Sometime after midday, Charles Atlee and his daughter Genevieve arrived at an Ice Station near McMurdo Sound.

  After braving the Antarctic cold, they took a Snow Cruiser (boasting a wheel span of ten feet) through harsh Katabatic winds, which would have seemed hellish to most, had it not been for the small cabins and bunks.

  By day two, the 'Blackest Mountains' appeared an inconceivable dark range, whose peaks scaled beyond sight, under a heavy bank of clouds.

  Even up close, the obsidian hue of the 'Blackest Mountains' gave off an aura of malevolence, like it had been brought into existence by a forbidden Grimoire.

  On the far side was a Ziggurat Temple, with its steep staircase leading up to the highest tier.

  Passing through the entrance; Genevieve was shocked to see an area surrounded by massive statues. The figures looked Wolf-like in appearance with silvered skin reminding her of fish scales.

  Soon, they came to a spiral path winding around the tip of another pyramid.

  A trough had been carved out of the wall, allowing oil to ignite a flaming trail all the way down.

  "Astonishing, isn't it?" Charles said. "There’s actually another mountain inside this bigger one. Hence the name: 'The Pregnant Pass'." He looked up at the darkness. “A place where the sun cannot reach."

  On the way down, Genevieve could taste metal on her tongue, as a shiver hollowed her bones.

  “It is me, or does air feel thinner the further down we go?”

  “That’s why I brought these,” Charles said, handing over a Respirator mask. “Beyond this point, there is no telling how good the air is.”

  Activating flashlights, they stopped on the edge of a place where stalagmites poked up like rocky Ant-hills.

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  Crouching down, Genevieve picked up a handful of dirt, noting how it everything on the ground felt like burnt match heads.

  Strange. She thought.

  Sweeping a beam of light against the wall, she could see how only the bottom half was discoloured by a great heat.

  “This place must have been filled with lava.” She said. “It was intense enough to melt the rock.”

  “You're gonna love this.” Charles said.

  Wandering over to a large metal disc, Genevieve could make out white letters set against a blue banner and spelling out the word: ‘Saltworth’.

  Somewhat confused, the pale woman brushed off the remaining dirt from the circle and nearly lost her footing, for here in the remotest part of the South Pole, was a sign for the London Underground.

  Following the wall, she tracked the broken tiles to what appeared to be a bay window filled with rubble.

  Hanging from a bracket, was the half-burnt sign that read: Foxlight and Lantern Free House.

  “This is insane.” Genevieve said. “What is a London Pub doing in the South Pole?”

  “Inside the London Underground, no less.”

  “How is this even possible?”

  “Reset theory.” Charles said. “The idea that suggests we are not the first human race, but a result of trial and error.”

  The woman shot him a look. “So we exist because of a do-over?”

  “Who’s to say this is our second incarnation? This could be the fifth or even fiftieth version of the species. How many times did we fail through mutual destruction?”

  Genevieve sighed.

  “Let’s carry on, before I lose my mind.”

  The outsiders removed their masks at the foot of torched-lined steps, flanked with burning braziers on either side of a small tunnel.

  Emerging from the entrance, a cool breeze lighted their faces, inside an amphitheatre lit by chandeliers made from elephant tusk and old rope.

  "The Chieftain sits with a High Priest." Charles said, nodding to a stone dais. "In order to appease the Elder God in person."

  "In person?"

  The old man gestured toward a circular wooden grate located near the seating area.

  Genevieve knelt down and peered into gloom. Once her vision adjusted, she was able to make out the shape of something so terrifying, it sent her reeling

  A maggot the size of a small bus could be seen under wavering torchlight. The sheen of its cream-coloured mass squirmed with all the repulsiveness of its tinier kin.

  The pale woman backed away slowly

  "What in God's name?" She said.

  "One of them at least,"

  "How? Why?"

  "No-one knows." Charles said. "It is said to be nearly two hundred million years old, when all the continents were one." He nodded solemnly. "This…is where it gets weird."