Pulse of the Abyss

7162 words

Maren’s gloved fingers trembled as she adjusted the microscope lens, the cold biting through the thin fabric despite the heater humming in the corner of the lab. The ice core sample sat under the harsh white light, a cylinder of frozen history pulled from six hundred meters down, and there it was again—that black vein threading through the center like a crack in reality. It pulsed. She swore it did. Not a trick of tired eyes, not a shadow cast by the bulb overhead. A slow, deliberate throb, as if something inside the ice knew she was watching. Her breath caught, fogging the edge of her mask, and she leaned closer, the metal edge of the scope pressing into her brow. “You’re still at it?” Harker’s voice cut through the silence, boots crunching on the frost-dusted floor as he stepped into the lab. His parka was unzipped, showing the stiff khaki of his uniform underneath, and his face carried that same hard edge it always did—jaw set, eyes narrowed like he was measuring the room for threats. “Thought you’d be packing by now. We’ve got nine days left, Solvik. Nine.” Her spine stiffened, but she didn’t look up. The black vein twitched again, or maybe it didn’t. Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out the hum of the heater....