In the screaming heart of the Karakoram, where mountains rise like fangs from the earth’s torn jaw, I crawled through storms that could flay gods. Ice cracked like thunder beneath my boots, and avalanches fell like sky-sized drums of war. My breath froze mid-curse, my mind burned clean of comfort. There were no trails—only cliffs, chaos, and the savage joy of knowing no one could save me. The mountain didn’t welcome me. It devoured me—and I howled back.