A harsh wind cuts across the barren peak, whispering through crevices like distant voices lost to time. The sky is a pale, colorless expanse — neither day nor night, just a cold stillness suspended in air. Jagged rocks pierce through thin patches of old snow, and the ground feels ancient, untouched. The silence is oppressive, almost alive — as if the mountain itself is watching. Standing there, surrounded by endless nothing, the weight of the emptiness presses in, too wide, too still, too quiet. You are completely, utterly alone.