They found the ancient bottle embedded in ice almost 180 feet down in the Hirsch-Arwa Trench; rum, probably, from the handblown shape. Fortiss did everything he could to keep the bottle intact, but it cracked and then shattered during defrosting. The note inside, however, remained almost new – as if it had just been written. “Make haste to leave this place,” it cautioned, “for tentacled horrors wait in the frozen black deep, awakened by the slightest foreign sound. Avoid the Poles; the ice hides only madness and death. Here be monsters.” Fortiss shuddered, suddenly afraid. They had just installed a pump attached to the main generator for water recycling at the outpost; it was thumping day and night against the glacier like a drum.