Francisco Torres stepped out of the solitary research facility and held his breath to listen for the sound. Everything looked normal. The frosted mountains loomed like colossal giants as the polar night cast the world in an icy blue hue. Then, he heard it again: the voice in the wind, and began trudging through the snow with smoky-white air emanating from his mouth, hoping to find its source.

Soon, Francisco arrived at a mountain he had never seen before; it was shrouded in a strange green glow. Part of him wanted to bolt, but the other was drawn to the light by scientific curiosity and an indescribable force, which made his bones tingle. But, Francisco was unprepared for what he encountered: a city hidden under the Antarctic ice. No amount of rubbing his eyes could cause it to vanish.

As he approached, the details of this grand settlement became clearer. Roads ran from the centre of the city where a tall domed building stood; the layout resembled spokes in a bicycle wheel. Instantly, the air grew humid and warm, forcing Francisco to unzip his heavy coat.

Within the gleaming city were more round-top edifices and cobbled streets made from the indigo stone of the mountains. Lush, exotic plants lined streets or grew out of porches on various structures.

"Welcome to Eskarlha," said a voice.

Francisco turned to see a solidly built man with tan skin wearing a long, green poncho. He said his name, which was too intricate to repeat, though his mouth never moved. Next, he showed Francisco around the city while explaining that he was one of their descendants, as were the first people who left Eskarlha for the country known today as Argentina.

"The old deity who is not long in rising has brought you home," he said.

Deity? Francisco thought.

"Yes," he replied. "Come, you must see."

His guide took him to the edge of the city that faced the gigantic mountain. Along the way, they were joined by hundreds of denizens in green ponchos. After arriving at a square, the man simply pointed at the peak. At first, Francisco saw nothing, and then his heart sank into his stomach. In the cliff face, an enormous eye opened. Suddenly, all of the people around Francisco dropped to their knees and lowered their heads to the ground.

Francisco alone stood, shaking under the piercing green stare of the unblinking eye, engulfed by an overwhelming sense of his smallness. The being to which the eye belonged entered his mind. In this vision, he saw two mammoth-sized eyes and a colossal silhouette that appeared to be a body. When the being spoke, the world shook along with everything in Francisco.

"Remain," it said, "and live. Leave and be put to death. Which do you choose?"

"Ree...mmain," Francisco stammered, and the vision melted away.

Francisco opened his eyes to find he was being carried towards the building at the centre of the city, swearing he heard someone say: initiation.