Antarctica was, in a word, interminable.
The impossibly blue sky stretched on forever. The daylight never ceased, not even for an hour. The pure white terrain, rife with otherworldly shapes formed by the blistering wind, continued farther than the eye could see. But perhaps the continent’s vastest and cruelest aspect had nothing to do with its scenery. Rather, it was whatever clawed at the very sanity of its would-be travelers, obscuring every end but theirs.
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