lewis woke at 05:42, according to his watch's altimeter screen. inside the tent, the temperature was -15.6°c. thin frost coated the inside fabric, glittering in the faint light from his headlamp. condensation from their breath had frozen during the night, forming a translucent layer that made the whole space shimmer like glass. hendrick was still asleep, curled inside his down sleeping bag, his breath shallow and quick a typical physiological response to reduced oxygen pressure at this altitude.
lewis quietly checked the barometer:
> altitude: 3,008 m
pressure: 523 mmhg
o₂ saturation (self): 82%
pulse rate: 94 bpm
external wind: 12 km/h north-northwest
he felt the familiar heaviness in his head, the sense that his thoughts were moving through syrup. it wasn't exhaustion it was hypoxia, the brain's neurons struggling for oxygen. the prefrontal cortex, responsible for logical sequencing, becomes sluggish; the amygdala becomes overactive. it was easy to mistake confusion or fear for external phenomena up here.
he boiled snow to make water, using a titanium stove that hissed quietly. steam fogged the inside of the tent. when hendrick finally stirred, his face was pale, lips slightly blue.
"morning," lewis said softly.
"i didn't sleep," hendrick murmured. "someone was outside again."
"you're sure?"
"yes. i heard the same footsteps. and... a bell."
"bell?"
hendrick nodded, eyes unfocused. "like a prayer bell. metal, small. i thought i was dreaming, but it kept ringing. steady rhythm, maybe every ten seconds."
lewis didn't respond immediately. he opened his notebook instead, writing:
> auditory anomaly 02: metallic chime, periodic at 10 ± 1 sec. both subjects heard. direction: undefined.
after breakfast two protein bars and rehydrated oats they packed their gear and prepared to ascend. the slope above them was steep enough to require crampons and ice axes. basalt ridges jutted from the snow, black veins through white. according to topographic data, the next leg would take them to about 6,000 meters, crossing what geologists once labeled "unstable electromagnetic field region." lewis had always dismissed that phrase as superstition from faulty sensors, but the readings he'd logged last night made him reconsider.
they started climbing at 07:10. air density continued to thin. lewis tracked every hour with meticulous precision temperature, pressure, heart rate, hydration. hendrick grew quieter the higher they went. by 08:40, at around 3,800 meters, he stopped mid-ascent, pressing a hand to his helmet.
"it's happening again," he said.
"what is?"
"that sound. like whispering inside the rock."
lewis paused, listening. through the wind's constant hiss, there was indeed a faint vibration low, harmonic, resonating through their boots. it followed a frequency of about 30–33 hz, consistent with infrasound produced by geological microfractures. but the pattern felt too structured, almost like breathing intervals.
"could be subglacial resonance," lewis said quietly, though his voice lacked conviction.
hendrick frowned. "does subglacial resonance ever say my name?"
lewis froze. "what?"
hendrick stared at the slope. "it said my name. twice."
for the next hour, they climbed in silence. every movement required conscious effort; at this altitude, each step consumed measurable oxygen. wind chill brought effective temperature down to -28°c. their breath plumed into white ribbons that immediately dissipated.
by noon, visibility dropped as fog rolled in from the valley below. particles of ice crystal reflected sunlight into a diffuse silver halo. they stopped to set up temporary rest near a basalt overhang. hendrick removed his gloves briefly, and lewis saw his fingernails turning slightly purple peripheral cyanosis. he handed him the portable oxygen canister.
"two minutes, steady flow," lewis said.
hendrick obeyed, then nodded slowly. "thanks."
"we rest here fifteen minutes. after that we move or we'll freeze."
during the rest, lewis noticed something in the fog below a movement, faint but deliberate. at first he thought it was thermal distortion. then, as he adjusted his goggles, he saw a silhouette: tall, slender, wearing layered fabric or robes that fluttered slightly. it was motionless, positioned roughly fifty meters downslope. even at that distance, he could make out the curve of the head bald, elongated slightly, the skin pale gray against the fog.
hendrick saw it too. his breathing quickened.
"that's him," he whispered.
"who?"
"the man from last night."
lewis stared for several seconds. the figure didn't move, didn't advance. it only seemed to be, as though it had always been there.
then, slowly, it raised a hand palm open, facing them. the gesture wasn't threatening; it looked almost like greeting. the moment lasted perhaps four seconds before the fog thickened, erasing the figure completely.
hendrick grabbed lewis's arm. "you saw that?"
"yes," lewis said.
"then it's not just me."
"no," lewis said quietly. "it's not just you."
he recorded the observation:
> visual anomaly 02: humanoid silhouette approx. 1.8–2.0 m tall, stationary, gesture (palm raised). both subjects confirm. duration: ~4 sec. visibility: low, fog density high. physical trace: none.
they continued climbing. the terrain became increasingly erratic patches of ice alternating with porous volcanic rock. lewis measured magnetic interference using a handheld gaussmeter. normal terrestrial field should have read around 50 µt, but the reading oscillated between 47 and 89 µt in irregular pulses, like a heartbeat.
he frowned. "magnetic flux this unstable shouldn't exist naturally," he muttered.
hendrick didn't answer; he was muttering something under his breath, a rhythmic repetition of words lewis couldn't make out. only when he listened closer did he realize hendrick was repeating, over and over:
"don't look out. don't look out. don't look out."
they reached 5,300 meters by late afternoon. wind speed had increased to 40 km/h. temperature dropped below -30°c. frost formed on their backpacks, their lashes, the ropes. hendrick's coordination began to falter mild ataxia. lewis forced him to stop, administer oxygen again, and rest for twenty minutes. both drank from melted snow stored in insulated flasks.
hendrick finally spoke. "lewis, i think the hill's alive."
lewis stared at him. "it's rock."
"no. listen." hendrick pressed his ear against the ice. faintly, a low vibration pulsed beneath. it was rhythmic, almost cardiac.
"you hear that?" hendrick asked.
lewis did. the vibration was real frequency roughly 1.2 hz.
"maybe geothermal," lewis said automatically, though something in his tone betrayed uncertainty.
"it's breathing," hendrick whispered.
they decided to camp at 5,600 meters before nightfall. the plateau they found was narrow, exposed on three sides. setting the tent took over an hour in the freezing wind. when it was done, they crawled inside, exhausted. hendrick fell asleep almost instantly. lewis stayed awake, writing by headlamp:
> anomaly 03: recurring low-frequency oscillation, approx. 1.2 hz, amplitude increasing with altitude. possible seismic pulse or unknown resonance.
additional note: visual contact with unidentified figure confirmed by both observers. behavioral data suggest awareness or intentional gesture.
he paused, fingers trembling slightly. then, almost as an afterthought, he added:
> subjective perception: the mountain is aware of observation.
he closed the notebook. outside, the fog had thickened into near-whiteout. and then, very faintly through the fabric of the tent, he heard it again the bell. a single metallic note, repeating every ten seconds, steady, unwavering.
hendrick stirred, half-awake.
"you hear it too," he murmured.
"yes," lewis whispered.
"then it's real."
"yes."
"it's calling us," hendrick said.
lewis didn't answer. he just listened, the sound syncing perfectly with his own heartbeat, until the line between the two rhythms vanished.
the bell continued through the night. not loud, not urgent just constant, patient, as if the mountain were breathing and waiting for them to listen.