But then, out of nowhere, Michael’s boot slipped and released a chunk of ice that danced precariously down the slope. The sound of tapping against the icy surface echoed sharply, serving as a chilling reminder of the deep void that yearned for a slip, a stumble – anything to pull him into its icy grip. His heart made a leap of fear as he imagined how he would fall into the icy darkness.
Still, he held his ground, his breath halted in the cold air. “Holy shit,” he gasped, “that was close.” After making sure he had regained his balance, he walked on, driven by a mix of fear and curiosity. The top of the iceberg, hidden in the fog, seemed to be calling to him, promising to reveal secrets. Peter felt that it wanted to show him something, and he needed to find out what it was….