In the water samples taken from an underground Antarctic lake, researchers discovered a set of completely unknown biological genes.
To better study them, we organized a research team and planned to head to Antarctica immediately for sampling.
That evening, I received a call from an unknown number.
A strange, hoarse voice on the other end told me:
"Don't go."
---
I sat in front of my computer, frowning at my thesis. Honestly, even I thought this garbage wasn't worth publishing.
But I'd already racked my brains over it.
Maybe I shouldn't have pursued a PhD in the first place. I don't know what kind of dumb luck got me admitted, and now my thesis was months overdue. All these years wasted!
Just as I was pulling my hair out, my advisor knocked on my desk. "Come to my office."
Great, I thought in despair. Professor Marshall probably thinks I'm hopeless and wants to kick me out.
I took a deep breath and nervously followed him into his office.
Professor Marshall sat in his wooden chair and tossed a piece of paper at me casually.
"Take a look."
I picked it up anxiously and scanned it.
It was a lab report.
"Sample 0360 has yielded an unknown biological gene specimen, ruling out any match with all known organisms on Earth."
I frowned. "0360 — that's from the Lake Trib subglacial sampling in Antarctica? A new organism?"
Professor Marshall lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
"Yes. The higher-ups are giving us less and less support for biological research. Do you know how much funding we got this year?"
I ventured a guess. "Five million?"
"Heh." He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and coughed.
"Five million my ass. Three hundred thousand!"
He held up three fingers and cursed. "What the hell can you do with three hundred thousand? Can't even catch a kangaroo in Australia!"
"So what about this..." I gripped the paper, a small crease forming where my fingers pressed.
If my thesis went nowhere and the project had no future, what was the point? I might as well drop out and get a factory job.
Professor Marshall crushed his cigarette butt between his fingers, his brow deeply furrowed. "I've fought with the higher-ups. I want to put together an expedition team to go to Antarctica and find out what this specimen really is.
"If we discover something major, our funding might be saved, and your garbage thesis won't be a problem anymore.
"The plan is to set off late next month — board the ship by the end of September, arrive in Antarctica in November when it's summer there. Suffer for a few months, come back and crank out three or five papers, easy."
He lit another cigarette. Through the swirling smoke, his eyes, squeezed into the deep crevices of his weathered face, locked onto mine. "So, are you in or not?"
I hesitated.
Antarctica wasn't like popping down to the corner store. You couldn't just decide to go.
Average temperatures of minus several dozen degrees. My ears would freeze right off!
Professor Marshall didn't give me much time to deliberate. He said impatiently, "Marcus, Serena, and Kevin have all agreed.
"You're the only one left. Everyone else will graduate while you're stuck. Don't go around telling people you're my student — it's embarrassing!"
I gripped the paper tightly, thought for a moment, and gritted my teeth.
"Fine. I'll go."
Honestly, it came down to sunk costs. I'd already invested too much to quit now.
I was twenty-seven. If I couldn't finish my PhD, I wouldn't be considered a fresh graduate anymore. Finding a job would be nearly impossible.
I couldn't give up. I had no choice but to keep going.
That evening, Marcus called me. Marcus was a senior in our program. We had two "Zhangs" in our group — one big, one small.
Because the big one was enormous, pushing six-foot-five and built like a bear, we all called him Marcus.
He'd actually joined a year ahead of me, but because his thesis wasn't coming together either, he'd already been held back a year. He was probably even more anxious than I was.
"Chloe, I heard you're going to Antarctica too?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "If I don't go, I can't graduate. My thesis is running on fumes and I'm losing hair over it."
Marcus commiserated. "Tell me about it. Damn, I heard Serena's coming too. Is she really reliable?"
Serena — what Professor Marshall called "Little Li."
She was universally acknowledged as a pretty face with nothing behind it. Rumor had it she'd gotten in through the back door, because apart from dressing up and going clubbing every day, she couldn't do a thing.
She'd even reapply her lipstick during lab experiments.
She hadn't published a single paper, but Professor Marshall never gave her a hard time. Supposedly it had something to do with her boyfriend, who drove a Rolls-Royce.
If she came along, she wouldn't just be useless — she'd actively drag us down.
I tried to reassure myself. "The professor probably won't let her do any real work. Just think of her as an extra mascot."
Marcus groaned. "Why do I feel so uneasy about this? The professor hasn't told us anything. Just says we're leaving next month. I don't know anything and it's freaking me out."
"I don't know either. Just follow his lead. He's going too — he wouldn't screw himself over."
"Alright, I guess."
After hanging up, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
I couldn't tell my parents about this. There was no way they'd let me go.
But if I didn't tell them, how was I supposed to hide it for months? This trip would take at least half a year.
Just as I was worrying about it, the phone beside me rang.
I picked it up and checked — an unknown number.
Probably another sales call. Ever since I hit my mid-twenties, I'd been getting daily calls about enrolling kids in tutoring classes.
I answered with impatience. "Not interested, not taking any exams, don't have kids, not buying a car."
The line was dead silent.
"Hello?"
A voice came through, crackling with static interference. The tone was low, raspy, impossible to tell if it was male or female, young or old.
"Don't go to Antarctica."
I frowned. "What did you say?"
The line was quiet for a moment. Then that unsettling voice came again:
"Don't go to Antarctica. You won't come back."
The call ended.
I sat there on my bed, phone in hand, a chill running down my spine. My skin broke out in goosebumps.
In a movie, this would be the textbook opening of a horror film.
But then I thought about it and figured it out.
It had to be Serena pulling some stunt. She didn't want me going either.
As the only two female students under Professor Marshall, Serena and I had never gotten along.
I looked down on her for dressing like a Christmas tree every day and being utterly useless, getting by on connections.
She looked down on me for being a bookworm who never put any effort into her appearance.
Basically, our vibes just didn't match.
We'd pulled plenty of petty pranks on each other, so when I got that call, my first thought was that Serena was up to her usual tricks again.
I ignored it and went online to do research.
Antarctica was no joke. I needed to start preparing immediately.
---
This summer wasn't particularly hot — or maybe it just felt that way because I'd been cooped up in the lab all day.
After the Mid-Autumn Festival, time flew by and it was late September.
Before we left, our classmates threw us a farewell dinner. Everyone was happy, clinking glasses and laughing.
When we came back, we'd have our theses and graduate. Professor Marshall would get his funding and keep his research going. We all had bright futures ahead!
After a few rounds of drinks, I noticed that Kevin's glass was still full. He hadn't touched a drop.
Kevin sat quietly by himself. The overhead lights turned his face a sickly pale, as if he'd erected a force field around himself, completely separate from the raucous atmosphere.
"What's wrong, Kevin?" I stumbled over, already buzzed. "Not drinking? Nervous about Antarctica?"
Kevin smiled softly.
"Yeah, a little."
The dinner table was so loud and my brain so thoroughly colonized by alcohol that I didn't catch his next words.
"A little homesick, I guess."
---
The next day, when we boarded the ship, everyone was excited.
This was a six-thousand-ton icebreaker. Who knows if we'd ever get a chance to ride one again.
On her red hull, several bold characters were painted: Polar Howler.
The bow gleamed with icy metallic luster in the sunlight, like a dormant leviathan ready to break through any ice.
"Whoa," Marcus marveled. "How much does this thing cost? Tens of millions?"
Professor Marshall snorted dismissively. "Pathetic question. Tens of millions? You couldn't even afford the bow!"
---
Serena showed up wearing a red floral camisole, lugging two enormous Hello Kitty suitcases, looking less like she was heading to Antarctica and more like she was going on vacation in the Maldives.
Her face was painted ghostly white — noticeably a different shade from her neck — and she flitted around the ship like a butterfly, chirping happily: "I want this room!"
That was the best room on the ship — great light, plenty of space.
I couldn't be bothered to compete with her and chose the room farthest from hers.
Serena would be on the phone with her boyfriend until midnight every night, cooing and whispering sweet nothings. Disgusting. I couldn't take it.
As a stirring whistle echoed across the harbor, the massive anchor slowly began to rise.
We were underway.
A bunch of us stood on deck, buzzing with excitement. The distant horizon stretched in an unbroken line where sea met sky, and flocks of seagulls trailed the great vessel, their white wings flashing in the brilliant sunlight.
On the shore, my parents were waving frantically at me.
I'd ended up telling them after all. My mom was dead set against it at first, but she eventually caved to my stubbornness and my dad's persuasion.
"If she doesn't go and can't graduate, then what?!"
She'd cried half the night before. Even from this distance, I could see her swollen, red eyes.
My heart ached a little, but the excitement of heading to Antarctica quickly pushed the feeling aside. I waved at them with all my might. "Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!"
The icebreaker picked up speed. The people on shore grew smaller and smaller until they were just specks, then nothing at all.
Everyone milled around the deck, pointing and gawking at everything.
Serena still had her parasol up, insisting she didn't want her skin to get any darker.
Professor Marshall stood at the bow, staring out at the distance.
The distant waves reflected a blinding glare under the sun, but he stared ahead without flinching, as if he couldn't see the light at all.
I watched for a while until the brightness started to hurt my face.
I should've known — we still had to cross the equator. I wished I'd brought sunscreen.
The journey would take over a month. We were leaving in late September, so we'd arrive in Antarctica around November, just in time for the Antarctic summer.
Of course, Antarctic summer still meant temperatures of minus twenty or thirty. Basically like spending the dead of winter in the coldest part of the north.
The thousand-ton vessel sailed smoothly, especially in the river mouth area — barely a ripple. It felt more stable than a train.
Watching the coastline disappear, I couldn't shake a vague sense of dread.
Was it just fear of the unknown, or something else?
I didn't know. I pushed the feeling down.
I'd never lived on a ship before. The first day I nearly threw up everything in my stomach.
I was in my cabin, heaving until there was nothing left, when Professor Marshall came by and handed me a blister pack of seasickness pills. "Why didn't you say you get seasick? Is it bad?
"Take three in the morning and three at night."
I waved weakly. "I'm fine. Just need to get used to it."
He patted my back, poured me a glass of water, and left.
A little while later, he came back with a few oranges.
"Take your medicine, get some rest. Keep the orange peels in your room — the smell helps with the nausea."
He set the oranges on my nightstand and quietly closed the door behind him.
I felt a wave of warmth.
Professor Marshall might seem like a grumpy, antisocial old man, but he really did care about us.
Maybe because he had no children of his own — sometimes he treated us like his own kids.
Whether it was the seasickness pills or my body simply adjusting, by the second day I was starting to feel better.
Life on the ship was monotonous. Cell signal came and went, and the only thing visible beyond the rails was ocean, ocean, and more ocean.
After the initial two days of excitement, boredom set in by day three.
The weather turned terrible as we entered the open ocean. I saw for the first time what truly terrifying waves looked like.
Surging seas roared toward us, and our massive icebreaker tossed on the vast waters like a plastic toy. Waves several meters high crashed against the fourth-deck windows, leaving shattered trails of water.
Walking on the ship was a wobbly affair. Sometimes you couldn't even stand upright.
At night I even bumped my head on the bed frame hard enough to raise a lump.
The captain forbade us from going above deck until the weather improved and the ship steadied.
As we sailed south, we crossed the scorching equator. The water became distinctly clearer, with excellent visibility. Beneath the cerulean sky, the sea took on an almost surreal translucent blue, and pods of dolphins raced alongside the bow, leaving trails of white spray.
Everyone crowded to the bow to take photos. Marcus shoved his phone at me. "Quick, quick! Take a picture of me!"
He flashed a peace sign and bared his teeth in a huge grin.
I laughed and snapped the shot. "You're blocking the dolphins! All I can see is you!"
Serena had her selfie stick out, puckering her lips at a 45-degree angle.
A gust of wind caught her enormous hat and sent it flying. She shrieked and reached out: "My hat!"
I snapped a photo, thoroughly amused.
---
After entering the westerly winds belt, the seas grew rough again.
This time we were veterans. We all holed up in our rooms and tried to move as little as possible.
Serena had it worse than me — her seasickness never let up, and she threw up constantly.
Derek went around consoling each of us. "Once we get through the westerlies, we'll be there soon. Hang in there."
Derek was the leader of the Antarctic expedition team — the quintessential golden boy. Tall, handsome, and wealthy, from a family of scientists who'd taken him all over the world since childhood.
We were hitching a ride on their expedition.
Though not much older than us, Derek had already been to Antarctica twice. The team he led was experienced, more than capable of handling a bunch of rookies like us.
He wasn't lying. The next morning, I was woken by Marcus's excited shouting.
A violent shudder, then his voice:
"Chloe! Icebergs!"
When he said "icebergs," the first thing that flashed through my mind was the Titanic, and I jolted upright in panic.
Then it clicked.
We'd made it to Antarctica.
Out on deck, a biting wind laced with ice crystals slammed into my face, cold enough to make me flinch.
I hurried back inside and threw on my coat and windbreaker.
The bow was packed with excited people, all snapping photos with their phones. Marcus held up his video camera, shouting as he filmed: "Seals! Seals!"
I looked up and froze.
Far off, the sea and sky merged into one. The whole world seemed like a vast sphere of lapis lazuli, colors so pure they appeared untouched by any pollution.
On the distant horizon, rolling icebergs stretched endlessly. Where the white ice met the water, it shaded into a translucent ice-blue, deepening as it disappeared beneath the surface.
Hundreds of enormous icebergs sat silently on the sea like towering crystal sentinels, watching over us — these visitors from a world away.
A fin whale surfaced near the stern, its blowhole spouting a plume of water that caught the sunlight and sprayed into glittering crystals.
This marvelous sight, the kind you'd only expect in fairy tales, left me stunned.
Antarctica — this frozen land at the edge of the world. We'd finally arrived.
After a month at sea, we were all fired up. We crowded the deck, taking in the view and snapping photos.
I took picture after picture, especially of the whales, planning to show my parents when I got back.
As the ship began to slow, I went below early to get my things together.
Just one deck down, I spotted Professor Marshall standing in a shadowed corner, head bowed.
His left hand held a photograph that he was staring at fixedly. His right hand held a lit cigarette, the ash grown long and fallen to the floor.
His eyes seemed vacant — looking at the photo, or maybe through it at something else entirely.
I walked over with a smile. "Professor, we're almost there. There are whales out there — you should go see!"
He startled, as if he'd just noticed me, and looked up abruptly. "Oh..."
He stuffed the photo into his pocket. I caught a glimpse — it looked like a photo of two people.
Was Professor Marshall missing his wife?
He flicked the ash and took a final drag, the butt glowing bright. "Have you been suffering these past few days? Still seasick?"
I shook my head. "Much better. Professor, you should pack up too — we'll be disembarking soon."
He nodded. As he passed me, he didn't forget to remind me: "Dress warmly. Don't be like Serena, sacrificing warmth for fashion. This isn't home — catching a cold here is no joke."
I nodded.
---
After more than a month at sea, we were all exhausted.
But when we saw this magnificent, awe-inspiring landscape, every trace of fatigue and boredom evaporated.
I put on my goggles and carefully descended the gangway.
Fresh snow crunched under my boots with a satisfying sound.
I took a deep breath and jumped onto the ground.
How incredible — a month ago I'd been sweltering in the heat of summer, and now I stood on polar ice.
Derek released his grip on my arm and smiled. "Don't worry — the ice here is at least a meter or two thick. You won't fall through."
We boarded the tracked vehicle and headed for the research station.
Maybe because the entire landscape was a wash of white, the Antarctic sun seemed glaringly bright, yet it carried no warmth at all.
The light that fell on my skin felt cold, as if even the photons were made of ice.
That evening, the research team threw us a welcome party that rivaled our send-off.
Everyone celebrated with music and dancing — even Serena and I managed a toast.
In this vast, indifferent landscape, we all felt the profound smallness of being human.
The researchers weren't much older than us, basically our peers.
We hit it off and chattered away in groups.
Serena sat next to Derek, her cheeks flushed — whether from the cold or something else, it was hard to tell.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. "What do you guys normally do? You drive the tracked vehicle so well!"
Derek smiled. "A lot of things. Geological surveys, upper atmospheric physics, weather monitoring. Sometimes we do mapping, observe marine life..."
Serena scooted closer to him, her lip gloss catching the light.
"What else is there besides fin whales? What do you think that unknown biological sample could be?"
I rolled my eyes.
Serena was at it again. It wasn't that she actually wanted to flirt — she just couldn't help herself around good-looking men.
Derek shifted back slightly, looking a bit awkward. "Lots of things. Besides fin whales, you might see minke whales, Arnoux's beaked whales. Sometimes you can even spot orcas hunting seals..."
"As for the unknown organism," he said with a troubled frown, "I'm not sure either. That lake has been sealed under ice for so long. It might be some kind of prehistoric creature."
Serena wasn't really listening. She just stared at Derek's face and nodded along.
"Hey!" Marcus leaned in. "Maybe it's a sea monster, like the Loch Ness Monster!"
He sat down next to us and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Did you guys know there's an entrance to an underground world beneath Antarctica?"
...
It was the kind of crackpot urban legend you'd read in a cheap paperback about the Bermuda Triangle.
When nobody believed him, Marcus got defensive. "There's a pyramid in Antarctica! A real pyramid! Haven't you seen it?
"I read that a New Zealand journalist photographed an Antarctic pyramid, with a radar station and antennas nearby! It's supposedly some kind of American research base, all classified — 'TOP SECRET AREA'!
"They say it's another Area 51, connected to the underground world. American technology came from underground people, that's why it's so advanced!"
Three black lines appeared on Derek's face.
Kevin, holding a thermos, sat down and said with a smile, "I know, I know. Lizard people live down there. They use the Cosmic Cube to control the world. Every full moon they send a signal to Planet Cyber, inviting the Transformers to discuss conquering Earth."
Marcus blinked, then scowled.
"None of you believe me. Just wait — when I find the underground people, I'll be collecting the Nobel Prize in Biology, and you'll all be watching from your TVs, green with envy."
Derek laughed despite himself. "I don't know about underground people, but Antarctica indeed does have some giant creatures. Like giant sea spiders — they're barely a centimeter everywhere else, but down here they can grow to over thirty centimeters."
He held his hands apart to show the size.
Serena gasped. "Spiders that big? That's horrifying!"
"And Antarctic giant squid are huge too, twice the size of ones in other waters. The myth of the Kraken might have originated from them."
I was curious. "Why is everything in Antarctica so big?"
Before Derek could respond, Kevin chimed in. "Probably because there are fewer predators down here."
Derek nodded. "Right, and the seawater here has high oxygen levels. During the age of dinosaurs, the atmosphere had much more oxygen. Higher oxygen means larger body sizes.
"Lake Trib also has very high oxygen levels — there must be something truly enormous in there.
"And with no predators in the lake, who knows how big something could grow?"
We kept talking, the conversation growing wilder and more imaginative.
Professor Marshall sat apart from us, not talking, quietly smoking.
His smoking had gotten worse. It used to be a pack a day — now it was at least two. His lungs must have been pitch black by now.
One of the researchers, noticing him sitting alone, probably figured the older man didn't have much in common with us young folks. He went over with a smile. "Professor, your family must really support you, coming all this way alone. You're in great shape — no wonder they're not worried."
Professor Marshall squinted through a thick plume of smoke.
"I don't have any family."
We all went quiet, looking over at him with concern.
We knew Professor Marshall didn't have a wife or children. We were afraid we'd touched a raw nerve.
He didn't seem bothered, though. He flicked his ash. "My wife passed away years ago. I never remarried.
"She didn't leave me any children either. I'm alone — no attachments, no burdens.
"Maybe after this trip I'll find someone to spend time with. Being alone is a bit dull. I've had enough of this life."
He took a sip of hot water.
We relaxed and started teasing him. "A late-life romance, Professor? Very trendy!"
He smiled but didn't say anything, crushing his cigarette butt casually.
---
That night, I'd had a little too much. I tossed and turned in bed before finally giving up and going to the bathroom.
The moment I opened the door, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
In the dim light, a figure was standing right outside.
I stumbled backward, heart pounding, and looked more closely. It was Kevin, his pale face inches from my door.
I clutched my racing heart and snapped. "Kevin, what are you doing? You scared me half to death!"
Kevin gave a thin smile. "I was going to the bathroom and passed by. Sorry I scared you, Chloe."
"Fine. I'll come with you — I'm a little scared too."
Kevin nodded.
We walked to the bathroom together. He didn't say a word the whole way.
The surroundings were dead silent. Nothing but the sound of our footsteps.
I felt awkward and tried to make conversation. "Kevin, what do you think is really down in that ice lake?
"A whale? A megalodon? A mosasaur?"
I made myself laugh. "If we find a mosasaur, we'll be famous. Set for life."
Kevin's voice came back soft, barely audible.
"What if there are... people?"
I grinned. "Underground people? Transformers or Saiyans?"
Kevin gave a quiet laugh.
"Chloe, did you know that in 1997, a British-American expedition detected an extremely high-frequency sound wave in the deep waters near here?
"The frequency didn't match any known biological sound.
"Based on the wavelength and duration, they estimated the creature producing it could be... over a hundred meters long."
My eyes went wide. "A hundred meters?"
Blue whales, the largest animals ever to exist on Earth, were only twenty or thirty meters. A hundred meters would be several blue whales put together. What kind of monster would that be?
A chill crept over me, the cold at my back spreading, raising goosebumps all over.
"You're kidding, right?"
Kevin didn't answer. After a pause he said, "Maybe. We're here. I'll go in first, Chloe."
I looked up and realized we'd reached the bathroom. I'd almost followed Kevin into the men's room.
In the absolute silence, the cold was so intense it felt like walking into a freezer. Shivering, I rushed inside, did what I needed to do, and hurried out.
Kevin wasn't waiting by the door. Maybe he was still inside, or maybe he'd already left.
---
It was so cold my toes ached. I hurried back toward my room.
The corridor was utterly silent.
The faster I walked, the more afraid I became. There was no one else around, and the feeling that something monstrous lurked behind me, following my every step, was overwhelming.
Bang!
I slammed my bedroom door shut.
Sunlight filled the room. With my back pressed against the wall, I felt the cold surface behind me.
Cold sweat covered my body.
In this unknown land, we were nothing but insignificant visitors.
What kind of terrifying creature was lurking in the ice lake thousands of meters below?
That night, I slept fitfully.
Even with the curtains drawn, it was too bright. The cold, pale light pierced my eyelids, making real sleep impossible.
In that hazy state between waking and dreaming, I felt my whole body turn icy, as if I were submerged in freezing seawater. A suffocating sensation gripped me — I could barely breathe.
My eyes snapped open. I found myself in utter darkness, without a speck of light.
I looked around in confusion and saw a faint glow in the distance.
I hurried toward it. The small light illuminated a patch of seafloor. Pale white krill crawled across black silt, deformed eyes clustered on their bodies like grapes.
I felt a wave of revulsion and stepped back — and bumped into something soft behind me.
I turned around.
A rotting human face. Empty eye sockets stared back at me, pale flesh tendril swaying in the water current.
I jolted awake!
Bright light surrounded me. Outside, only the howling wind could be heard.
My blankets were ice-cold, as if they might freeze solid.
I exhaled a long breath and collapsed back onto the bed.
It was just a dream.
My heart was still racing with that bone-deep terror, and I could barely breathe.
I lay perfectly still, afraid that if I moved, something terrible would appear beside the bed.
After what felt like an eternity, my heartbeat finally slowed. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and rolled over, hoping to fall back asleep.
Just as I closed my eyes, my phone buzzed and lit up.
I picked it up — a WeChat message.
Strange. Antarctica had no cell towers. Our phones should have had no signal.
Curious, I opened it. It was from my mom.
She'd sent a voice message with an unread marker.
I pressed play, and her tearful voice echoed in the cold, narrow room.
"Qingqing, I dreamed you were in the water, crying and calling for Mom."
---
At subzero temperatures, water freezes solid in an instant.
But the cold in my heart felt worse than any Antarctic freeze.
I deleted the message with trembling hands, trying to convince myself it was just a coincidence.
Maybe it was sunspots, solar flares — something messing with the signal. I was a rational person. I wasn't afraid.
I came up with a hundred explanations, but I couldn't fall back asleep that night.
The next morning I came out with dark circles under my eyes. Marcus exclaimed, "What happened, Chloe? Didn't sleep because of the cold?"
He was already a big guy, built like a bear. Dressed in his light-colored padded wind suit with his head and face wrapped up tight, he looked like a polar bear himself.
His clownish appearance actually made me smile a little. "I'm fine. Probably just not used to the place yet."
Marcus climbed onto the tracked vehicle, his big white teeth gleaming brighter than the ice.
"Come on! Hop on my ride — I'll take you for a spin!"
Serena was nearby, taking selfies. After a few unsuccessful shots, she shivered and reapplied her lip gloss.
She even pulled out a tiny comb and slid it under her hat to fix her bangs.
Suddenly, her phone screen went black. She pressed button after button with no response, then furiously threw it to the ground. "This piece of junk! It said it works for a full day at minus thirty — false advertising!"
Derek frowned. "We can't leave anything behind here. Pick it up."
Serena pouted but retrieved her phone and stuffed it in her pocket.
I sat down behind Marcus. He glanced over. "What's the Professor staring at?"
Following his gaze, I saw Professor Marshall standing on the ice, smoking. A thick plume of white — smoke or condensation — hung in front of him.
He gazed into the distance, motionless, like a frozen sculpture.
After a long moment, he pinched out his cigarette and tucked the butt into his pocket before climbing into the vehicle.
Marcus said enviously, "Man, doesn't that burn his fingers? I wish I could do that. If I could, I'd be picking up girls left and right."
I rolled my eyes. Always going on about girls. Plenty of girls liked him, but in the three years I'd known him, Marcus had never once dated anyone. He just tagged along with us junior students everywhere.
An absolute talker, zero action.
"Stay close! Watch out for cracks in the ice!" Derek called from the lead vehicle.
The expedition team followed behind him. The vehicles moved slowly. Between the ice layers were cracks — if someone fell in, they'd freeze solid within minutes, even if you pulled them out.
On this endless expanse of ice, a single misstep meant certain death.
So we moved carefully, staying close to Derek's tracks.
The white landscape reflected blinding sunlight. Without goggles, your eyes would start watering in half an hour, and you could even go temporarily blind.
But with dark glasses on, the pure white ice took on a shadowy, ominous quality.
The cloud from last night still hung over me. I felt heavy, weighed down.
Marcus, on the other hand, was in high spirits. He hollered from the vehicle: "Ahhhh! Antarctica! Here I come!"
His enthusiasm was infectious. Gradually, the rest of us perked up too.
"What's that?"
Derek's vehicle came to a sudden stop. In front of it, a white, squirming lump lay on the ice.
The expedition members grew curious and got out to look.
Up close, it was a white, round ball of fur, wiggling nervously on the ground.
Sensing the crowd, it looked up at us with wide, wet eyes, tiny nose twitching, making a soft "awmp" sound.
"Oh my god! A baby seal!" Serena trotted over excitedly, reaching out to touch it.
"Don't—" Derek blocked her hand. "If it gets human scent on it, the mother will abandon it. Just look."
Serena pouted. She pulled out her phone, realized it was still dead, and squatted down to just stare at it.
It was my first time seeing a baby seal in person. It really did look like an earless Samoyed puppy — ridiculously cute. I couldn't stop looking at it.
Marcus was filming with his phone, whispering, "So cute! It's melting my heart!"
I grabbed his arm. "Let me see, let me see!"
Marcus pulled away and smirked. "Nope. I'll send it to you when we get back."
"Stingy." I shot him a glare.
Derek said, "The mother seal probably went hunting. There are no polar bears here, so the pup should be safe."
A researcher reached out to play with the pup, which wriggled and tried to nip at his fingers. Everyone laughed and played with it.
The baby seal was a small bright spot in our expedition. Our spirits lifted, and we started chatting and joking again.
"Professor," Marcus asked, "what's really in that ice lake? I heard Antarctica has giant sea centipedes as big as chickens."
Professor Marshall lifted his eyelids. "That's right. Antarctic giant scale worms can weigh about as much as a small chicken.
"But whether there are any in the lake, I don't know."
"Ugh, that big? So gross!" Serena wrinkled her nose. "Why does Antarctica have bugs?"
"The further south you go, the bigger the bugs," Marcus said. "You know how cockroaches in the south are this big?" He held his hands apart. "If there were Antarctic cockroaches, they'd be the size of a dog. You could ride one to work."
"There are no cockroaches in Antarctica, you idiot!" Serena rolled her eyes.
I had a sudden thought. "If there are shrimp in the lake, wouldn't they be huge too?"
"Right," Derek said with a smile. "Antarctic gammarid shrimp can grow to over thirty centimeters. If there are shrimp in the lake, with the oxygen levels down there, they could easily grow to a meter long."
A researcher shouted, "Big shrimp — too big for one pot!"
...
We spent the journey bantering and joking until we finally reached Lake Trib.
Lake Trib wasn't as famous as the larger Lake Vostok, which was discovered first.
It was a relatively small lake, but deep, with a network of interconnected caverns beneath it.
---
So far, the water samples collected here had yielded the greatest variety of biological genes.
Lake Trib was a subglacial lake — from the surface, it looked like a flat ice plain. But three thousand meters below, there was a lake that even exhibited tidal patterns.
It had been drilled through only a few years later than Lake Vostok, but the drilling was far more difficult. They'd only broken through last year.
We collected some ice and snow samples nearby, and the staff gave us freshly drawn lake water samples.
"Let me see!"
Marcus excitedly leaned over the insulated case to look at the test tubes inside, then looked disappointed. "It's just regular water. Nothing special."
"Obviously. What else would it be — soda?"
I urged him. "Hold it steady. We need to collect samples from other spots too."
Professor Marshall crushed out his cigarette and got in the vehicle without a word.
Since coming here, he'd changed. He used to joke around and complain with us, but in Antarctica he just smoked constantly and said nothing, staring into the distance every day.
Must be hard — the pressure of funding and research.
He was nearly sixty, all alone. No family. Just him against the world.
At his age, still groveling for research grants every day. It couldn't be easy.
On the way back, nobody chattered like before. It was just too cold.
Minus who-knows-how-many degrees. No matter how many layers you wore, the cold seeped into your bones, making your body stiff and your extremities ache.
We trudged back in silence until Serena suddenly screamed.
"What is it?!"
I jerked my head up. In the distance, a line of small black dots moved slowly across the glacier like a string of walking ellipses.
Derek turned to look. "Penguins. Based on their size, Adelie penguins."
The researchers were used to penguins, but we students had never seen them in person. Marcus and Serena both begged, "Take us to see them!"
I was tempted too, watching Derek hopefully.
Only Kevin sat in the corner, saying nothing.
He seemed uninterested in everything about Antarctica, unlike the rest of us who were like country bumpkins in the city, fascinated by everything.
Derek hesitated, then sighed. "Alright, just for a moment. We can't deviate from the route."
He turned the vehicle around first, and we followed.
Everyone's spirits lifted, exhaustion fading away.
Up close, Adelie penguins were adorable. They waddled when they walked, looking utterly ridiculous.
They weren't very afraid of humans either, curiously eyeing us from all angles. Some bold ones even waddled over for a closer look.
"What's up?" Marcus waved at one. "Need to top up your QQ coins?"
The penguin stared at him with beady black eyes.
Derek narrated as we watched: "Adelie penguins are small, only about seventy centimeters when fully grown.
"We might see emperor penguins in the next few days. Those are bigger, over a meter tall."
I compared heights — some of the penguins barely reached my knees. Very mini.
A curious little penguin waddled toward Serena, seemingly attracted by her brightly colored jacket.
Serena looked a little smug. She glanced at Derek, and when he didn't object, she patted the penguin.
"It's so cute!"
She called to Marcus, "Take a picture of me!"
Marcus pointed the camera at her and waved. "Closer, closer. The angle's not good."
Serena leaned in, then quickly jerked back, frowning. "It smells like fish. Did it just eat?"
She endured the smell, puckering her lips playfully. "Hurry up! Make it look good — I want to post it when I get back!"
The penguin saw her bright red lips and suddenly opened its beak wide.
"Ah—" Serena scrambled backward on the ground, pushing herself away in terror. "Its mouth is so scary! It's full of spikes!"
I couldn't help laughing at her reaction. I patted Marcus. "Quick, take more pictures — I want to post these when I get back!"
Marcus snapped away. "Great shots! Really dramatic!"
Serena scrambled to her feet, glaring at both of us, then dusted herself off.
She seemed embarrassed, so she turned away from the penguins and got back in the vehicle.
We circled the penguins for about half an hour.
"Let's go," Derek said, then looked at the sky and frowned. "The weather's turning."
---
When we set out, the sky had been clear and the horizon vast.
But on the way back, the wind picked up.
White snow swept toward us. The entire world howled with wind and ice crystals, a wall of white that made it almost impossible to see the path ahead.
Derek's voice came through the storm, faint but urgent: "Stay close! It's a blizzard!"
The freezing wind cut like knives, stinging every exposed inch of skin. I hid my face against Marcus's back.
The tracked vehicle groaned in the gale. We could barely steer, so we got out and walked.
Ahead was nothing but white. We walked mechanically until Professor Marshall's shout came through: "Shelter... over here..."
Marcus grabbed my arm and we pushed through the blizzard toward his voice, finding a large ice slope that offered some shelter from the wind.
Out of the worst of it, I could finally breathe again.
Professor Marshall looked around, brushing ice from his face, his expression dark. "This is bad."
I looked around and realized — beyond our little group, there was nothing but white. The expedition team was nowhere in sight.
All I could hear was wind.
We'd been separated from the expedition team. Down here under the ice slope, there were only Professor Marshall, Marcus, Serena, and me.
Kevin was gone too.
A wave of panic surged through me.
We were lost.
The wind screamed, whipping ice crystals into every exposed inch of skin. I buried my face deeper into my scarf and crouched behind Marcus for cover.
He was big enough to block the wind.
We waited under the ice slope for two hours before the storm slowly died down.
When the world settled, we stood up and looked around. Everyone's face fell.
Nothing but an endless expanse of white in every direction.
No tracked vehicles. No expedition team. No sign of anyone else.
We stared at each other, not knowing what to do.
We'd set out perfectly fine — who could have imagined this?
In this frozen wasteland, if we really couldn't find our way back, wouldn't we just freeze to death?
Panic gripped us all. Serena opened her mouth, but no words came out.
...
We all looked at Professor Marshall, waiting for him to decide.
His hands shook as he pulled out a cigarette and tried to light it. It took him several attempts before the flame caught.
He took a deep drag and said, "I remember the coordinates of the research station. Follow me."
We all breathed a sigh of relief.
Thank god — experience counts for something, after all.
"But what about Kevin?" I asked, frowning.
Kevin had gotten separated from us. In this extreme cold, alone, he was as good as dead.
Professor Marshall thought for a moment. "Let's search the area first. If we can't find him, we'll go back to the station and send a rescue team."
We fanned out across the endless white, calling: "Kevin! Kevin!"
"Kevin—"
We searched for nearly an hour and found nothing.
The expedition team, Kevin — it was as if they'd simply vanished.
With no other choice, we followed Professor Marshall back toward the station, planning to send for help once we got there.
Professor Marshall was old, and after a full day of trekking, every step left him gasping.
We didn't want to rush him, so we followed at his pace.
The Antarctic ice plain was normally firm from years of wind and sun, making it relatively easy to walk on.
But after the blizzard, a thick layer of fresh snow covered everything. Every step was a struggle. My boots were cold and damp inside, and each step sent shooting pain through my toes.
We trudged along behind Professor Marshall like a line of penguins.
The tracked vehicles had been fast — it had taken us only a few dozen minutes to get from the station to Lake Trib.
But walking back took hours, and still no sign of the research station.
An ominous thought crept into everyone's mind, and our expressions grew darker and darker.
---
Marcus nudged me and whispered, "Did the Professor lead us wrong? Shit, are we lost?"
My heart was racing too, but I tried to reassure both of us. "No, we must be close by now."
"My feet are killing me," Serena complained. "When are we going to get there?"
Professor Marshall didn't seem to hear her. He walked on in silence, quickening his pace.
At this rate, we'd all freeze to death in the subzero cold.
Marcus and I exchanged helpless looks — anxious, scared, with no idea what to do.
After another twenty minutes of determined walking, we finally spotted a massive dark shape on the distant sea. It looked like a ship.
My heart leapt. We hadn't found the research station, but at least we'd found the icebreaker.
The ship would have crew and supplies. We could rest aboard and send Derek to fetch us tomorrow.
Serena perked up too, quickening her pace despite her earlier exhaustion.
Only Professor Marshall walked on in silence.
True to form — the old man knew the way, after all.
We hadn't found the station, but we'd found the ship. Whether by luck or by Professor Marshall's memory, here we were.
Though something seemed off. The ship looked... smaller than I remembered.
And I could have sworn... our ship was red.
A few more minutes brought us right up to the vessel.
Icebergs floated in the water around it like monstrous shapes, and the black ship sat silently on the sea.
We all stopped and stared.
The hull was covered in thick ice and rust. Faded paint revealed several large characters on the side.
Expedition Ship 1740.
This wasn't our ship.
...
Marcus stammered, "Expedition Ship 1740? That's not our ship..."
Everyone's heart sank.
This wasn't about whether it was our ship or not. The problem was that this ship didn't look like it had been here recently.
The thick ice covering the hull had a dull sheen under the harsh sun. Ice that thick couldn't have formed in a day, a month, or even a year.
All four of us fell silent, turning to Professor Marshall.
At this point, the oldest among us had become our anchor.
Professor Marshall's body trembled slightly — whether from the cold or something else. He kept his head down, his expression unreadable.
After a long moment, he lit a cigarette with shaking hands and said in a low voice, "Let's get on board."
I looked up at the 1740. In the freezing wind, it sat silently on the ice, like a ghost ship sealed away for who knows how long.
Why was this ship frozen here?
How old was it?
Where were the people?
Had they been rescued, or...
A heavy, oppressive dread settled over me.
Serena, usually so loud, sidled behind Marcus, eyeing the ship with visible fear.
I heard her whisper, "Marcus, are we... are we really going on board?"
Professor Marshall didn't give us time to hesitate. He walked around the hull and said gruffly, "The gangway's over here."
He climbed up, struggling with each icy step. Marcus followed close behind, terrified the old man might slip.
I exchanged a look with Serena and followed carefully.
The interior was pitch dark, cold as an ice cellar.
The deck creaked and groaned under our feet, the wood stiff from years of freezing temperatures.
The air was stale, thick with dust.
We moved through the corridors in a tight group, flashlights in hand, searching for anything — a radio, a signal device, anything that could help.
But the cabins held nothing but frozen coils of rope and rusted old equipment.
Then Marcus let out a shout ahead. "Holy shit — canned food! I found canned food!"
Serena and I rushed over. We hadn't eaten since morning, and my stomach was gnawing at itself. Just hearing "canned food" made my mouth water.
"What kind? Beef? Sardines?"
Serena darted forward. "Let me see!"
Marcus held up a dark can, reading under the flashlight. "Donkey meat. Made in Nanchang. Production date..."
Serena and I both felt our hearts sink.
How long was canned food good for?
Was this even edible?
Marcus's face darkened as he read out each digit: "March 23rd, 1998."
The air went dead silent. The entire cabin was quiet, not even the sound of wind, just our heartbeats.
After a long pause, Serena's trembling voice echoed through the empty space. "This is... twenty-year-old canned food?
"This ship has been frozen here for twenty years?"
She'd voiced the question pressing on all our minds:
"Then where did all the people go?"
A twenty-year-old research ship, perfectly preserved in the Antarctic ice.
But there was still food aboard, which meant the crew hadn't starved to death.
Marcus and I both hoped they'd been rescued, which was why the supplies were left behind.
But we all knew there was another possibility.
They might have died here for some other reason, which was why the food was left uneaten.
Marcus turned to ask Professor Marshall about the ship, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out.
Serena and I looked over, our faces going pale.
The cabin was empty. Professor Marshall, who'd just been smoking right there, was gone.
In that suffocating silence, the three of us stared at each other, a cold dread creeping through our bodies. No one spoke.
Finally, Marcus broke the silence, his voice wavering slightly: "He probably went outside for a smoke. Let's search the ship first. At least we can shelter here tonight, and tomorrow we'll figure out how to contact the station."
Marcus might joke around normally, but when it counted, he was reliable.
With Professor Marshall gone, Serena and I instinctively leaned on Marcus. We both nodded.
I searched the cabins nervously, bracing myself before every corner, afraid of what I might find.
What I dreaded most was stumbling across a frozen corpse.
But surprisingly, though the cabins were messy, there were no bodies.
We wiped cold sweat from our foreheads, a wave of relief washing over us. It seemed the crew really had been evacuated, leaving the ship behind.
Just then, Professor Marshall walked back into the cabin, asking if we'd found anything useful.
He smelled strongly of cigarette smoke — he must have gone outside to smoke. The cabin was too dusty, and he probably didn't want to risk a fire.
The ship's supplies were mostly intact, as if the crew had vanished suddenly. But after so many years, almost nothing was still usable.
The old blankets we found were frozen stiff as iron, thickly crusted with ice crystals.
Marcus looked grim. Spending the night in sub-zero temperatures without proper insulation was suicide.
We'd fall asleep and wake up as four ice sculptures.
We couldn't just sit here and die. I grabbed my flashlight and stood up. "I'll check the rooms. Maybe there's something we can use."
Now that I knew there were no dead bodies on board, I wasn't as scared. I went down the corridor with my flashlight.
The rooms were even colder than the main cabin. With no air circulation, they had a suffocating smell of dust and soot.
I covered my nose and rummaged around.
This room had nothing but a frozen-stiff blanket on the bed.
The clothes had probably been worn by whoever was here. The closet held only a thick layer of dust.
I wasn't ready to give up, so I moved to the next room.
The ship wasn't large, and the rooms were tiny — only a few square meters each.
Under the blazing beam of my outdoor flashlight, even the dust particles in the air were visible.
To my surprise, there was a windbreaker jacket piled on the bed.
I hurried over and picked it up, but my hope faded — it was frozen solid too.
I frowned as I felt it, but tucked it under my arm anyway. Maybe it would be useful.
Just as I stepped out the door, something behind me hit the floor with a soft thud.
---
I looked down. Something black had fallen out of the windbreaker and was lying quietly on the floor.
I shone my flashlight on it — it looked like a notebook.
I picked it up. It was a leather-bound journal, its surface crusted with frost, the pages yellowed and brittle.
---
It seemed to be a diary, probably belonging to a crew member of this expedition.
The handwriting was bold and flowing — probably a man's hand.
Curious, I sat on the bed and started flipping through the pages.
The early entries were about ordinary life and preparations for the journey.
I skipped ahead until I found entries about the Antarctic voyage.
"November 18
We've finally arrived in Antarctica.
This place is as beautiful as I imagined — vast and boundless.
Tomorrow we set out to investigate. I'm excited and nervous!
What exactly is producing that sound wave? I hope we can find out."
"November 19
Antarctica is moving into summer. We've seen many animals — walruses, emperor penguins, even orcas hunting seals. Too bad I couldn't film it!
I wanted to bring this footage back for Kangkang.
No unusual sound waves detected today. Everyone's a little disappointed.
But we collected seawater samples. Hope we can find answers."
"November 20
Preliminary testing of the seawater samples showed nothing unusual.
That's strange — we definitely detected those sound waves. Why can't we find the source? Tomorrow we'll send a camera down to take a look."
"November 21
The sound appeared again, but this time not from the ocean. It came from a hole beneath the ice nearby. We keep searching but can't locate it. Damn it, where is this thing?"
"November 22
We searched three holes under the ice today and came up empty. We'll try again tomorrow.
This godforsaken place is so cold. I don't know how much longer I can stand it!"
"November 23
I miss Nini and Kangkang. Don't know when I'll see them again.
We did a full scan of the ice layer nearby and finally pinpointed the sound. This time the frequency was even stronger. A-Cheng says this creature could be over a hundred meters long.
Sylvia thinks we should go back. It's too big, too dangerous — beyond what we can handle.
But we all want to see for ourselves. If we discover some kind of prehistoric creature, we'll be famous! We'll go tomorrow — just a look, then we'll leave!"
My heart raced as I read. The thing in the diary might be the same creature in the Lake Trib samples. Over a hundred meters — what could possibly be that large?
I couldn't turn the pages fast enough.
The next entry changed. The handwriting was frantic, scrawled. The writer hadn't even dated it.
The strokes were shaky, as if written with trembling hands.
I peered closely at the words.
"What the hell is this thing?!"
That was all it said. The rest of the page was obscured by a dark stain that had bled through the paper, making it impossible to read.
How frustrating — this guy was writing like a TV cliffhanger.
Just tell us what it was!
My curiosity was killing me. I pocketed the journal and went to check the other rooms for more clues.
When I opened the next door, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
This room had someone in the bed.
A long, still shape lay under the covers.
Hearing the door, it paused, then slowly turned over.
I was so terrified I couldn't even scream. My whole body locked up. I couldn't run, couldn't move.
Just as I was about to pass out from fear, Kevin's voice cut through.
It was colder than the Antarctic chill outside.
"Chloe?"
I focused. The person in the bed was Kevin, zipped inside a sleeping bag.
He looked at me in confusion, reaching down to unzip the bag.
"Chloe, how are you here?"
My knees gave out. I nearly collapsed.
Cold sweat dripped from my forehead and froze instantly. My voice shook with residual terror and annoyance. "What the hell, Kevin! You scared me half to death!"
In two days in Antarctica, Kevin had scared me twice. Keep this up and I'd have a heart attack.
Kevin looked apologetic. "I got separated from you guys and didn't know which way to go. Then I stumbled onto this ship and came inside to get out of the wind.
"It's just you? Where are the Professor, Marcus, and Serena?"
I clutched my pounding chest. "They're in the main cabin. I came to look for supplies."
Kevin sat up. "There's not much here. I found some sleeping bags — this one has an inner liner, it's barely usable. They're in that cabinet. I'll bring them for you."
I nodded, and once my heartbeat settled, I felt a rush of relief.
We'd all been so worried about Kevin, terrified he'd freeze to death alone. But he'd found the ship before any of us.
I called out cheerfully, "Marcus! Serena! Look who I found!"
No one answered.
When I went downstairs, I found Marcus standing in the main cabin, staring blankly at a piece of paper.
"What are you doing?" I asked as I came down. "Look who I found — Kevin! He was already on the ship. I opened a door and saw him in bed — nearly gave me a heart attack!"
Marcus's head snapped up at my voice.
In the dark, I didn't see the flash of fear in his eyes.
"Really? That's great. Chloe, come with me for a second."
"What now?" I grumbled.
Something was off about Marcus. Normally he'd have thrown himself at Kevin by now. Out of all of us, he was the most energetic, always laughing and joking.
But now he was serious, pulling me toward the front of the ship with a firm grip.
Kevin didn't say a word behind me.
"What's wrong?" I pulled my hand free. "Did you not see Kevin?"
Marcus's face was ashen. He stared at me for a long time without speaking.
Finally, he looked me dead in the eye and said in a trembling voice.
"Chloe, do you believe that two people can look exactly alike?"
I didn't understand. "Twins?"
Marcus swallowed hard. "What if they're twenty years apart?"
I started to feel uneasy. "What are you talking about?"
Marcus didn't answer. He pulled out a photograph and handed it to me.
"I found this wedged in a crack in the control room."
I took the photo. It was black and white, yellowed with age, carrying the heavy weight of years.
Written in the corner in pen: "Expedition 376, September 18, 1998."
Based on the diary, that was right around when the ship had set out.
In the photo, several young people huddled together, smiling at the camera.
Youth and fearlessness radiated from their faces. On the far left, a girl in a white shirt had her sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
She had what looked like a large birthmark on her face, but her smile was brighter than spring sunshine.
These were bold young men and women, full of life and courage.
Then my pupils shrank.
On the left, the second person in the photo...
I almost couldn't believe my eyes.
My hand trembled as I held the photo.
The person in the photo looked exactly like Kevin.
Same pale face, same slight build, same quiet expression.
It could have been Kevin himself.
But the photo was dated 1998.
Twenty years ago.
No — they couldn't be twins. Even twins wouldn't be born twenty years apart.
And Kevin had said his uncle was on an Antarctic expedition, that he'd disappeared when Kevin was five and never came back.
He'd said his uncle's name was Zhang Lun.
---
Marcus and I stared at each other in the dark cabin. There was only one conclusion, but neither of us wanted to say it out loud.
The second person on the left of that photo... looked exactly like Kevin.
After a long time, Marcus finally spoke, his voice dry. "This is his uncle? You believe that?"
I couldn't answer.
Marcus ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I've known Kevin for two years. He's a bit weird, but he's always been normal.
"But twenty years... No, even if they're uncle and nephew, relatives can look alike. There's got to be a reasonable explanation, right?"
I didn't know what to say. My chest felt tight with an unnameable dread.
"Let's ask him," I said. "He's on the ship. Let's go ask him about this photo."
We found Kevin in the main cabin. He'd already distributed the sleeping bags, and he was sitting by himself, holding a thermos cup and staring at nothing, as usual.
"Kevin," Marcus called out, trying to sound casual. "We found something interesting. Want to take a look?"
Kevin looked up with his usual faint smile. "What is it?"
Marcus tossed the photo over. "Check out the second person on the left."
Kevin picked up the photo and studied it. His expression didn't change, but his fingers orked slightly on the edge of the picture.
"It's my uncle," he said quietly. "Zhang Lun. He was in the 376 expedition. He went to Antarctica and never came back."
Marcus and I exchanged glances. Marcus pressed, "Your uncle? He looks exactly like you."
Kevin smiled. "We're related, after all. My mom always said I take after his side of the family."
He flipped the photo over. On the back, a row of names was written in faded ink. The second name from the left was smudged but barely legible: Zhang Lun.
"See? My uncle's name was Zhang Lun." Kevin's finger moved to the face. "And here, look — he has a mole on his left cheek."
I leaned in to look. Sure enough, there was a small dark spot on the left cheek of the man in the photo.
Kevin smiled and tilted his head. "My uncle went missing in Antarctica. My grandma searched for years but never found out what happened. When I heard Professor Marshall was planning an expedition here, I had to come."
His words made sense, but the eerie resemblance in the photo still unsettled me.
Still, family members looking alike wasn't unheard of. I forced myself to put it out of my mind.
That night, huddled together for warmth, I couldn't sleep. The photo and Kevin's story kept running through my head.
Uncle or not, the coincidence was unsettling.
Professor Marshall had lain down too. In the darkness, all I could hear was breathing.
I drifted into a fitful, freezing sleep.