The Distant Threshold
The icebreaker is the first thing you notice. Not the sound, but the way it splits the silence of the cabin. You are in the back of a snowcat, the diesel engine coughing a rhythm that feels less like machinery and more like a dying heart. Outside, the white void presses against the reinforced glass. It is not empty. It is full. Full of a cold so profound it has weight, a pressure that seeks the...
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