Chapter 12: The Truth Beneath

I froze for a second, then took off my glove and carefully touched the wall.

It was smooth—not as cold as I’d expected, but slightly warm.

I took out my geology hammer and tapped the wall.

One tap, and I realised something strange:

Granite has a Mohs hardness of 6 to 7; obsidian, 5 to 5.5.

But the wall of this cone mountain had a Mohs hardness of at least 9—even harder than tungsten steel alloy.

Our core drill was long lost, so now we could only use brute force—hammering.

But after taking turns for ages, we couldn’t even make a dent.

Amit tossed the hammer aside and sat down, panting:

"Rohan, what on earth is this thing?"

I shook my head. "Never seen anything like it. It’s not metal, but it doesn’t look like stone, either."

Amit slapped the wall and joked, "Could it be man-made? Some kind of strong interaction material? An alien spaceship?"

I laughed, "If it drilled up from underground, does that mean the aliens are escaping?"

But as soon as I said it, I froze.

Ever since I’d first seen the cone mountain, something had felt off.

A terrifying thought began to take shape in my mind.

"Amit."

I swallowed and spoke softly:

"You study earthquakes too. The Antarctic Plate can’t just squeeze out a mountain by itself, right?"

Seeing my serious expression, Amit stopped joking and replied:

"Right. And besides, Earth’s gravity wouldn’t allow a mountain over ten thousand metres. Also..."

"Also..." I interrupted, "mountains formed by plate collisions are made of earth and stone. But this cone mountain looks more like a ‘naturally’ formed ‘giant stone,’ right?"

Amit nodded again, his eyes dark and troubled.

"So, the cone mountain was pushed out from inside the Earth by some force."

"A force so powerful, it drove the cone mountain straight through the Antarctic Plate."

I forced myself to voice my thoughts, cold sweat soaking my thermal innerwear.

"Earthquake bureaus worldwide calculated that the focal depth of the 11·11 Antarctic earthquake was 700 kilometres."

"That means the original position of the cone mountain was beneath the crust—maybe even in the mantle."

The words echoed in the polar stillness, an impossible truth hanging between us, as mysterious and immense as the mountain itself. Somewhere beneath our feet, something ancient was stirring—and we were the first to hear its call.