Silence at the Top
The air was eerily still up here. No wind, no sound—just the occasional groan of shifting ice far below. The surface stretched flat in places, jagged in others, with patches of frost glinting like glass. For a brief moment, Thomas and Greg felt relief, but it was fleeting. Something about this place was off. Too quiet. Too still. Both men stood, exchanging a look that said the same thing: keep moving.
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