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The silence was dense, pressing against his chest as though he were at the bottom of a bottomless sea. No sound but his ragged breath-or perhaps it wasn't breath at all, just an illusion of breathing.
"Am I the only one here?"
The question echoed within him, not as a real voice, but as a resonance in a mind not yet certain it had a body.
The place was dark... no, not dark-completely devoid of light. No dot, no glimmer, not even a shadow.
He tried to move his finger, his hands, his legs... nothing.
"Am I imprisoned?"
Maybe-but why? And why couldn't he remember? No name, no features, no previous moment.
He raised his neck slightly. Yes, he could move it, though slowly.
"That means I'm standing... there's something solid behind me. A wall? A pillar? I don't know."
But he felt nothing else.
"A long time has passed... or maybe just a moment, I don't know."
He tried to scream-but didn't.
A sound moved near him, faint, creeping, alive.
"I'm not alone then?"
But he said nothing. He didn't want to risk it.
The sound drew closer, then stopped, as if someone had sat facing him.
"Can you see me?"
But wait... how can he see me if the place is pitch black?
And... how do I assume I can see, if I don't even have eyes? Do I have eyes?
A thought seeped into his mind like a black bead spinning in a vortex:
What if I'm not even human?
He tested moving his neck again.
It was long. Longer than it should be. This is unnatural... or maybe I'm hallucinating... no, I don't think so.
He fell silent again. There was something in the darkness... something else... waiting.
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The wind howled from every direction, lashing at their faces like needles, and snow fell relentlessly upon their heavy coats that barely held back the cold.
Milo stopped suddenly, turned to his older brother, and murmured through chattering teeth:
"It's freezing... do you have any matches, Lucan?"
Lucan glanced at his hand, then muttered coldly without lifting his eyes:
"I don't think so... and I doubt we'll need them."
Milo raised his eyebrows in frustration, his tone tinged with reproach:
"Man, I told you to bring them before we left! I said it would be freezing-and I was right!"
Lucan chuckled quietly, continuing to walk over the packed snow:
"Don't be dramatic... it's only minus 180."
Milo stopped in his tracks, staring at his brother in shock:
"What? Minus 180? Are you kidding me? It was minus 150 when we left! How did it drop that much?"
Without turning, Lucan replied sarcastically:
"You idiot, did you forget we're climbing a mountain? Of course it dropped... and it might drop even further."
Milo was silent for a moment, then said as he followed in his brother's footsteps:
"By the way... why are we here?"
Lucan stopped suddenly, turning to him slowly:
"What?! You don't remember?"
Milo lowered his head slightly, whispering as if speaking to himself:
"Did I forget something?"
Lucan slapped his forehead in exasperation:
"You forgot the most important thing-our goal in climbing the mountain, you moron."
Milo smiled innocently and shrugged:
"What do you want me to do? I'm forgetful."
Lucan sighed, then spoke with a spark of excitement finally showing:
"Okay, our main goal is to find something... we don't know what it's called, but we know from Johan's description that it exists somewhere on this mountain. As for its exact location-I know exactly where to find it. I drew a map on my hand when we were in his office. Hahaha, he didn't even see me do it-the fool Johan. We're very close now, Milo."
Milo looked up toward the heights, where only fog and snow could be seen:
"Are you sure we'll find it?"
Lucan, without turning, replied with his usual firmness:
"What do you think, Milo? You think I'd go back to our parents empty-handed?"
Milo hesitated, then said in a low voice:
"No... but do you really think it will help cure him?"
Lucan exhaled slowly, as if pushing out his doubts:
"Let's hope so."
After a long silence, as they climbed slowly through the blizzard that seemed intent on pushing them back, Lucan glanced at his younger brother. Milo's face showed clear exhaustion, but what caught Lucan's attention more was the uncertain look in his eyes.
Lucan spoke in a semi-sarcastic tone, raising an eyebrow at his brother's puzzled expression:
"Why are you looking at me like that? Got something to say?"
Milo hesitated, clearly nervous, then spoke softly:
"I'll say it... but don't laugh, okay?"
Lucan sighed with barely-contained patience:
"Speak."
Milo took a deep breath, as if gathering courage, then said shyly:
"Where are we?"
Lucan stopped walking for several seconds, staring at his brother in silence before raising his eyebrows in disbelief and saying:
"Oh God... again?"
Then he sighed, turning his face back toward the snowy trail and said in a tone bordering on a routine explanation:
"We're on Mount Kisrad, near the City of the Simple. When I talked to the townsfolk, I almost thought they knew nothing about the mountain-but then they said it didn't even exist twenty years ago."
Lucan paused, then lowered his voice, as if about to share not just a tale, but a whisper told around a dim fire on a stormy night:
"Before this mountain appeared, there was a palace here. A palace few speak of, though some of the town's elders remember it well. They said it stood here-tall, strange in shape. Then one night, there was a deafening sound... like an explosion or a massive earthquake. When the sound stopped, and the people came out to see what had happened... there was nothing but this mountain. The palace was gone, as if it had never existed."
He continued walking after finishing his tale, while Milo lingered behind, staring at the silent mountain-as if the very rocks still carried the echoes of that story.
They continued their climb amidst the wind that howled with a deadly calm, the crunch of their footsteps on fragile snow rising above the silence, as though they were the only ones on this mountain that had swallowed all signs of life. The fog crept slowly, wrapping around the rocks and hiding what lay beyond.
Milo suddenly broke the silence, his eyes drifting over the grim terrain around them, and said hesitantly:
"But wait... why is it called that?"
Lucan didn't turn but answered in a steady tone as he kept his eyes on the path ahead:
"Well, from what I heard, the name originally referred to the palace... but I'm not really sure what it means."
Milo's features tightened, as if a thought was beginning to take shape in his mind. After a moment of deep contemplation, he gazed at the mountain with eyes lit by a questioning gleam:
"Hmm... do you think, Lucan, that the palace is still under this mountain?"
Lucan stopped in his tracks. He turned toward his brother slowly, eyes wide in shock, a sudden realization crossing his face-mixed with a subtle, hidden worry. He stared at Milo for seconds, as if on the verge of saying something.
But he quickly wiped the expression from his face, as though putting on a mask of cold indifference to hide his real turmoil. He swallowed hard, then said in a barely audible voice:
"No... I don't think so."