the Cold – It doesn't matter, because we didn't fail to slay her, and if she's really back, which I doubt, it'll be just as easy to do it again. But after that nasty trick you pulled on us, maybe she's not the only one around here in need of slaying.

•    (Explore) Oh, you bastard! You're in for it now. I'm wise to your tricks! The Narrator – My tricks? What on earth are you talking about? We've just met for the first time.

…

•    (Explore) You trapped me here after I slew her last time. I'm not going to play along this time. The Narrator – How unfortunate that the sole person capable of slaying the Princess also seems to be somewhat insane. Oh, well. So long as you get the job done, it doesn't matter what sort of mental state you're in.

- —⌔— -

“She Won’t Be A Problem.” [Don’t take the blade.]

(Voice of the Cold’s redemptive potential.)

"She won't be a problem." – Voice of the Cold (Chapter II , The Spectre)

Voice of the Cold – This is boring. He's clearly not interested in talking, so let's just do as He says and maybe He'll stop bothering us.

Voice of the Cold, just as the Decider did in Chapter I, does not act out of malice or sadism. Instead, he acts out of apathy, agitation, and disregard. Most players did not [Slay the Princess] because they felt a particular way about her; the decision to do so was cold, calculated, and made without her in mind at all. 

In this way, Cold isn’t inherently evil. He is an amoral character, existing outside the traditional spectrum of labels like “good” or “evil.” His actions may cause harm to others, but they are not performed in the interest of the harm they will commit; Cold is only interested in interesting things. Morality like what Voice of the Hero invests himself in is simply not one of those things, in either direction that can be taken.

Voice of the Cold is an amoral character who was presented an immoral option first, and did not have the internal conflict or care necessary for him to reject it on principle.

Still, pragmatically, Voice of the Cold has no real reason to continue on his violent path, beyond the fact that he is used to it and complicit in his static characterization.

Note that, in the woods of Chapter II, Cold doesn’t express regret or remorse for anything that happened. He doesn't feel guilty about [Slaying the Princess], and he's outright convinced the Long Quiet is capable of doing it again. Note twice, though, that Cold doesn't think they need to. He's fully convinced that her death sticks, even if theirs didn't.

Voice of the Hero – It feels like no one's been here for a long, long time. Voice of the Cold – Like I've been saying. She's dead. We killed her already.

…

The Narrator – The room below is silent. Voice of the Cold – Nobody's here. Naturally.

He isn't readying up, either. It's just a job to him. (Something he was asked to do. A task, some dirty work. He holds no real opinion on the act of [Slaying the Princess]; not here, and not now.) A job that, as he's seen, has no good rewards. In fact, the end result of completing this task is not something he wants at all. But he also really, really, really wants the Narrator to shut up, and trying to talk to Him is counter-productive on that front. And “there’s more for us to do,” isn’t there?

Cold has no reason to think of taking the blade. He doesn't comment on it. (Which is unlike any other Chapter II, in which you’ll typically get extra dialogue for entering the basement unarmed.) And, really, if they’re "just going down to find her body," the Long Quiet has no real reason to grab a weapon, unless they’re planning on stabbing themself later, but it's not like they weren't able to open the door last time and see the void He shoved them into. So, Cold is neutral on the blade. They could take it, or not. There’s no real difference to him either way.

Voice of the Cold – Who cares if there's a mirror? Let's just go into the basement and find her body so we can be done with this.

…

The Narrator – As you descend the final step, the form of the Princess comes into view. A skeletal body lying in a heap on the floor, its wrist still bound to the wall by a thick chain. Voice of the Hero – Okay. She's definitely dead. Voice of the Cold – It's just like I told you—

Cold doesn't care about the Mirror or proving that it exists to the Narrator. He does care about commenting on the fact that he's right, the Princess is dead. He’s getting his “I-told-you-so’s” in. This isn't just to be petty. It was his only real motivation in returning to the Cabin in the first place: to show the Narrator that they’ve finished up His busy work, so can He please go away now?

Naturally, this is when Voice of the Cold is proven wrong. This does not cause him to reflect on himself or his actions; he is still just as dismissive of the Princess, perhaps even moreso.

Voice of the Cold – Oh. Wow. How absolutely terrifying. What's a ghost supposed to do to us?

…

•    (Explore) "You're dead. Or at least mostly dead. What can you even do to hurt me?" Voice of the Cold – A boring question with an easy answer. Nothing. She's a ghost. Ghosts can't hurt us.

That’s a rhetorical question. Voice of the Cold doesn’t tend to ask genuine questions; at least, they don’t tend to be framed as such. He’d rather phrase it in structures like “I wonder,” much like he frames his own dialogue with tags like “I suppose.” The genuine questions he does ask tend to be centered on the internal thoughts and experiences of those outside themselves. 

But insofar as capabilities? That is more often rhetorical. 

He is self-assured in the Long Quiet’s permanence. “What can a ghost do to us?” he asks in Chapter II – The Spectre, and he’ll ask similar things of the Voices (Smitten, Stubborn) in Chapter III – The Grey and Chapter III – The Fury. “What could you possibly do to me?” (“I'd love to see you try.”)

Voice of the Cold – So she has a body. And she's right there. That means we could kill her again, if we wanted to. •    [Wait and see how things play out.]

Voice of the Cold is prejudiced against ghosts. Though that’s a bit of a hyperbolic misinterpretation; logically speaking, though he does frame his dialogue here as if the Princess being a ghost is the issue, that isn’t what’s causing him to act like this. Voice of the Cold fundamentally disregards the Princess as a person because she is his murder victim. 

The Decider/he killed her; he believes the Long Quiet to be superior to her, both physically and in the realm of livelihood. She was incapable of harming them back or defending herself in any way, and that was when she was alive and had a body to hit them back with. Now, insofar as Cold’s expectations of her goes, they’ve hurt her; she is even less capable than she was before. They’ve reduced her to a disembodied spirit.

The Spectre – Why are you even here? Just making sure you finished the job or what?

They are only here to see if a job has been finished. They aren’t even remotely concerned with the person floating before them.

At least, that’s what they want to believe.

That’s the running theme of The Long Quiet’s emotional repression throughout this route: the steadfast belief that the past doesn’t matter, has no real effect on them, and they don’t regret any of our actions. Voice of the Hero needs to believe they did not do anything wrong; he needs to have it affirmed that they’re “doing the right thing.” Both the Narrator and Voice of the Cold have it in their interests to snuff out the Long Quiet’s empathy; their internal conflicts have nothing to do with her, and they’ll move onto something new soon enough.

The Narrator – When a hero slays a monster, does he apologize to it? Voice of the Hero – ... No. The Narrator – So don't try to 'make things right.' She was going to end the world. You didn't do anything wrong, aside from apparently killing yourself, and that doesn't have much to do with her.

Voice of the Hero – Are we doing the right thing? Why do I feel so sad? Voice of the Cold – Don't let her get to you. It doesn't matter. Somehow, soon, this too will be over, and we'll move on to something new. I feel like you all keep forgetting that.

For the Narrator’s means, He needs them not to care about other people. And Cold does not like to reflect on their past. Whether that be because of the Happy Ending’s time dilated sensory deprivation or his aggressive mode of dissociation in general can be argued. Regardless, Cold is the type that lives in the moment, does not linger on the past, and especially does not participate in sentimentality.

As projection, Voice of the Cold does not believe in sentimentality or emotional vulnerability when it comes from other people, either. He does not believe it when the Spectre empathizes with Quiet; he appears to be proven right, when she lashes out at them afterwards. He believes Spectre cannot mean that the experience he hatched from — the Happy Ending which was not happy — was “frightening.”

•    (Explore) "After I killed you, this cabin... I want to say it teleported? It wasn't in the woods anymore, time stopped meaning anything, and I had to kill myself to escape." The Spectre – You poor thing. That must have been so frightening for you. Voice of the Hero – You know, after everything we've been through, it's nice to see someone finally sympathizing with us. This whole thing's been an ordeal, hasn't it? Voice of the Cold – She doesn't mean it. The Spectre – It serves you right. – I was pretty scared, too, when you stood there not saying a word with a knife clenched in your fist. But now you know how bad it hurts to get stabbed in the chest. – It sounds like you got exactly what you were owed.

Voice of the Cold has no regrets. He doesn’t want the Decider to have regrets, either. To express regrets. And yet, the Decider’s options in Spectre are the most volatile and emotionally unstable potentially in the entire game; the repression he attempts to enforce doesn’t appear to be working for them. It’s a mask. And if the Decider lets it slip, he calls them “pathetic” for it.

•    (Explore) "I guess I should tell you why I was sent to kill you. You were going to end the world." The Spectre – And, what? You just believed that? You killed me without giving it any thought? That's cold.

…

Voice of the Cold – She's right, though. But that's neither here nor there. What's done is done. What we do from this point forward is all that matters. Let's try not to let emotion get the better of us. •    (Explore) "I'm not cold! I'm just... dumb! I'm just a big dumb stupid idiot! Stupid stupid stupid what was I thinking just believing what I was told?" Voice of the Cold – Oh, cut it out. You don't need to be so pathetic.

…

•    (Explore) Shit. Everyone sounds disappointed in me. I should grovel even more. Voice of the Cold – No. You're not doing that. The Narrator – That's right, don't you dare grovel. Mine is the only opinion that matters and I'll never be disappointed in you. So long as you do as I say.

…

•    (Explore) "Do you want me to die? Do you want me to kill myself to satisfy some sort of sick revenge fantasy? Because I already did that and it wouldn't be hard to do it again." Voice of the Hero – Are we putting this to a vote? Because personally, I'd prefer if we didn't die again... Voice of the Cold – If that's what it comes down to, that's what it comes down to. But I don't see the point of offing ourselves just yet. The Spectre – Aw, that's sweet of you to offer, but killing yourself wouldn't help either of us. The Narrator – It would seem that everyone here is in agreement except for you. I shouldn't have to tell you that you shouldn't kill yourself. So please, try to keep your suicidal tendencies in check.

(The Decider is haunted by the Ghost of Christmas Past /j)

The Decider, in the Spectre route, has suicidal tendencies. That’s proven by how Chapter I ends. 

It’s a thematic point which is pointed to, again, in Wraith. Many plot points in the Spectre route revolve around the idea of The Long Quiet committing to suicide or self-sacrifice in some way (stabbing themself to get to TPATD, telling the Harsh Princess in TPATD to kill them and save herself in order to reach the good ending, throwing themself in the abyss in Wraith; even freeing Spectre is phrased as “sacrificing everything you thought was you to set me free” in her End of Everything poem/statement).

Voice of the Cold’s response to this is, at its core, simply “not yet.” Voice of the Cold isn’t necessarily enabling them, because he does vaguely dissuade the idea by claiming there is not “yet” a “point” to commiting suicide, though his dialogue is more akin to a passive suicidal ideation than an actual dismissal. He keeps the option on the table, much like the Decider is made to keep the option of [Slaying the Princess] on the table when Cold says “we could kill her again, if we wanted to.” If they wanted to, they could off themselves, too. They’re just “waiting and seeing how this plays out.” Cold is invested, for the time being, in the interest living provides. Both violent extremes are just more options to him.

Voice of the Cold – That would be dull, anyway. It's always more interesting if we make a choice.

Voice of the Cold – She's not in a position to bargain with us. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Voice of the Hero – We don't have to do anything, but maybe we should. We did kill her. Wouldn't it be the moral thing to help her now that we have another chance?

Cold likes making decisions, doing things, having new experiences... But he's also hardwired for violence. The first things the Long Quiet learns of the world are paths in woods and basements in cabins and about a Princess and the end of the world. The first action they ever learn exists is that of [Slaying], specifically [Slaying the Princess].

It is an inherent knowledge at the core of Cold's very being. They, and by extension him, Can Kill. So, when prompted for his thoughts on this situation, his first inclination is violence. Naturally.

•    (Explore) Okay team, I'm out of ideas. Thoughts? Voice of the Cold – We could always try violence. It's worked for us so far. Voice of the Hero – She's a ghost.  Voice of the Cold – Who says ghosts are immune to violence? Voice of the Hero – ... common sense? Voice of the Cold – There's nothing common or sensible about common sense. Action and observation are the only things that matter.

But just because violence is his first inclination doesn't mean he's tunnel-visioned into it. He can be persuaded to try out different avenues of action.

Voice of the Hero – Fine. Then let me 'observe' that the 'acts' of killing her and killing ourself haven't got us much of anywhere. We're still back in this cabin, and we're still dealing with her, only now she has a good reason to hate us. Voice of the Cold – I suppose you have a point. Do you have any ideas, then? Voice of the Hero – I don't know... maybe we do what she wants. Maybe we let her possess us and walk out of here. Voice of the Cold – We could... It would be something different. I like different.

Hero appeals to Cold's (mask of) pragmaticism, and it works.

Cold is not convinced by “it would be the moral thing to help her.” He doesn't do morals. But he does ‘do’ “violence hasn't gotten us anywhere [besides the Good Ending, and that was terrible]. This is a new option for us; we’ve killed her, now we have a chance to help her.” He has no real drive towards violence; it's just the only language he knows to speak. And if offered something else, he’s interested.

Voice of the Cold – But those are the only options, aren't they? Violence, or doing what she wants. Or just leaving her down here. Though ignoring a problem is rarely a solution, isn't it?

And just like violence is his first language, here, the thought of cooperation is likewise something Cold has yet to learn. After all, they didn’t get to interact with the Princess much at all in Chapter I. Maybe a few exchanged words in Chapter I before they stabbed her to death (though PATD seems to prefer the version of Quiet which remained silent through it all), but not a conversation, and certainly not them doing anything she wanted them to do.

The last time they did something someone else told them to do, they weren’t repaid for the effort. Cooperation and compliance aren’t things Cold is primed to see in positive light. They aren’t decisions which are uniquely theirs (unlike, say, walking away from the cabin entirely — in self-isolation). What do others have to offer him?

Voice of the Hero – Would she be able to see... us if we went along with it? Voice of the Cold – Now isn't that an interesting thought. We could finally bring her face-to-face with Him. I wonder what she would have to say to the one who wants her dead so, so badly...

Note that Cold uses "interesting" as a compliment. Intrigue is an important emotion for him. (It's the opposite of boredom.) It's also clear indication that Cold does feel things, he just chooses, consciously or not, to ignore those feelings most of the time.

Cold is only curious on the thoughts and actions of the Spectre they have not previously attacked and thus made an enemy of. A Soft Spectre has not reflected back, to Cold, his own capacity for violence; he is interested, then, if she might be driven to that point. He is interested in the changes a person might undergo, when put into different contexts, and in different relationships. The intrigue is what a person offers, to him: experiences he has not had before, and the implicit curiosity in unraveling the mystery of a mind beyond his own.

The Narrator – I can't believe you're even entertaining her right now. I mean, just look at her, do you think she has good intentions for her 'murderer's body'? Of course she doesn't!

…

Voice of the Cold – It could be the best way to trap her for good. Doesn't seem like it would be very easy to end the world from inside someone else's body.

Cold is doing some suggestion here. He's already, immediately, in favor of possession. He's just making it sound more appealing to … well, the Decider, it must be. He doesn't care much for the Narrator's opinion. (But he'll never force the Decider to do anything. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”)

The Spectre – But... it'll be easier for both of us if you just let me in. And doesn't it sound nice? Voice of the Hero – Maybe for her, but it's crowded enough in here as-is. The Spectre – You won't have to feel guilty anymore. If you even do feel guilt.

…

Voice of the Cold – What's another voice rattling around in here? We'll be fine. Voice of the Hero – It's pretty crowded already, wouldn't you say? And she's not exactly friendly. Voice of the Cold – Neither is He. The Narrator – I'm being perfectly respectful considering the stakes of the situation! Don't push my good will.

Cold seems to think the Narrator counts as one of the Long Quiet, at least as a roommate. A voice in the head. He hasn't observed otherwise, beyond the pathos of the Narrator bossing them around, and Cold isn't moved much by pathos like that. (Of course: Cold DOES want to slay Him very, very badly. We know when Cold is acting out of malice or ill intent instead of boredom. He telegraphs his intentions and motivations of his actions fairly clearly most of the time. You will know beyond any shadow of a doubt when Cold’s sadistic nature is at play; he does not hide it, and it is typically borne of hatred, which is typically borne of a repressed hurt.)

Voice of the Cold, at minimum, tolerates Voice of the Hero. He also doesn't consider their headspace too crowded. In fact, Cold seems to actively enjoy other entities’ presence under normal circumstances. He wants Spectre to join the headspace. Nothing is more intriguing to him than other people, especially people who he can’t predict.

The Spectre – Look, I don't want to be stuck with you any more than you want to be stuck with me. You're my murderer. All I see when I look into your eyes is the thing that ran at me with the point of a blade aimed for my heart. – So... you're not exactly my first choice. But you're also my only choice. Voice of the Cold – It sounds to me like she'd be a lovely roommate.

Voice of the Cold entertains himself with asides and tangents often enough that it might be considered a character trait of his. He’s a little philosophy student. And the philosophy we can read from him reflects the character it’s coming from; a character who, himself, is simply mirroring the other characters around him.

•    (Explore) "I killed you! What are you doing not being dead?" The Spectre – I don't feel very dead. But I guess I'm not... not-dead. So you must have only mostly killed me. – Or maybe death is only mostly-real, but it's also mostly not-real. I'm not sure. I'm just the one these things have happened to, not the one with all the answers. Or any of the answers.

…

Voice of the Cold – Death—at least as a form of permanence—is just a concept, and clearly it's not a very useful one anymore. Maybe we should throw it out entirely. •    (Explore) "Your body's right there, though. Your dead body." The Narrator – The Princess glances back at the bones lying on the floor. The Spectre – It's just a body. Do you believe these bones, or do you believe me? Because those bones aren't talking to you. Voice of the Cold – She's seeing things pragmatically. We should do the same. Reality is what's in front of us, not our preconceptions of what it should be. There doesn't need to be a static 'truth.' There doesn't need to be objectivity.

•    (Explore) "Well? Were you going to end the world? Would you end it, if you could?" The Spectre – Well, killer, what does it mean for something to end anyway? You 'ended' me, but I'm still right here in front of you, aren't I? – You apparently 'ended' too, yet here you are. And you don't even look any different. – After seeing what you've seen, how can you be sure anything ends? Voice of the Cold – I see her point. Everything here is so... impermanent, always shifting. The end of one thing just leads to the start of another.

Voice of the Cold – Is anything 'dangerous' if we can never really die? The Narrator – Look. You and the Princess clearly have a history, and that history clearly involves death. But aside from some horrifying implications, I don't care what's already happened between the two of you. – And you don't know that you can never really die. Maybe you could only come back once! And even then, there are fates that come close to death in their terror. Voice of the Cold – What a strange thing to say. Isn't the turn of phrase, 'fates worse than death?' The Narrator – There are no fates worse than the finality of death. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool.

Voice of the Hero – Wait. If she has a home to go back to, doesn't that mean that her leaving won't end the world? Voice of the Cold – It doesn't mean that at all. It could mean that wherever her home is, it's outside of the world. Voice of the Hero – Yeah, but it has to be somewhere, doesn't it? And if it's somewhere, then it's part of the world. Voice of the Cold – I suppose it's all a matter of perspective — where does the world end and something else begin? Does the destruction of one open a door to another, or is it the same world, reborn?

Voice of the Cold – Who cares what we are? We exist. That's all that matters.

Voice of the Hero – But what about us? Are we just stuck here in... nowhere forever? Did taking her out of the cabin really end the world? Voice of the Cold – We're still here. Voice of the Hero – Yeah, but, that thing you said earlier... are we not part of the world anymore? Are we in some world that exists after the world ends, or on top of the other world but not in it, or...? Have we never been part of the world?

Action and observation, actively committing to interacting with the world or otherwise passively observing it (to be a Decider or to be a Voice), are the only things that matter. Reality, to Cold, is only what he observes it to be in the moment; he believes himself to be above preconception and bias. (As observed of how he views Spectre based on his preconceptions of her as his powerless murder victim, despite evidence to the contrary, he is more than fallible on this subject. Hero runs on the "common sense" that "Ghosts Are Immune To Violence," and Cold runs on the "common sense" that "Dead Things Can't Hurt Us." He has no real observations to back this belief up, beyond his unflinching confidence in the Long Quiet and resolve to do as he pleases without meaningful consequence, which are preconceptions. Cold, on a subconscious level, has the same mortal flaws as any other Voice.)

Cold is very focused on existence, being real, existing in the moment; his core philosophical understanding of his existence is simply a matter of being present and awake and aware of the things around him and the impacts he may or may not have on them. There's no need to question who or what you are; you are, and that's what's most important to him. To exist. To be somewhere. To do something. He takes whatever is presented in front of him, works to accept it, and then internalizes what he's learned.

Chapter III – The Princess and The Dragon

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Cold – For how much you hate her, you aren't doing a whole lot to stop us from leaving this place. The Spectre – It's because He can't stop me. Why do you think He sent you here? The Narrator – I hate to admit it, but she's not wrong. – It's just the weight of it all... it's too much for me to do anything other than describe and dictate. Voice of the Cold – And whine. [Note: Cold remains unimpressed with sentimental displays of weakness, especially from the Narrator.] The Narrator – This body wasn't made to hold you and the Princess. If you want to renege on your cataclysmically terrible decision a minute ago, well, you're the only one who can make that happen. •    (Explore) [Take the blade.] The Narrator – You reach forward and mindlessly take the blade from the table. What do you plan to do with it? •    [Slay the Princess.] Voice of the Cold – Isn't that an interesting idea.

The Narrator asserts this action to be “mindless,” and Cold treats the decision itself as an idle curiosity. A new “idea,” sprung up from a series of going through the motions without any emotion to follow. 

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Narrator – I... hadn't even considered it as an option. Slaying her would slay you. Are you sure you're willing to do that? Voice of the Hero – Of course we're sure. The decision has already been made. The Narrator – All right, then. Better this than ferrying her out of here. The Spectre – Wh-what do you think you're doing?! Voice of the Cold – Hear that? She's scared. No point in wasting more time. Do it.

The line “hear that? She’s scared” and its delivery by Jonathan Sims may be interpreted as sadistic on Cold’s part. I don’t think it necessarily is; we see more of how Cold behaves, sadistically, in Chapter III – The Wraith. This doesn’t seem to be the same. 

What I do think it is... is efficient. Pragmatic. If the Princess is scared by that decision — the decision to [Slay the Princess] — then that must mean she thinks she can be slain in this state. Her fear of death betrays her mortality. (Conversely, Cold’s lack of fear, to him, then must betray his immortality.) The puzzle is solved. They’ve finished observation; now it's time for action.

Is Cold amused by this? Well, sure. But he's not amused because she's scared. He's amused because of something beyond that entirely. If nothing else, in both timelines, Cold's amused by the fact that this ghost was so arrogant as to threaten them and behave as if she had so much power and control... and they now get to show her that she has none. That they are in control.

Note that Voice of the Cold was the one to suggest his own idea of “trapping her [the Spectre] for good” within The Long Quiet’s body. When slaying her, their body is described as a “prison of flesh” akin to “the basement’s prison of stone.” And, when Cold taunts her as she dies, her harsh variant cries to him that she’s leaving, and her gentle variant cries for him to “get away” from her. As if he were approaching, pursuing, or holding her down.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Narrator – The Princess, her spirit bound to your prison of flesh as she had once been bound to the basement's prison of stone, cries out in agony as you slice through organ and muscle.

…

The Narrator – Your skin roils and bucks as she violently pushes against it from the inside. Bits of her seep through, white and glowing with ethereal light, but still the walls of your prison hold.

…

The Spectre – If only I could drag you with me and make you understand. But that's not the way things get to go for me, is it? Voice of the Cold – It would certainly be interesting. Though being dead does sound dull. And you are about to be dead. Again. The Spectre – I said I'm leaving, you cold little freak!

The Spectre – I don't want to die in you! I thought you finally understood me but instead you just wanted to hurt me again.

Ultimately, “understanding her” and “wanting to hurt her again” aren’t actually mutually exclusive options. In a character with empathy, this is typically something of the case. In a character like Cold, it’s not. 

You see more sides of a person the more experiences that are inflicted onto them. To hurt someone, then, is just to understand them in a new context, for better or for worse.

The Princess – Maybe... trying to slay me was for the best, if it means you could leave those other voices behind. The two mean ones, at least. I feel kind of bad for the nice one. •    (Explore) If we're both here, then what happened to the others? The Princess – I don't know! I hope they're okay. Uh... some of them, at least. I didn't like the one that kept bossing you around. And that quiet one kind of gave me the creeps. – I liked that last one, though. He was nice. I hope he's okay.

Spectre’s opinion is that both the Narrator (the “bossy, murder-happy know-it-all”) and Voice of the Cold (“the quiet one,” the “cold little freak”) are mean voices the Decider was better off discarding. Cold “gives her the creeps.” She did like Voice of the Hero, though, and her gentle variant is capable of admitting that.

Beyond them, specifically, the Princess also has a good number of opinions on the Long Quiet as a whole. Opinions formed from actions and behaviors influenced by, or which influenced, Voice of the Cold.

The Princess – Oh. You're here, too. Well, we all have to face consequences for our actions, unintended or not. Sometimes we even face consequences for doing nothing at all. – Like me, when you came downstairs and stabbed me in the heart. What had I done to deserve that? Then you went and stabbed yourself in the heart just to spite me... I should have seen that one coming, really. But hey. Now we're here. Stuck together. – That's consequences for you.

…

The Princess – Does being called a dragon make you happy? You're... kind of scary looking. Like, really scary looking. •    I... don't actually know what I look like. Is that... accurate? The Princess – I think so? You're... kind of scary looking. Like, really scary looking.

…

•    So... what do I look like? The Princess – Scary. It's... hard to describe. It's hard to look at you.

…

TRUTH – Movement on the stairs. The Princess – You're always so loud on the way down.

…

•    (Explore) What the hell am I? The Princess – You're... you? You've always looked like this. You're scary, sometimes, but looks only matter so much.

…

•    I hate this silence. It's putting me on edge. The Princess – Oh, is it? Because you do this quiet staring act a lot. Can't say I'm a fan.

The Long Quiet is “scary,” silent, and often does a “quiet staring act.” This implies that the most consistent characterization for the Decider in a route towards Chapter III – The Princess and the Dragon would be to speak to the Princess as infrequently as possible. Voice of the Cold, after all, is described as “the quiet one” by Spectre. (Though there is a certain hilarity in choosing the options “hey, I think I’m here to kill you?” and “Yeah, it wasn’t a joke” before following through.)

- —⌔— -

Cold responds differently depending on if he knows his Decider is present with the Princess.

The Princess – But maybe we should let them know you're here with me. Maybe it'll help. – "I'm not alone here this time. Part of you stayed with me when we split apart." – "You don't want to hurt that part of you, do you?"

…

The Princess – "I... can't hear what's going on in there anymore now that I'm back in my own body. Do you want to... share your thoughts? It'd only be polite, really."

…

TRUTH – Silence, as the mind in front you falls back into itself.

…

•    I think you'll have to make them listen. Try being assertive. The Princess – But I don't want to be assertive! – ... Sigh. Fine. – "Um... excuse me?" The Cold – My apologies. They're really being quite dull in here. TRUTH – More silence. The Cold – I think they want to kill you. At least the new one does. He's very, very passionate about it. The Princess – "Can you... tell him not to?" The Opportunist – Your opinion has been duly noted, annnnnnnnd disregarded. In fact, I think a decision's been made. Two birds with one stone. How tempting.

If the Decider’s presence is known, Voice of the Cold is more courteous to the Princess. He lets them (her and the Decider) in on Voice of the Opportunist’s sidebar, even if Opportunist telegraphs his intentions rather well even without Cold’s brilliant insight on the matter.

Voice of the Cold appears to be polite. He “shares his thoughts” with The Princess and The Dragon, who can’t hear them, and even apologizes to them for making them wait while he and the others are deciding on something to do. His commentary on Opportunist, calling him “very, very passionate” seems to be teasing; at least, it would make sense to read it as teasing, from the Voice who seems to consider strong sentimentality a character flaw.

If Voice of the Cold does not know the Decider’s whereabouts, he has something interesting to say. Something he isn’t prompted to elaborate on in the slightest, but something he openly chooses to express regardless.

The Princess – I guess we'll just have to talk to them. – "So here we are again. I'm back in chains, and you have your knife. So. What are we going to do?" – "I guess we could just... stare... at each other."

…

The Princess – "I... can't hear what's going on in there anymore now that I'm back in my own body. Do you want to... share your thoughts? It'd only be polite, really."

…

TRUTH – Silence, as the figure continues to stare with a wild grin, but does not act. The Cold – How dull. We've already had our discussions in private. I'd rather not keep listening to the rest of you run in circles repeating the same arguments again and again and again. It was so much more interesting when we had someone to mediate. The Opportunist – I'm sorry, did you just share privileged information with the enemy? The Hero – Well, it isn't privileged anymore now, is it? Do we really need all this secrecy? The Cold – We don't. The Opportunist – Uh, yes we do? Sidebar, everyone. Now. Chop chop!

Voice of the Cold misses the Decider.

He refers to them and their role as “someone to mediate” as “interesting.” Without them present, the endless bickering between Hero and Opportunist reads as “dull” to him; their circular arguments, even more so. He doesn’t take the same amusement in Opportunist’s misplaced passion he seems to take and share with them when he knows they’re here.

Even more interesting: Voice of the Cold completely disregards the Princess.

He doesn’t care about being polite. He doesn’t care to share the others’ thoughts with the Princess; he does not warn her that Opportunist is interested in slaying her. In fact, the Princess has to demand his attention five separate times for him to respond at all.

TRUTH – Silence, as the mind in front you falls back into itself. The Princess – "Um..." TRUTH – There is no response. The Princess – "Um, excuse me?" TRUTH – Nothing. The Princess – They're not listening to me. •    I think you'll have to make them listen. Try being assertive. The Princess – You're right. No more Nice Princess for them. I'm going to speak my mind. – "Uh... hello?" TRUTH – Silence. The Princess – "I'm trying to say something." TRUTH – Silence again. The Princess – "HEY I SAID I'M TALKING NOW WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME?!" The Cold – So you are. And very loudly. Do you have something to say? The Princess – Oops. I mean, yeah! I already know about all that 'privileged information.' Because he's in here. With me. The Cold – Oh? How very interesting. The Hero – Yeah. That changes things, doesn't it? – ... Doesn't it? The Opportunist – Oh, it changes things alright. We get to take out two birds with one stone. The Princess – "Wait... what?"

It’s only when the Decider’s presence is announced that he shows any interest in her. And he refers to their reveal as “very” interesting, quite the noticeable modifier in his dialogue.

Voice of the Cold did not care for the Princess in Chapter I, II, or III; she is his murder victim, and remains so even now. The only aspect of her he really pays attention to is the piece of him she took. He’s more interested in the Decider, the element of their shared system whose choices he lives vicariously through. He prefers the Decider.

Voice of the Cold – You are such a disappointment. Voice of the Opportunist – I'd like to see you do better.

Voice of the Opportunist – It's certainly decisive, I just love that about this guy. Much better than the choices I would make. Voice of the Cold – Oh. Wow. You actually managed to say something I agreed with.

Voice of the Opportunist is a disappointment who hesitates and stalls in his decision-making process and can’t follow through half the time even when he “finally decides to do something.” In contrast, the Decider makes “better” choices and is inherently more “decisive” than Opportunist. That’s what Cold likes about them, and it’s what he’s longing for through all of Chapter III. 

Mind that, when Voice of the Cold declares the Decider’s revealed presence “how very interesting,” Voice of the Hero chimes in to agree and say it “changes things.” Even when Opportunist takes charge and begins the attack, he’s held back by the both of them at that point. Opportunist only has a “plurality” on account of the Narrator, explicitly not a “majority.” Now, it can be argued whether Cold voted with Hero to prevent the attack (would imply a tie) or abstained from the vote (would more align with the distinction “plurality, not majority”). (Voice of the Hero appears to consider himself and Cold aligned.)

The Hero – Uh. Before anything happens, I just wanted to let you all know that we are not all on board with this. The Opportunist – Now, now. We voted. The Hero – It was not a majority decision. The Opportunist – But we did have a plurality! The Hero – He shouldn't count. The Opportunist – Says who? The Hero – Says me. He's not one of us! The Opportunist – He's been here since the beginning! The old chum really deserves a say. Besides, you'll all thank us when this is finally over, and we are officially on top. But enough chatter.

Since it appears Cold is tired of Hero and Opportunist’s disagreement resulting in no action at all, he would rather a decision be made than no decision; but he still does not explicitly agree with Opportunist. His theoretical abstinence from the vote is as much a signifier of disinterest as it is a marker of opinion. Maybe he doesn’t care about what happens so long as something is happening... but he also doesn’t care to slay the Princess or the Dragon, in either direction.

The Cold – Oh, so you've finally decided to do something, have you? TRUTH – Silence, for just a moment, as cold eyes regard you. – And then silence still as soft eyes hesitate.

Both Cold and Hero (in that order) hesitate before TPATD gets stabbed, and Opportunist misses. The difference between "regard you" and "hesitate" implies Hero is actively fighting the urge whereas Cold is somehow observing TPATD. (It’s also noteworthy for the word association of “hesitation” in regards to Voice of the Cold. The Narrator claims our murder of the Princess happened without a moment of hesitation, and the Memory Tab/Gallery refers to Spectre as “the remains of violence free from hesitation.” The fact that Cold is enabling a moment of hesitation at all is a massive development in his character. Hesitation prompts consideration. He is thinking. About...?) He's inarguably acting against Oppy by overriding his control, but what is Cold observing? 

To be speculative, perhaps wishfully so: maybe the best place to redirect the blade's trajectory, when Hero inevitably fails?

Opportunist isn't inept. If given the chance, he will stab TPATD in the heart, and he will NOT miss. 

"Sorry, girlie, but we're seeing this through!" – Voice of the Opportunist (Chapter III, The Princess and The Dragon) "The monster in front of you pulls the blade back and drives it into your heart."

"I'm sorry..." – Voice of the Broken (Chapter II , The Tower) "As you take another step forward, the blade digs into your ribs, slicing through flesh with ease."

Why Opportunist was able to stab TPATD the second time is the same reason Broken can stab the Long Quiet the first time in Chapter II – The Tower: because Hero is caught off-guard.

Even when Hero is actively resisting Broken (plus Tower, which in Dragon's case would be replaced by the Narrator), he's only somewhat capable of saving them. Outside of wishful speculation, that Hero and Cold could simply pause the assault for that brief narration is noteworthy.

Given: this evidence is circumstantial. What we objectively know is as follows: we know that Cold “regards” TPATD after Hero “hesitates,” we know Opportunist misses his first attack when he reasonably shouldn’t have, and we have an idea of what inter-Voice decisive conflicts manifest as in bodily movements because of Tower. But we have no way of knowing, precisely, what’s going on in the Voices’ head through that exchange; all we have to work with is silence, some looks, and a stabbing.

We see in this route that Voice of the Cold’s mode of influence on the Long Quiet is rather subtle. He doesn’t ever reach the point where he actively forces a decision onto them; he never, in any appearance of his, actively takes control of the body against the Decider’s wishes. It seems antithetical to his character as it has been built up so far to do so. However, just because he’s never explicitly influenced the Decider doesn’t mean he can’t, or even that he doesn’t.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Narrator – You lift your shaking hand and rest it on the door handle, but you pause before you open it, exhaustion sapping what's left of your will. Voice of the Cold – Was exhaustion really the best you could muster up? It's over. There's no use stalling. Let's see what happens next. •    [Open the door.] The Narrator – Shit. But exhaustion wasn't enough, was it? The handle clicks as you twist it, and then the door groans open.

Voice of the Cold is much less flashy than other Voices’ attempts to rebuff the Narrator’s control (see Paranoid’s “Do you think you can just wrest control away from us?” in Chapter II – The Nightmare, or Skeptic and Smitten’s suicide gambits in their Chapter IIs), but he is still the one responsible for doing so when they go along the route to save the Spectre. His mode of influence is to prompt a line of events that was already occurring to continue on; to ignore things we otherwise might have caught, be it the limits of the flesh, their own emotions, or perhaps even greater than that. It’s subtle. He doesn’t even really acknowledge the Narrator is attempting to assert authority. His phrasing is intentional so as to make the Narrator so pathetic we don’t even recognize what it is He just tried to do. 

Cold is so nonchalant to the concept of death that he doesn’t even panic as what is essentially an attempt on their life is made. He just brushes Him aside, simple as that.

You’ll also note that, when Cold speaks, the Decider is prompted to make a “decision” that is really just a forced “choice” of one option. Innocuous in Spectre, since most routes of freeing a Princess do often end in choices like this regarding the last push for the door (which is used as the basis for a joke in Free Will Cage), but it also happens similarly in instances like Quantum Beak or the Moment of Clarity.

[Chapter III – The Fury]

Voice of the Hero – If we're nothing, then how can we do anything? Voice of the Cold – The same way we always have. Being nothing has never stopped us. Now end this. End her. •    [End this.]

[The Moment of Clarity]

Voice of the Cold – Just do something. It doesn't matter what. •    [Proceed.]

This, combined with Cold’s initial influence of the Decider, offering that they “could” slay Spectre a second time and them being prompted either to accept the offer or, not reject, but wait on that intrusive thought, implies that Cold is going to be a lot more insidious in his influence than other Voices would be. He is passive, but passivity is not an absence of presence.

I digress. Beyond what we can observe of him in the Long Quiet’s past with him, and his other iterations, and even how he behaves now, perhaps what would be most telling to see where Cold’s allegiances lie in Chapter III is what the Decider can catch when they’re brought back.

The Narrator – She turns her back on you and hurls the blade through the basement window, never to be seen again. No no no no no! You need the blade to deal with her! Voice of the Cold – Then I guess we won't be doing your dirty work. Voice of the Hero – Yeah!

Neither Voice of the Hero nor Voice of the Cold are interested in slaying us. The Princess’s victory, in this moment, is their victory as well.

Still, even if Voice of the Cold presumably gets everything he cares about when the Decider is pulled back to him across the threshold...

•    [Turn around and leave.] The Princess – That must be you in that body again, but... you're just turning around and leaving? What about me? What am I supposed to do here? Voice of the Hero – She sounds so sad. •    [Say nothing.] The Narrator – This is not a resolution. Voice of the Hero – I don't know. It kind of feels like it is. Voice of the Opportunist – Yeah. We got our decider back. And we didn't die. I feel on top of the world right now. The Princess – You're not even going to answer me. What did I ever do to deserve you? Voice of the Cold – Nothing. The Princess – It's so cold and empty here.

...He’s not wholly satisfied. Not with just that; not with walking away from it all, after everything.

“This is what you deserve.” “What did I ever do to deserve you?” “Nothing.”

Turning around and leaving, ignoring the cabin and the Princess within, no longer intrigues Cold as it did back in Chapter II.

In Chapter III, Voice of the Cold comes to the conclusion “violence gets us nowhere” on his own, with or without Voice of the Hero’s direct involvement; he comes, implicitly, to an understanding of the Princess at least enough to genuinely begin to consider her for who she is beyond what we are capable of doing to her. He was forced, for a brief moment without them, to think and act on his own with no Decider to watch and hide behind.

And the situation he was put in was a direct mirror of Chapter I’s events. Causing him to reflect.

If Opportunist succeeded here, not only would the Decider potentially have been lost, but the Narrator would have had another opportunity to lock them away in a timeless void again. And Cold doesn't care for that. Opportunist would make the same mistake they did, over and over again. Cold has no interest in circles. He prefers something new; something different.

Voice of the Hero – Welcome back, by the way. Voice of the Cold – Yes. We all missed you so very much. Voice of the Opportunist – I missed you the most. Voice of the Hero – You weren't even here until he was gone.

It’s only with the Princess, on the stairs, together with everyone, that this exchange with the Voices occurs. Where the Decider is told, explicitly, that they were missed, and they are welcomed.

•    "We do it right this time. We leave together. Hand in hand." The Narrator – Absolutely not! Voice of the Cold – I don't think there's much you can do about it if that's the choice he makes. The Narrator –  But— Voice of the Cold – No. I think I'd like to see what happens.

…

•    [Give her the blade.] The Narrator – Sigh. Fine. Whatever. You stoop to the floor and pick up the pristine blade, only rather than using it for its intended purpose, you... Voice of the Cold – Go on. The Narrator – You hand it to the Princess, who gingerly cuts herself free from her bindings. You maniac.

Cold rushes through [Saving the Princess]. He'll have no defiance of this decision. No one will make the Decider do anything they don't want to do. Their choices will be respected. There will be no interruptions. And Cold would like to see what happens next. 

Cold didn't like slaying the Princess a second time. He didn't like offering her freedom, then shutting the door on her. He did not like the emptiness of the cabin when she was slain, just as he didn’t like the empty space left behind when the Decider left their body behind. He wouldn’t have liked the empty, unresolved tension of leaving her behind the same way.

So, Voice of the Cold comes to the simple, elegant conclusion that he is done with violence. Not because it is immoral, or that he empathizes with the people he's hurt (though it is arguable whether or not he shows some signs of a developing sense of empathy in this Chapter), but simply because it isn't rational. It does not lead to favorable outcomes. It is predictable, and it is boring. 

This development of his isn’t empathetic; Cold remains self-interested and self-reliant. His personality isn’t grounded in lofty ideals of heroism or morality; it is a logical conclusion, to come from his own personal experience.

- —⌔— -

“It’s Worked For Us So Far.” [Take the blade.]

Voice of the Cold’s corruptive potential

"That's fine. It wasn't very hard to kill her last time. We'll just do it again." – Voice of the Cold (Chapter II, The Spectre)

Just because Voice of the Cold has the capacity to be redeemed does not mean he is inclined to walk the path of that journey. It is only through the combined effort of the Decider’s restraint in [waiting and seeing how things play out] and Voice of the Hero’s insistence on “helping the Princess now that they have the chance” that Cold considers nonviolence a worthwhile option. Through patience and education. And it is only through dramatic circumstances that Voice of the Cold may begin to reflect enough to show genuine signs of change, beyond absentminded curiosities.

Cold is about efficiency, not cruelty. Violence is the path that works for him; it gets him through the task the fastest. It’s all he knows. It's the only language he speaks. It's up to the Decider's patience and Hero's rhetoric to teach him a new one; he's immediately receptive to new ideas, if he can see them.

If he is not shown it... his mere presence tends to make everyone around him worse.

TRUTH – You look at your hands, tattered and stained in memories. Voice of the Hero – […] Why were we fighting each other? The Princess – You started it. Voice of the Cold – We needed something to do.

Voice of the Hero doesn’t know why the Long Quiet ever killed the Princess in the first place, because he never supported the choice, and his empathy for her was too muted for him to truly grasp why she opted to defend herself from them later. The Princess only engages in a cycle of violence with Quiet because they attacked first; it was either that she laid down and died quietly, or she fought for her life — or at least what remained of it. 

Only Voice of the Cold has an answer to that question. And it’s just that it was something to do. They did it because they could.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Cold – We could always try violence. It's worked for us so far.

It was something to do; the only “something to do” they were offered from the beginning. It was what the narrative told them they had to do, and they never really questioned that fact. And after they started, they never thought to stop. It’s been working, hasn’t it?

So why wouldn’t it work now?

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

•    [Slay the Princess.] The Narrator – Without a moment's hesitation, you lash out with your blade. – It's like you're slashing at air. No matter how many times you stab at her, no matter how many angles you strike from, all you manage to do is interrupt her form, the skin of your hand prickling with cold as it passes through, unable to find anything solid. Voice of the Cold – Hm.

...

•    (Explore) Okay team, I'm out of ideas. Thoughts? Voice of the Cold – She might be making it hard for us to kill her body, but those bones look very, very real. Maybe breaking them breaks her. Voice of the Hero – Or maybe burying them would put her to rest. The Narrator – Don't take any piece of her outside of this cabin. Sigh. Maybe you should stop looking for loopholes and try harder to actually slay her. Voice of the Hero – But we are trying!

Acting in violence doesn't only tunnel-vision Cold, it affects Hero's capacity for empathy, too. Hero doesn't think to ask the Princess what she wants once Quiet has tried to grab/stab her at Cold’s provocation. He cannot convince Cold to seek other options. 

And Spectre isn’t interested in empathizing with her murderer, either. Especially not when she can’t see any capacity for change within him.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – Even after what I've said, you still gave it your all. Such a disappointing choice. I don't think I like the person behind those eyes.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – Of all the people you could have been, why did you have to be you?

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – All I ever wanted was to leave this place. All I ever wanted was to find a way back home. – Wherever home is. The Narrator – Her eyes turn from wells of sorrow to pits of wrath as she stares into you. The Spectre – But I guess violence is the only language you speak.

Of course it is. It’s the only language they were taught.

And now they’re teaching it to you.

"I never wanted to have to hurt anybody. It's not who I wanted to be. / But I guess you've turned me into something worse." – The Spectre (Chapter II)

Violence isn’t just Voice of the Cold’s first language; it’s common sense to him.

He doesn’t set himself up for the task with any anticipation. Violence and its outcomes never excite him, necessarily; not for dirty work like this, where they’re out as fast as they’re in, and where each interaction amounts to a swift demise and swifter goodbye. To Voice of the Cold, murder is “easy.” Almost effortless. Thoughtless, too. Detached. Avoidant.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Cold – That's fine. It wasn't very hard to kill her last time. We'll just do it again.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Cold – […] and if she's really back, which I doubt, it'll be just as easy to do it again. […]

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

Voice of the Cold – So she has a body. And she's right there. We could probably grab her and kill her again, if we wanted to. We don't even need a blade. She looks fragile enough to me.

It’s the Long Quiet’s first inclination, their initial thought, and comes freely without further expectation. They’ve killed before, and they can do it again. Note the slight shift from the woods to basement, with the future-tense “we will do it again” to the hypothetical “we could kill her again.”

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – I see you brought that annoying knife again. – So... are you waiting for a chance to use it, or are you here for something else?

Voice of the Cold – Yes, maybe this whole thing was a trick to get us to end the world. And now we get to go through the whole charade again wholly aware of what's waiting for us at the end. – But that's assuming she's alive in that cabin. We did kill her, after all.

They can just repeat this same old song and dance, “wholly aware of what’s waiting for us at the end.” Or they might be here for “something else.”

Unfortunately, “something else” is just something they’re not equipped to see. And the only person who might be able to show them an alternative won’t be interested for long in leaving her outstretched hand open to the air, with them grabbing at her wrist and slashing at her neck. They’re trying to kill her, after all.

Spectre’s reaction to the circumstances Quiet presents her with is... understandably horrified.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – You're abandoning me here?!

…

The Narrator – The Princess starts to float erratically from side to side, her cold exterior melting away. The Spectre – But if you're just leaving me then... then I'm really just going to be stuck here forever. Th-there's nothing I can do, it's just going to go on and on and on and on, lonely and sad and hurting and empty.

The Spectre – You're going to try and kill me?!

…

The Spectre – But then you either kill me and I get even fuzzier or you don't and... and then I'm really just going to be stuck here forever. – Th-there's nothing I can do, it's just going to go on and on and on and on, lonely and sad and hurting and empty.

Lonely and sad and hurting and empty, forever; her one contact in this place, Quiet, not reaching out to her with any intent of companionship, but solely to hurt her, be it through neglect or abuse. Quiet is not an escape, but another cage: a prison of flesh, standing in the walls of her prison of stone. Even in spirit, she remains shackled. And her knife-wielding-murderer continues to regard her through it all. Her longing for companionship has been spurned and spited and spit on in the face of his apathy.

And Cold’s response...

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – You're... you're...

…

Voice of the Cold – It would seem so, yes. The Spectre – AFTER EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE TO ME, YOU'VE CHOSEN TO DO MORE?!

…

The Spectre – No... NNNNO. NOT THAT.

...is blunt acceptance. Callous, yes. Uncaring, probably, though more unsympathetic than purely apathetic. 

They are detached; there are no tangible consequences of their actions to their person that they can see. Spectre, in contrast, is viscerally affected by what they inflict on her. The difference between Cold & the Decider versus Spectre, here, is that Cold is static character, whereas Spectre is dynamic. 

The violent murderer choosing to continue in his path of violent murder, no matter for how long he continues in these patterns, isn’t substantially changed by the journey. Cold is not being challenged in Quiet’s choice to follow through with his most surface-level inclinations; Spectre is being challenged, and the conflict he provides to her is both external (the threat he poses to her existence) and internal (her struggling with the psychological ramifications of being victimized to the level she is).

Another component to this is Spectre’s internal conflict. She “never wanted to have to hurt anyone.” But Quiet has backed her into a corner; by their static nature, they’ve forced her to change — and to, in her own words, “become worse.”

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Spectre – Who do you think you are, trying to take me out with you?! Well I'll show you. I can do worse than that little knife. It's not you taking me out, it's me taking you out. I'll tear this body to shreds! Voice of the Cold – Wouldn't that be interesting? I'd like to see you try. But I think this is the end for all of us.

Quiet won’t have substantially changed; her retaliations are intriguing developments, but developments external to them. 

Voice of the Cold is a character type which inherently resists change to many degrees and angles. His potential redemption in either freeing Spectre or experiencing TPATD is one facilitated by multiple external forces all cooperating towards one end-goal. It requires the Narrator to be so horribly unconvincing and uncaring that Cold develops resentment towards Him and everything He desires. It requires unmistakable evidence that unprovoked violence has led The Long Quiet nowhere they want to be. It requires that the Decider be patient, Hero be convincing, and the Princess be willing to forgive regardless of if we’ve earned that or not; it requires that, even in the event that we take advantage of the Princess’s tendency to forgive (TPATD), she does not retaliate. In order to even have a chance of redeeming Cold, Spectre must have the patience of a saint.

In contrast, it is remarkably easy for Cold’s mere presence to deteriorate the virtues of the characters around him. Cold believes in the value of retaliation; he finds it regrettable when Quiet can’t defend themself, when they are made vulnerable or otherwise helpless to another’s decisions.

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

The Narrator – She forces her hand into your chest and then...

…

The Narrator – You can't be sure if you first hear or feel what happens next, but it is over before you can fully conceptualize what 'it' is. – A horrific splintering, the squelching of organs, the rending of tissue. An icy, numbing pain.

…

Voice of the Cold – She's real now. Pity we don't have a weapon. The Narrator – Your last moments are spent a helpless witness as she rips her hand from your chest, holding your still-beating heart in her clenched fist.

“A helpless witness.”

Not what Cold would prefer The Long Quiet, as a collective, to be. He, himself, as a Voice might be something of a witness, but “helpless” is far and away from any word he would use to describe the Decider. Though he only considers the possibility to attack her after she’s made her move. Ironically, this time it is the Princess who enacts violence without hesitation, and it is Quiet whose right to respond is revoked.

Voice of the Cold – She's real now. If she's making us dead, we should return the favor. •    [Slay the Princess.] The Narrator – You swing your blade towards her briefly corporeal throat. It connects. A gash widens across her neck, glowing ectoplasm leaking from the wound. – But it's too little, too late. In her hand, you realize she clutches your still-beating heart. It thumps unsettlingly. Voice of the Hero – Did... we get her? Voice of the Cold – Even if we didn't, we've given her something to remember.

Quiet didn’t hesitate; they were just so invested in seeing what she’d do to them that they forgot they could strike first. Or perhaps they just didn’t want to at all?

“We’ve given her something to remember” is a fascinatingly cruel line. Did they not already do so when they killed her? Does she not already “remember” the visage of “the thing that ran at [her] with the point of a blade aimed for [her] heart?” 

Cold seems to view violence such as this as an exchange. If it is a language, then its applications between two speakers is simply a conversation. Spectre’s violence against them is a greeting; he pities the idea of leaving her without an equal reply.

- —⌔— -

Chapter III – The Wraith

Voice of the Cold – And here we go again. Off to slay her. Again. Voice of the Cheated – The deck's stacked, isn't it? We kill her, we start again. She kills us as a goddamn ghost, we start again. I'm starting to think we're being run in circles just for the sake of it... Voice of the Hero – Come on, let's not give in to all that misery just yet. There's got to be a way out of this. There's got to be a right answer. Voice of the Cheated – And what if there isn't? Aren't you listening to me? What if all of this was rigged from the start? Voice of the Hero – That's ridiculous, there'd be no point if all this was just some kind of... cosmic busy-work.

And yet, “cosmic busy work” is all Cold seems to regard his existence in the context of Spectre as. Quiet hatches Cheated in this route by complying with Cold in some way; either by trying to, uncreatively, [Slay/Grab the Princess] twice, or by smashing the Princess’s bones as Cold suggests when they’ve already made a hostile move towards her.

Following Cold's initial impressions and advice the whole way through leads them here again, in the same endless loop as always. Feeling Cheated, vitriolic, angry at the higher power that conspires against them. All that's left is resentment for Him, for these woods, for the cabin... and practically zero hope for escape.

Paranoid and Spectre/Wraith are in similar states of panic when confronted with how trapped they are. Cold responds the same to both: empty agreement.

Voice of the Paranoid – Shit — this really doesn't end, does it? It doesn't matter if we kill her, it doesn't matter if she kills us, it just goes on and on and on and on and on. Voice of the Cold – Yes, so it does. Voice of the Hero – No, there has to be a way out of here. There just has to be. Voice of the Cold – Does there have to be a way out? For all we know, this is just how things are. Voice of the Hero – No. No, I can't accept that. What if we let her take our body? That's what she wanted last time. We can still put all of this to rest, right?

Critically, Paranoid does not hatch by following Cold's directions. He hatches when Quiet chooses to walk away and get killed for it. When the Decider chooses the one path Cold wouldn't (“it’s always more interesting when we make a choice”), and walks away (run away, flee) from the Spectre instead of doing something with her.

Quiet might not have been scared of the Spectre before. Cold is dismissive of any projected idea of fear any character has. He says Spectre doesn’t mean it when she claims the Happy Ending “must have been so frightening for you,” and he dismisses Voice of the Hero’s fears of her ghostly nature any time he speaks up too loud about it. But in Quiet’s final moments, if he outright tells the Princess as much as she holds his beating heart in her hands, she says “let’s see if you stay that way,” and makes good on that bluff. They weren’t scared of her before. But by tuning out Cold, they have invited that fear back into your heart, manifesting as Voice of the Paranoid. “Dead things can’t hurt us.” But what if they could? “S-something should have happened.”

Pulling back from Spectre, or asking if she missed her attack, makes the point more obvious. Cold's belief in the Long Quiet’s invulnerability is not strong enough; Hero questions it, and Cold cannot provide an impassioned enough rebuttal to that anxiety. Quiet did not act first. Observation fails him in a fluid reality.

Fear is weakness. Fear shows vulnerability. If you're afraid of being hurt, you will be. “If you go into this expecting to die, you're going to die.”

Outside of these intrapersonal, internal conflicts, we are refreshed on Voice of the Cold’s viewpoint on everything. 

Voice of the Hero – Well, we didn't have to start over. Voice of the Cold – We killed ourself. The Narrator – And why, pray tell, did you do that? Voice of the Cold – Because you decided to foist an infinite tedium on us. The Narrator – That doesn't sound like me. If I'd had everything my way, you would have effortlessly slain the Princess, saved the world, and been given your happy ending. Voice of the Cold – The ending was the tedium. You locked us in a cabin and sent that cabin to an endless void, and then you told us we were happy. The Narrator – Well... were you happy? Voice of the Hero – Of course we weren't happy! That's why we killed ourself. It was awful! Voice of the Cold – Yes, and then she killed us.

“Cosmic busywork,” “an infinite tedium,” Voice of the Cold is overall unsatisfied with everything that’s occurred up until this point, and he has no interest in hiding that fact. His description of the past few Chapters events makes them sound remarkably boring and matter-of-fact. “We killed ourself, […] and then she killed us.” But the point in-between those two events which he emphasizes is not Quiet’s interaction with the Princess. Cold is still stuck on the Happy Ending.

And yet, even though he's been on a one-on-one conversation with the Narrator for most of this dialogue, the moment an emotion-based question is asked, Voice of the Hero has to step in for him. It's Hero who has to interject, to handle the question of Quiet's emotions. Though Cold knows they did not enjoy the Happy Ending, he's not fit to consider emotional responses and experience. He's not built for that. Hero is better at processing the emotions of this journey than Cold is. (Hero is, ultimately, the reason why using the blade was the better option during the Happy Ending.)

This is not a new opinion of Cold’s. It’s so hard-baked into his character, as an extension of his distaste for the Narrator, that not only does it appear in Chapter III – The Princess and The Dragon (“Then I guess we won't be doing your dirty work”), but it’s also his hatching line in Chapter III – The Fury (“I think I've heard this one before. Does it involve a Princess? Are you trying to get us to do your dirty work?”). Note that, though the phrase "dirty work" has negative connotations, Cold may just be using it to describe the act of murdering a woman in cold blood for what it is, without accepting the Narrator's rhetoric. It doesn't impart empathy onto the victim of said “work.”

Despite everything, Cold is capable of recognizing that continuing this cycle of violence will lead to just that: a cycle. A stagnant cycle, in which nothing new ever really happens, and nothing truly changes. It'll grow repetitive, then boring, then numb. So Cold doesn't really support it, even if he was the main one to suggest perpetuating it.

Voice of the Cold – Is that supposed to be a riddle? If it is, it's not very good.

Voice of the Cold – I'm not sure how we're supposed to kill Him ourself, but He's asking for it. Maybe there's some way she can take care of him for us.

The Narrator – Know that there is always a choice — even if you were stuck in an 'infinite' loop, there's no reason to assume the mere nature of the infinite would force you to make any specific choice. You do have free will, as much as things would be easier if you didn't, and you can just keep making the correct choice forever, never deviating.

…

Voice of the Cold – On second thought, let's not kill Him. Let's throw Him someplace that never ends. I'd like to see what that does to Him.

Beyond this point, Cold has cracked. He's not going to get his redemption arc. The Spectre, the ghost with ideals of unfinished business and new beginnings, is gone; only the Wraith, the vengeful spirit, remains. All Cold has left at this rate is his steadily-increasing hatred for the Narrator. 

For trapping him here. 

For daring to say “there is always a choice,” and following that up by presenting them only one.

For even suggesting something as acrid and vile to him as “making the correct choice forever, never deviating.” 

Cold’s suggestion here to “throw Him someplace that never ends” and “see what that does to Him” is outright motivated by spite. It’s, by far, the worst possible thing Cold could possibly think to do to the Narrator. Death would be a mercy. Cold doesn’t just want the Narrator gone; once He suggests something as triggering to Cold’s sensibilities as that, Cold wants Him to suffer. So, so, so much more than he ever wanted Him dead.

Voice of the Cheated – The more He talks, the more I'm interested in setting her free. The Narrator – Whatever. You don't want to listen to me? Do it, then. Let her out. See what I care. Voice of the Cold – It sounds like somebody's about to crack. •    (Explore) "Are you trying to use reverse-psychology on me or have you just given up?" The Narrator – There's obviously no point in trying to reason with you right now, especially with all of these clowns offering up their useless advice. Honestly it seems like the more I try and talk sense into you, the more single-minded they get about letting her out. So yes. I'm done trying to argue. Voice of the Cold – Would you look at that? We won.

Voice of the Cold is concerned with “winning” against the Narrator. How he determines he’s done so is by seeing the Narrator give up. He wants to see the Narrator fall to nihilism, to the exhaustion He could’ve attempted to force onto Quiet, to the ceaseless entropy which exists in all sapient minds only staved off by the search for stimulus in a monotonous existence. He wants to watch the Narrator crack, shatter, and fall apart. He wants to see His soul drained of will.

Voice of the Cold – Oh, threatening us with death, are we? And why should we be afraid of anything? We've already died twice. It doesn't mean much to us anymore.

[Note Nightmare iteration specifies why they ought to be afraid of “death,” specifically. This iteration generalizes to “anything,” and adds on that death “doesn’t mean much to us anymore.”]

Voice of the Cold – All death has done is shunt us back to these woods where we're forced to listen to your empty warnings again and again.

Cold is less and less considerate to the consequences of his actions with each loop. Having started in a headspace already distorted by early disassociation, Cold's lost what little ability he might've had to care for even the barest concept of mortality in Loop III. Death is of no concern to him. Nothing is of any concern to him. Insofar as Cold has seen, nothing about this loop means anything. 

They’ve died in every way he can imagine, first by their own hand and then by the Princess’s, and neither truly mattered. Neither felt rewarding or even punishing. This eternal life through reincarnation, this soulless immortality, is the most certain curse he knows. 

And the worst part to him is when he has to re-meet the Narrator.

Voice of the Cold – All this standing around and talking is boring. Let's at least do something. Maybe we'll kill her again. Maybe we won't. Maybe we'll even free her.

Voice of the Cold – I suppose the only way to go is forward. So forward we will go. Blade or not, it doesn't really matter, does it?

Cold is simply going through the motions. In a sense, he’s technically going through the motions of what could be viewed as his redemption arc, in Chapter III – The Princess and the Dragon, but he’s doing so with none of the deeper understanding. He suggests freeing her only because it is the next option, the freshest thing to try.

Cold is tired, in Wraith. He's not receptive to life lessons or deeper learning.

Voice of the Cold – I say we let her do it. It's something different. Voice of the Cheated – Do we even have a choice? The Narrator – You always have a choice. Voice of the Hero – Maybe before, but not now. There isn't a blade this time. Voice of the Cheated – Exactly! What choice is there if there isn't a blade? Voice of the Cold – Well, unless you have any specific ideas, I think my vote's the only one that counts.

Voice of the Cold is not even interested in the thought of decisions. They’ve already made most of every choice there is to make, besides freeing the Princess.

In Wraith, Cheated takes on much of Cold’s baggage. He inherits Voice of the Cold’s tunnel vision towards violence, blind to choice without its symbol — the blade, a weapon which we have exclusively used to strike at and reduce the Princess and her will this whole time — and infuriated by his circumstances.

What’s left of Cold is but lingering shadows of the thought patterns he once held.

Voice of the Cold – It's rather rude to show up in somebody else's body and boss it around like this.

Intriguing that Voice of the Cold specifically states “somebody” instead of “someone,” in this dialogue, just about as interesting as it is that he stakes a claim of ownership for somebody in the Long Quiet’s body. It’s not just “a body,” but “somebody’s body,” and one which said somebody is apparently in his eyes entitled to some autonomy over. Something which he breaks his mask of passivity this Chapter to specifically, if idly, chastise the Wraith about.

It would seem most immediately rational, then, that Voice of the Cold is referring to the Decider as “somebody.” Which would likewise imply, by the specification of them instead of himself and his fellow Voices, that Voice of the Cold believes the body is the Decider’s first, and his and the others’ second. He calls them out as a singular entity and specifically notes them as connected to the body, in some way, by that word choice. I’d suggest that way is by ownership. Perhaps a better word for it might be “possession,” if it weren’t for the fact that “possession” in the context of this route and Voice of the Cold specifically seems to carry a rather specific meaning.

Voice of the Cold – It's a new experience. You should try being possessed some time. There's nothing else like it.

Voice of the Cold phrases this as if he has been possessed before. Indeed, from his eyes, he’s been possessed since the first instant he hatched.

“Being possessed,” in mere grammatical phrasing, reduced the one possessed to an object. The one possessed is at the will and mercy of the one possessing. The word carries additional baggage and connotations of ownership, as one “possesses” things, which the Wraith corroborates with her dialogue claiming us to be “hers.”

The difference between the possession in Spectre and the possession in Wraith is the degree of control exerted by the ghost. Cold has no qualms with Spectre entering into The Long Quiet’s body in Chapter II, and in fact even welcomes her in as a new “roommate,” because she behaves essentially as not much more than an additional Voice. Cold does find Wraith “rude,” because she breaks the unspoken convention between Voices that the Decider is “the one who makes the decisions around here.” It’s a social faux pas in the body’s hierarchy. (Essentially, the Long Quiet is a building, the Decider is a landlord, and everyone else in Cold’s eyes is a tenant.)

The extent to which Voice of the Cold values his own (and the other Voices’) will, versus the Decider’s, implies that Voice of the Cold considers the Decider the de facto “possesser” in their arrangement. He is fine with letting the Decider take control and guide the rest of the Voices around. He seems content, even, with such an arrangement. Hence why he dismisses the others’ panicked suggestions with the line “I think my vote's the only one that counts,” because he doesn’t really hold much stock in the others except for their differing perspectives, the contrast of which provides new and creative ideas as its primary value generator. But they have no “specific ideas,” just ideas and feelings without substance, which, to Cold, is functionally worthless. So, the Long Quiet might as well “let her do it,” and surrender a fragment of the Decider’s autonomy in the process.

The Wraith – If I were you, I would just want to just get it over with! You lost your chance to call the shots, there's no going back to fix it now. You can either look on in horror or celebrate my freedom, but either way, you're about to become a passenger.

THE WRAITH – AND HOW WOULD YOU DO THAT? YOU DON'T HAVE A WILL TO WIELD. YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN DRAINED OF COURAGE.

Of course, when Voice of the Cold frames it as the Long Quiet “letting her do it,” instead of as her forcing herself upon them, he does retain an illusion of autonomy for them through voluntary submission. He flips the grammar of the sentence. It is not Wraith who is the active subject, but the Long Quiet. If they truly didn’t want this, they’d come up with a way to fight against it; ergo, they chose this, and ergo, they retain a spot of dignity. 

In truth, it wouldn’t matter if the Long Quiet struggled against her or not. “There is no choice here; she will take what she is owed” (Memories, the Wraith – 8). But Cold’s dissociation from those stakes and him calling Wraith out as “rude” comes from the same place. It inherently downplays this violent interaction to something of a social one. Which ties back into my prior point, about violence being a language, and thus events like these being a sort of conversation in Cold’s eyes.

Wraith’s rebuttal, that “IT IS RUDE TO MURDER,” doesn’t really track in Cold’s perspective. They’ve both killed each other. This, the forceful possession, goes a little beyond ideas of attacks, assaults, and the option between surrender and self-defense, retaliation or reconciliation. The Wraith denies them autonomy by taking it as her own, denying them Cold’s value of “something to do.” Instead, the Decider is relegated partially to an in-between position with the Voices and that “Decider”/leadership/Host/fronting position. Their body (autonomy) is taken in a different way than the Decider “took” the Princess’s body (life) back in Chapter I.

Instead, Wraith denies what might be the Decider’s core trait in Cold’s eyes: their will. They are rendered, like he’s been this whole time, drained; emptied. A passenger in a body which is no longer their own.

The Narrator – You slowly make your way towards the gaping maw that awaits you. Your fraying nerves buzz with trepidation, the chill wind raising your hackles as it gently pushes you forward, towards the darkness at the end of the hallway. You can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. Voice of the Cold – We've always been watched. You're watching us right now. Sometimes the feeling is just stronger than others. Voice of the Cheated – I feel like you're trying to put us on edge. We don't need all this anticipation, we just need this to be over.

The Long Quiet, as a collective system, is always being watched, because they are always watching themself. The Decider’s choices are viewed by their Voices. Their Voices’ commentary are viewed by their Decider. They are always a witness to their internal existence.

(Cold’s characterization is inherently connected to the idea of the Long Quiet’s plurality. It’s why the I/we distinction in his dialogue is so important.)

An interesting perusal into Voice of the Cold’s perspective on the situation... but one which diverges significantly from the Wraith’s view of these events.

There is no “conversation.”

The Wraith – Whatcha looking at, killer? Staring into the void? Thinking about what it'd be like to die again? I know exactly how you feel.

…

The Wraith – But do you know how I feel? I gave you a path to forgiveness. I gave you a chance to make things right. – I thought maybe you'd see what you've done and feel remorseful, maybe try to make it up to me. But no... you'd rather use that knife to keep making the same mistake over and over and over. – Even after I ripped your heart out, you still cut me. And for what? I didn't go anywhere. You didn't banish me. I'm right back here with you, a little better, a little worse. – Well... maybe a lot worse.

•    (Explore) "I thought you couldn't possess me on your own. I thought I needed to agree to it." The Wraith – That was then. This is now. •    (Explore) "Do you need to take my body? Can't I just... open the door for you?" The Wraith – I don't think you get the magnitude of hatred that sits between us. You've broken more trust than I thought I had. – We're past the point of compromise. I'm taking your body, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.

There was no “reply,” in Voice of the Cold prompting Quiet to slash her neck as they died. There was no meaning to be found within. It, to her, was just a showing of spite; for what, whatever she did to earn this vitriolic, Cheated look in his eyes when he stares at her now, she has no clue. “WHY DO YOU HATE ME?” “What did I ever do to deserve you?” The Princess, the Spectre; they’ve done nothing but be victimized at Quiet’s hands, executed and tormented for crimes he cannot enumerate to her beyond her simply existing.

What is it about her, the victim here, that leaves him so Paranoid at the state of her complexion? Does she look terrifying now? She is only a reflection of him, and of what he turned her into. She would not have had to find such drive and strength within herself if only she could have found it and companionship in him; but he denied her that resolution. She must find it by her own means. Because “you’ve made it obvious you don’t want to help.” And she still needs to find home.

Is Spectre a victim becoming a victimizer, or is Quiet simply a victimizer playing victim after she retaliates? “Evil is all about perspective.”

•    (Explore) "Look, we're even now. I killed you, and then you killed me. Water under the bridge, right?" The Wraith – And you think that's even? How adorable. – But I think you forgot about the part where you tried killing me again.

…

•    (Explore) "I'm a victim in all of this too, you know!" The Wraith – And sometimes victims become the same as their victimizers. Just because someone hurt you doesn't mean you get a free pass.

Voice of the Hero – We were going to let you out of here! That's the whole reason we marched all the way back up to the cabin. Voice of the Cold – Were we? Voice of the Hero – I was! THE WRAITH – I KNOW YOU WERE. BUT YOU WERE GOING TO DO IT FOR THE WRONG REASONS.

Voice of the Hero – We weren't always like this, we— Voice of the Cold – I've always been like this. THE WRAITH – ALL I'M DOING IS REAPING WHAT YOU'VE SOWN.

VoT Cold does not care for the Princess. When he suggests freeing her in Wraith, he's not doing it out of the kindness of his heart, nor is he doing it as recompense for his past transgressions, nor does he feel remorse or an obligation to do the right thing. He feels nothing. The only reason he suggests the act is that it's the next new thing he can think to do, an added bonus that it would spite the Narrator as well. He doesn't truly consider the Princess at all in this plan, only the action, "to free." 

He views her in terms of the services she can provide, the intrigue she offers. Maybe she can take care of Him. It'll at least be interesting.

It's the conceptualization lottery, and Spectre!Wraith is the world's unluckiest Princess to ever be subjected to its uncaring whims. Had the Long Quiet not been told to slay her first, they may have thought to free her sooner than not. Had Hero took Cold aside and explained the situation, had the Decider thought through the situation a little further, she would at least be in a better position. But that's not the way things get to go for her, is it?

Wraith is freed Spectre's dark mirror. It recontextualizes Cold's motives here and retrospectively weakens what little redemption he might've grasped through Spectre, for wasn't he doing it for the "wrong reasons" then, too? Certainly; but the later they wait to make the right decision, and the more harm they do in the meantime, the less and less those "right decisions" mean. At least in Spectre, they had the space to consider a change of heart. In Wraith, it's been made more than clear: they're just running through their options, from worst to best.

"Evil is all about perspective," we are told, in Wraith, versus "a villain to one person might be a hero to others" in the Princess and the Dragon. Twisted reflections of the conversations we could have and people we could become, if only we made better choices. If only we chose to be better people, better to each other and ourselves.

Voice of the Paranoid – Okay. Deep breath. This is fine. This is fine. This is FINE. – What am I talking about? This isn't fine. It was better when she was a normal ghost. Voice of the Cold – It is fine. Everything is always fine. These consequences have no real impact on us outside of momentary discomfort. I'm sure we'll be moving on again soon enough.

Voice of the Hero – We're putting in everything we have. Voice of the Cold – You're not. You're thinking too much about how she's hurting us. You're thinking too much about your body. It's just a body.

Notice that Cold brings up turning off pain receptors specifically to assist in the task Paranoid sets up. Where Paranoid's mantra fails, Cold picks it up. He gets Paranoid to push Quiet’s will just that much farther. This is, and will always be, Cold's way of helping.

This pragmatic logic is Cold's “common sense.” If you can tolerate joy, you can tolerate pain. It's all just sensations to him.

Fear and disassociation are opposing forces, and both, by their natures, snuff out the other. disassociation comes in when the fear is too great and your circumstances too hopeless; it's a defense mechanism for the internal. Fear is for the external. But the two may still come together, in times of peak stress, to push the whole body past its farthest limits.

Cold will help Quiet in either task they set themself upon. He will dull the pain so they can endure the task of freeing Wraith, or he will dissociate everyone from the body so they may push through the pain to throw themselves off a ledge.

But, judging by his last remaining motives within this Construct and the responses we've seen from his character already... It's clear that he'd prefer the former case.

Voice of the Cheated – Enough is enough! I'm tired of us always losing! It's. Just. A step. AWAY! THE WRAITH – EVEN IF YOU THROW YOURSELF INTO THE ABYSS, YOU STILL LOSE!

THE WRAITH – HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Voice of the Paranoid – Hahaha! We did it! We actually did it! Voice of the Cold – Yes, we've really shown them all, haven't we?

THE WRAITH – WHY DO YOU HATE ME? The Narrator – Her thought slips through you, unheeded, as you fall, and fall, and fall.

…

Voice of the Cheated – What an end. But at least it's ours. Voice of the Cold – An empire of frigid nothing.

"An empire of frigid nothing." – Voice of the Cold (Chapter III, The Wraith)

The adrenaline wears off, and you have to see your circumstances for what they are eventually.

“An empire of frigid nothing.” A continuous, constant, endless stream of “cosmic busy work.” Slaying the Princess, putting in so much hard work, just for it to all go unappreciated time and time again. The Narrator does not even so much as congratulate Quiet this time around; He “doesn’t think this counts as saving the world,” despite it being the most they’ve tried yet. “EVEN IF YOU THROW YOURSELF INTO THE ABYSS, YOU STILL LOSE.” Their reward is the same as it’s always been. Itero, ad infinitum.

Cold enjoys spiting the Narrator more than spiting the Princess. It's a consistent character trait of his across this whole route. His passing spite of the Princess is to corrupt her, to drag her down into these icy depths with him, and to drown them in these frigid waters together.

It's why he's so dissatisfied with "flipping the table" with Cheated, and so sarcastic with Paranoid's manic victory. In focusing so hard on "winning," on "getting one over" on the Princess, they've all trapped themselves. "We've really shown them all," but what was the point in "showing" the Princess? They're trapped in the same abyss they threw her into. This perpetual cycle of meaningless violence. They aren't freed of anything. If anything, they've just continuously been going along with His whims this whole time. Nothing's changed.

Even now, in the depths of their worst moments, they can still choose to do the right thing. The different thing. 

If not for the "right" reasons… then for no reason at all. “Even if you were stuck in an 'infinite' loop, there's no reason to assume the mere nature of the infinite would force you to make any specific choice. […] You can just keep making the correct choice forever, never deviating.” And, if you've made the wrong one, you can choose any time to deviate from that cycle of violence… and follow a new path in the woods. 

Follow Cheated's violent tunnel vision he inherited from Cold, and Quiet will grant themself the empire of frigid nothing Cold hatched to avoid: continuing an endless cycle of violence that only makes the both The Hero and The Princess worse, and worse, and worse, speaking to each other only in their mother tongue of violence and bloodshed. They accept a bad end that's “ours, at least.” Clinging to a projected ideal of autonomy as they trap themselves in a cage made of their own bodies, bound together, twisted into one through violent means.

Alternatively...

"An end is an end. Let's see what it has in store for us." – Voice of the Cold (Chapter III, The Wraith)

Voice of the Hero – This is it, then. The big moment. Voice of the Cheated – I just hope it's a way out. THE WRAITH – THE HANDLE CLICKS AND WE PUSH FORWARD. THE AIR IS DIFFERENT HERE. TRUTH – But as you step outside the bounds of the cabin, you feel another violent tear, a rending that cuts all the way down to your soul. – You are once again separated from everything that had nestled in the deep crevices of your body, from everything that isn't you. Voice of the Hero – We're us again. Voice of the Cold – How interesting. Voice of the Cheated – We actually won, didn't we?

End it all, right here and now, and see what the end of this cycle brings into its place. See what a better end “has in store for us,” through Cold's utter lack of attachment. Cold doesn't get the chance to grow as he had before, but he can still... find the faintest "win," in this dirty work the Narrator set up for him.

At this this is new. And least they go somewhere else with this. At least the Narrator doesn't get His way with this.

Is it the right thing for the wrong reason? Who cares? Why care what we think of each other, when we're setting each other free? Why think about perspective and evil and lingering hurt?

“We've been turned against each other by something that understands the strength of our unity.” – Wild.

Cold harbors no ill will towards the Princess; in Wraith, he doesn't care about her at all. But he'll always harbor ill will towards the Narrator, and so between spiting her or spiting Him, Cold will want — spoken aloud or not — to spite Him every time. And perhaps... 

[Chapter II – The Spectre]

•    (Explore) "The people who wanted you dead tricked me, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Let's team up." The Narrator – Nobody 'tricked you' and the fact that the Princess' spirit has risen from the dead should be more than enough evidence that she isn't exactly sweet and innocent. It's all been an act. She's pretending. Voice of the Cold – I wouldn't say she's ever pretended to be sweet or innocent. Voice of the Hero – She does have a little bit of an attitude... but I can't blame her, we did kill her after all. I wouldn't be nice to my murderer if I was killed. The Spectre – 'The enemy of my enemy...' The Narrator – The Princess circles you again, her icy fingertips trailing up your spine, sending shivers rippling across your flesh. The Spectre – I don't want enemies. I don't want to fight. I just want to go home. – Is that really so much to ask?

...that is enough. If you just let go of your morality. If you just. Exist.

Like Voice of the Cold does.