Professor Nash and Kathy had set out aboard a specially prepared vessel, heading toward Antarctica. The thought that they might have been transported somewhere else never truly crossed their minds. Eliminate Siberia and Greenland, and only one possibility remained.

The rapidly dropping temperature, the intensifying, bone-shattering cold—these facts spoke for themselves. The seals and certain species of penguins they spotted on a few islands along the way seemed to whisper that their journey was nearing its end.

After a long ocean voyage, when John finally caught sight of a glacier-covered ridge in Antarctica, he voiced the thought that had surfaced in his mind:

“We’ve talked about so many conspiracy theories—Nazis hiding a secret base here related to extraterrestrials, an enormous underground city built beneath the ice, defeated Nazis fleeing the world and settling in that hidden city, UFOs crashing into these regions, and aliens leaving markers so they could return someday.”

Kathy nodded slightly, her breath forming a ghostly mist in the air.

“Yes, although some of those claims may have partial explanations, for now, we should still call them conspiracies. But there are also claims that cannot be dismissed so easily.”

“You must be thinking the same thing I am,” Professor Nash interjected.

“Professor Charles Hapgood suggested that undiscovered civilizations existed in Antarctica thousands of years ago—and that these people, forced to flee by an overwhelming catastrophe, may have migrated elsewhere and founded civilizations like the Aztecs or the Maya.”

“Yes, I remember,” Kathy said.

“Hapgood’s claim was never accepted by the scientific community. We could hardly expect it to be, considering no settlement remains had ever been found in Antarctica. But when the so-called pyramids—over a thousand meters tall—were discovered, people thought it proved that humans, or some other intelligent species, once lived here. Later, however, satellite images from Google Earth showed that the structures were nothing more than mountain formations resembling pyramids.”

Professor Nash cast Kathy a meaningful look and replied:

“Don’t tell me you believed that. Especially after everything we’ve been through. Can’t you see? These people abducted us and erased every trace of it. For them, editing satellite imagery—swapping a pyramid with a mountain, without leaving a trace—would be child’s play.”

A faint sound outside caught his attention.
John suspected Donald’s men might be listening in and decided to shift the conversation.
He seized the first opportunity.

He noticed the redness and swelling on Kathy’s arm and asked:

“If the cold is affecting your arm this quickly—turning it red—your job is going to be very difficult out there.”

“No, it’s not from the cold,” Kathy replied.
“It’s eczema. But yesterday I cut my hand by accident, and it became infected. The swelling and erythema are inflammatory responses.”

Professor Nash possessed a depth of knowledge not only in his field, but also in medicine. He preferred meaningful discussions to idle talk—any scientific subject fascinated him.

“We claim to own our bodies, yet we know almost nothing about them. To keep us alive, trillions of cells, dozens of organs and systems, work ceaselessly—each with a specific purpose. I’m not only interested in how the world formed, but also how the human body—this miniature version of the world—came to be. Have you ever wondered why autoimmune diseases like eczema occur? They fascinate me more than any other category.”

Kathy shook her head lightly and answered:

“Autoimmune diseases happen when the body sees itself as an enemy. That’s all I remember.”

“Alongside deadly conditions like cancer or Behçet’s disease, there are also many non-lethal skin disorders—problems that affect comfort and appearance rather than survival. And why the skin? The answer is simple: it contains high concentrations of leukocytes, the body’s defense cells.

I won’t bore you with a tour of every type of leukocyte, but here are the essentials.
B cells function as the immune system’s archives—they recognize and store the identity of invading microbes. T cells are like soldiers waiting for orders.

With intelligence supplied by B cells, they launch an immediate attack against hostile organisms. The fatigue and weakness we experience during illness—those symptoms come from this war effort.

Invading microbes use two main strategies to avoid being captured by leukocytes. Either they spread rapidly, dispersing toxins and taking what they need before escaping—like most common flu viruses do—or, as in AIDS, they disguise themselves, slipping through the bloodstream undetected by the patrolling ‘police force.’ They infiltrate the body and, whether by design or consequence, cause its destruction.”

“Who knows,” Kathy interrupted, “maybe some microbes kill on purpose.”

“They may not possess full intelligence like humans, but some degree of cognitive ability is suspected. And if they have any intelligence at all, a virus would never want to kill its host. Without the host, it survives only a few hours.”

“It would rather exploit the host without killing it.”

The professor paused for a moment after hearing her comment.
Kathy began to apologize.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, quite the opposite. You reminded me of a truth. You made me think of the exploitation systems of previous centuries. No offense meant, but the way great powers exploited Africans and South Americans resembles a virus invading a host.

And today, the fact that these major powers do not want the dictators of those countries to be replaced—trying instead to prevent their collapse—can be compared to a virus avoiding the death of its host. If all hosts die, there is nowhere left to infect.

The collapse of Third World countries—the collapse of exploited nations—would mean the end of capitalism, the end of monetary hegemony. The resulting chaos would eventually impact even the strongest nations.”

John concluded with a single sentence:

“The universe, the greatest of all teachers, continues to teach humanity through the language of events.”

“You’re making me remember what my dentist friend told me,” Kathy said.

“When we see pain, swelling, redness, or heat in a certain area of the body, it means there’s a problem there—and that leukocytes are engaged in battle against invading microbes. The pus that appears is nothing more than dead cells and microbes.

Leukocytes don’t just kill pathogens; the chemicals they secrete can destroy healthy cells as well. Some scientists even believe the immune system allows microbes to enter the bloodstream intentionally—so it can identify them and strengthen its defenses.”

Professor Nash lowered his eyes and peered over the top of his glasses.

“What you just mentioned sounds like a theory, but everything before it is well-established. What I want to know is—where are you going with this?”

“It’s quite simple,” Kathy replied.
“You said the universe is the greatest teacher. If the human body—this miniature world—can tolerate cell death, pain, swelling, and all sorts of collateral damage to ensure survival, then perhaps the world’s immune system does the same.

Maybe it allows pandemics—diseases that kill millions—to spread for a time, and then intervenes to stop them. In this way, the aging planet conducts population control to ensure the continuity of life.”

The professor paused, letting the idea settle.
Then he nodded slowly.

“Yes, the analogy between human and world—micro and macro—is reasonable. But why would the world allow pandemics to begin in the first place?

According to those who believe in creation, the world is an appointed servant of God—pandemics emerge with His permission and end by His will.

Recently, there’s been a trend of claiming that artificial intelligence governs the world and the universe. Let’s set those debates aside and assume, somehow, that the world itself has an immune system.”

Kathy suddenly cut in.

“Have you read Dan Brown’s Inferno? There’s a film too—the one that ends in Istanbul.”

John squinted, searching his memory.

“That must be the one set in Florence. It dealt with pandemics. It mentioned those strange masks used in the 16th century to protect against disease… and Dante, the author of The Divine Comedy, with his vivid depictions of hell.”

“Professor, your memory is as sharp as ever—despite the white hair,” Kathy teased, then added,

“The novel’s climax took place in the historic Saraçhane reservoir in Istanbul.”

“And I recall the film ending differently from the book.”

“As the book suggested, pandemics may be tragic for those who die—but they can be beneficial for the world and for future generations. Without pandemics, the global population would be dozens, perhaps hundreds of times larger today.

Imagine housing, feeding, and supplying fresh water to such an enormous population—more importantly, imagine a world where cooperation, sacrifice, and empathy no longer exist. Chaos would be inevitable. And eventually, both the world and the human species would collapse.”

The professor’s expression grew grim as he nodded.
“Yes. Unfortunately, you’re right.”

“And I also think the idea of Earth having its own immune system is perfectly reasonable. Until the twentieth century, countless pandemics came and went—yet none of them ended because of human intervention.

We don’t actually know why they disappeared. We simply assume people developed immunity. But why did some immune systems succeed while others—belonging to healthy individuals—failed and resulted in death?

Even in the twentieth century, antibiotics, antivirals, and vaccines haven't been fully successful at stopping outbreaks. There are still many unsolved paradoxes about pandemics.”

Kathy had just finished speaking when Donald appeared at the front of the cabin.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but get ready—we’ll be stepping onto the ice soon,” he said, then added,
“I hope things go the way we’ve estimated. If the ice on Twin-Horn Island is thinner than the main Antarctic continent, we’ll be able to reach the ground beneath it. About ten years ago, we broke through the ice here, but made no meaningful discoveries. Since then, Antarctica has been something of a second home to me.”

The ship pushed forward, weaving through towering walls of ice. They arrived at an island located a few kilometers off the western tip of the Antarctic mainland, and roughly five hundred kilometers from the southernmost edge of South America.

The island—buried under glaciers—was called Twin-Horn Island, named after two protrusions along its edges that resembled horns.

Watching the melting ice masses drift by, Kathy said to John:

“Some researchers believe that if glaciers continue melting at this rate, in just a quarter of a century, coastal cities may sink underwater. But the greater threat is that rising temperatures may warm the oceans, disrupting ecological balance. Warm-water fish species could become dominant.

For example, dominant species could trigger the extinction of smaller fish. If the water becomes too warm for smaller species to survive, not only would they vanish—but humans would suffer nutrient deficiencies, due to the loss of a key food source. Pandemics would be replaced by famine. And mass death would no longer be a distant doomsday scenario.”

“There are scientists who compare the world to a house, and the glaciers to a deep freezer,” Professor Nash said.
“We cannot know what the previous inhabitants of this house stored in that freezer thousands of years ago. Maybe they did it out of necessity. Or maybe they put something there to be used when the time was right.

And perhaps the mischievous child of the household—or the thrill-seeking teenager—hid something without the knowledge of the responsible forces running the house, the powers that govern the world.”

With this metaphor, Nash expanded Kathy’s catastrophic vision of Antarctica into something even more unsettling.

“I don’t think what you’re suggesting is far-fetched at all,” Kathy replied.
“Of course, we’re not expecting some gigantic dinosaur—or creature—to emerge from beneath the thawing ice, but—”

She never finished the sentence. Donald reappeared, entering the cabin abruptly, an Antarctic map in hand. He spread it across the table and pointed at Twin-Horn Island.

“This is the section of Antarctica shown in the drawing. The ‘horns’—or capes—appear to contain egg-shaped objects. According to the image, these things lie several kilometers inland—perhaps forty or fifty.

If someone came here from elsewhere to bury something, they wouldn’t travel too far inland. They’d finish quickly and leave.”

“What if they are dinosaur eggs? Even if dinosaurs couldn’t think—”

“Your scientific eye must be slipping. Dinosaurs were warm-blooded. They couldn’t have survived in Antarctica. And according to both the map and the drawing, the egg-shaped objects on each cape are the same distance from the shore.

Two identical placements, perfectly symmetrical—this suggests a mind at work. Someone put those objects there deliberately. Perhaps as a code. A puzzle.”

“The idea that dinosaurs were warm-blooded is just a theory,” Kathy countered.
“The dominant view is that they were mesothermic—somewhere between warm- and cold-blooded. And we can’t even be certain dinosaurs existed exactly as we imagine.

Besides, we can imagine that Antarctica was once located farther north—and only later moved south due to changes in the Earth’s magnetic field and axial shifts.

But because of that symmetry you mentioned, I agree—we can eliminate the possibility of an animal placing its own eggs there. But a human could have placed them—and later mapped it on the cave wall.”

“What do you mean by Earth moving due to magnetic fields?” Donald asked.

Professor Nash waved the question aside.

“Never mind. We don’t have time to explain all that now.”

“Fine,” Donald said, and continued.

“The island is covered in ice — even if the layer is thin. We can’t dig across kilometers of terrain. That’s why we’ll mount a ground-penetrating radar on the snowmobiles and scan everything. We’ll detect anything underground that differs in density from the soil, or any hollow cavities such as caves.

By analyzing how the sound waves return — the distortions, the delays — we’ll be able to identify voids and anomalies beneath the surface.”

“Do we all need to go for that?” Kathy asked.

“No,” Donald replied. “My team and I will handle the scanning.”

He paused, then smiled with artificial reassurance.
“In the meantime, you two will simply wait for your colleagues to arrive. Don’t worry about them — you’re all serving the same country, even if your backgrounds differ…”

Kathy muttered under her breath, “Right, you’ve managed to bind them to America too,” then smirked and raised her voice:

“So what exactly are we doing here — did you organize a United Nations summit?”

“That could also happen one day,” Donald replied with the same mocking grin.

“When we find those things, we’ll do a superficial inspection. As soon as we confirm there isn’t some monstrous beast or dinosaur waiting underneath, we’ll leave the site to you.

I don’t know what you’ll encounter afterward, but my team will be right behind you… with our fingers on the trigger.”

With that, Donald shut the cabin door and locked it from the outside, leaving Nash and Kathy trapped while he and his men descended onto the icy terrain to begin their search.

Days passed. Footsteps, engines, and muffled voices came and went outside the locked cabin.
Occasionally, guards entered only to deliver food, water, or winter clothing — nothing more.

Two weeks later, the door opened again. This time, Donald stepped inside wearing a rare expression: he was smiling.

“The cave drawings weren’t fantasy. They were true.”

“You mean you found egg-shaped objects on both capes?” John asked, eyes lighting up with scientific excitement.

“Yes. Just as in the drawing — oval, elliptical forms. We’ve located the one on the western cape. We will examine it first. If we understand what it is, we’ll begin searching for the eastern one later.”

He stepped aside and gestured toward the doorway.

“And by the way — meet your colleagues.”

From the way the newcomers glanced at Professor Nash, Kathy, and each other, it was obvious there was no trust between them. Still, they forced smiles, shook hands, and went through the ritual of introductions.

Afterwards, Kathy leaned toward the professor and whispered:

“Except for the Chinese professor, none of them are historians, paleontologists, or geophysicists. We have an engineer, a teacher, a veterinarian… How did their countries send these people as representatives? I don’t understand.”

“One more exception,” Professor Nash murmured.
“The Danish man, Nielsen. I know him. He’s a good historian. I’ve seen him present on mysteries of ancient civilizations at several conferences.”

Meanwhile, unaware that he was being discussed, Nielsen was studying the map — his eyes fixed on the Twin-Horn Island near Antarctica that mirrored the cave drawing.

The professor decided to tease him.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been to this island.”

“Not me, but perhaps my ancestors have,” Nielsen replied without looking up.
“I’m not joking, professor. I know who you are — the famous archaeologist, Professor John Nash. And I imagine the name and shape of the island caught your attention. It resembles a pair of horns.”

Nielsen had long since bypassed small talk and dived straight into work, which pleased Nash immensely.

The professor spoke the first image that came to mind:

“Bulls and oxen have such double horns.”

Nielsen smiled.

“Yes, but if you go back to ancient times, which culture comes to mind first?”

“Hmmm,” Kathy jumped in,
“Of course — the Vikings. When I was a kid, I watched Viking movies and cartoons. The sailors, or pirates if you will, always had horned helmets and traveled to strange places, encountering mysterious lands and people. Even their ships had horned symbols.”

“Yes,” Nielsen replied, amused.
“The benefits of childhood cartoons.”

“We generally think of Vikings as barbarians or pirates. But that isn’t entirely true. Among them were explorers who built large, powerful ships and discovered new lands across distant seas.”

“Fine,” Nash said, “we can assume Vikings traveled far from Scandinavia with their strong ships. But just because the island looks like a Viking symbol doesn’t mean they came here. That seems unlikely to me.”

“You must consider every era according to its own conditions,” Nielsen countered.
“Ancient peoples cared deeply about symbols. Wherever they lived, they left marks — signs of their presence — so that others, or future generations, would know they had been there.

If the egg you mentioned was something important, something belonging to a Viking — they wouldn’t bury it on Twin-Horn Island using a symbol so obvious, so striking that any later Viking would be compelled to follow it. And not just Vikings — every tribe, every civilization would use symbols in this way.”

“So what are you saying?” Kathy asked.
“That Jews buried their treasures on a star-shaped island, Muslims on a crescent-shaped one, and Christians on a cross-shaped one?”

Her expression remained serious, though the irony behind her words was unmistakable.

“Science requires us to consider every possibility, every interpretation,” Professor Nash replied.
“Even when they sound absurd to us.”

In saying this, he signaled partial agreement with Nielsen’s symbolic interpretation.

“We tend to associate the double-horned head with Vikings, but they were not the only ones who used it. Ancient Turkic tribes of Central Asia used the symbol for the Oğuz, their leader. Some even claimed that the Oğuz were prophets.”

“Prophets? Which ones? Abraham or Noah?”

“According to the Bible and the Qur’an, prophets were sent to every community—to guide them toward moral and just societies, so they could achieve paradise in the afterlife.
Therefore, it is believed that many prophets existed who are not explicitly named in those scriptures. Just as there were Western figures like Aristotle or Alexander, there were Eastern figures like Alp Er Tunga or Buddha.”

“In modern Abrahamic religions, there is an idea of spreading faith across the world.
With that mindset, perhaps such people risked everything and came to Antarctica.
We still have missionaries today entering untouched jungles, after all.”

“In ancient times,” Nash replied, “prophets were usually tasked with guiding a specific tribe or region. But your interpretation isn’t necessarily wrong.

And if we consider that some Native American tribes share linguistic and cultural similarities with Central Asian Turkic peoples—manners, words, certain traditions—it supports the idea that ancient tribes migrated from Asia to the Americas across Alaska thousands of years ago.

So, with powerful ships and a desire to earn God’s favor, it’s possible they continued south, past the tip of the Americas, and reached Antarctica. We know that Inuit peoples lived in the cold northern regions—Greenland and Alaska—but no indigenous civilization ever existed in Antarctica.”

“I’m curious,” Kathy said.
“What does the double-horned helmet actually signify? Why did they wear it?”

“When we speak of horns,” Nielsen explained, “we think of rams, bulls, and their castrated form, oxen. These animals are known for their power.

Today, we say someone is ‘as strong as a lion.’ Similarly, ancient warriors used the double-horned helmet to show they were powerful and fearless like bulls — to intimidate their enemies.”

“Let’s not drift too far,” Professor Nash interrupted gently.
“Assume Vikings, Central Asian Turks, or perhaps Chinese explorers came here. What is the connection between their presence and the egg-shaped objects we found?”

“I don’t know the exact answer,” Nielsen admitted.
“But if my theory is correct — if a prophet came here — then perhaps he brought those objects to Antarctica to keep them away from humanity.”

“So you’re suggesting they contained something terrible — something that would bring harm and death?”

“I think it’s possible. And clearly Donald and his team believe the same. They told us they would handle excavating the objects, and that ‘we scientists should figure out the rest.’

There’s a hint of truth in that — and also manipulation. They are pushing us forward as the first line of exposure. The reality is: none of us know what awaits us.”

The assembled research team had brainstormed endlessly, but produced no solid conclusion. For those like Nash and Nielsen, the only path forward was observation — direct analysis. They were eager to see the objects with their own eyes.When Donald summoned them to the deck, they understood at once — their turn had come.

They left the ship and stepped onto the ice.
Each of them shared the same unspoken fear:

What if I hear a crack — and suddenly find myself swallowed by freezing water?

After they trekked a few hundred meters, their anxiety must have been visible.
Donald attempted reassurance:

“There’s solid ground beneath us. I assure you, the snow here is firm. You won’t fall through.”

Although Donald had brought them here through blackmail, promises, and quiet coercion, he could not be called a common thug. He did seem to care about their safety—at least as much as his own—but that concern was not purely humanitarian.

The scientists were well aware that if things went wrong, Donald might decide they were expendable. And they also knew that no ordinary American citizen would ever approve of kidnapping, threatening, or killing harmless researchers in the name of national interest.

But the world was not governed by ordinary citizens. Geographies changed, nations rose and fell, religions transformed—but some dark doctrines remained constant.

No culture openly sanctioned kidnapping, coercion, or execution of innocents. Yet under the banner of national security, the hidden machinery of the state continued its illegal, clandestine, and morally twisted operations.

Some powers seized natural resources in the name of liberation.
Others exploited entire nations under the guise of civilization.

The scientists understood this truth well, which is why they continued to act as though they were unafraid. Donald and his men walked ahead, while the scientists followed on snow vehicles. Soon they reached an area bordered by trenches.

It was obvious the trenches had been dug deliberately. They had expected Donald might confine them in an open or closed compound, but they had not expected such a calculated precaution. The strangest detail was that the trench formed a perfect circle, yet was only half a meter wide. Kathy examined it carefully, perplexed.

“This time of year, Antarctica has snowstorms—not always lethal, but dangerous. Even if someone escaped on foot, they’d freeze before they reached anything. And even if they reached the sea, how would they escape without a ship or a phone?

Besides, if they wanted to stop us from escaping, wouldn’t they make the trench wide enough so we couldn’t jump over it?”

John Nash gave her a meaningful look.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t underestimate an enemy. Donald isn’t just knowledgeable. He has dealt with many strange events before. He has the experience to prevent problems—and to keep secrets buried.”

“Professor, if this trench wasn’t meant to stop us from escaping, then what was it meant for?”