Subzero by The Ambient Hermit & Ingrid N

In the frozen wastes of Antarctica, where the wind howled like a tormented soul, Dr. Elena Petrovich huddled within her shelter. She had been part of an international research team studying the climate's scar upon the continent's icy shield. But a sudden blizzard had torn the team asunder, leaving Elena alone to battle for survival in the - 80°F deep.

With each passing day, her supplies dwindled. Her rationed food and water were nearly spent, the fuel for her heater fading to a whisper. Each night, the biting cold crept into her very bones, and she feared she might not live to see another dawn. One evening, as she sat in the feeble glow of her flickering lamp, a sound pierced the howling wind—a faint cry, a fragile thread of noise in the roaring silence.

Elena wrapped herself in her thickest coat and stepped out into the storm. The wind whipped her face, a thousand icy needles stinging her skin. She squinted into the shifting darkness, searching for the sound's origin. Then she saw it - a faint, wavering light in the distance. A spark of hope ignited within her, and she stumbled forward, fighting the relentless gale.

As she drew nearer, the light grew steadier, revealing a small, isolated research station. She hammered on the door, her numb fingers barely able to form a fist. Suddenly, the door creaked open, framing a solitary figure silhouetted against the warmth within.

The man was gaunt, his eyes wild, his beard a matted tapestry of frost. He seized Elena by the arm and pulled her inside, the door slamming shut behind her. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice a rasping whisper. "How did you find this place?"

Elena introduced herself, explaining her plight. The man, who called himself Dr. Karl, listened intently, his eyes darting between her and the door as if expecting an intrusion at any moment.

"I have been here for months," Karl breathed, his voice barely louder than an exhalation. "I was part of a team, but they are all gone. The cold... it took them. It has taken so many."

Elena's heart raced as she grasped the gravity of her situation. She was not safe; this man was clearly unhinged. Yet within her, it was not just fear that awoke, but the trained will to survive. She began to sift his words, separating truth from the chaff of paranoia.

In the days that followed, she watched him closely. His behaviour grew more erratic, yet Elena kept her mind sharp and alert. In a moment of quiet, while Karl slept, she discovered a hidden crate containing intact radio batteries - a chance he, paralyzed by fear, had never dared to take.

That night, when a heavy thud struck the door, Elena was ready. She watched Karl startle awake in terror. Outside, in the gloom, stood a figure—a man, his face pale and lifeless, eyes glazed over. Dressed in a researcher's uniform, his body was frozen solid, leaned against the door, thrown there by the storm's caprice.

Instead of succumbing to blind panic, Elena understood the grim truth: this was no supernatural apparition, but the frozen corpse of one of Karl's former comrades, repeatedly unearthed by the wandering wind.

In that moment, she knew the true danger lurked not in the shadows, but in surrender. She shook herself free - not just from Karl's grasp, but from the paralysis of fear. She seized the batteries she had hidden and sent a desperate distress call, the coordinates pulsing out into the night.

"It is no creature out there that claims us, Karl," she said, her voice steady as the radio signal pierced the darkness. "It is the loneliness and the despair.

But we must give the light a chance to find us."

She did not flee blindly into the night. She remained, keeping watch beside the now-functioning radio, and waited as the Aurora Australis danced over the icy grave in veils of green and violet - an immeasurably beautiful, and now a hopefully comforting, spectacle at the edge of the world. She knew death waited in the cold, but in her heart now burned a spark that the bitterest frost could not extinguish: the unshakeable certainty that even in the deepest darkness, a signal of rescue can be sent.

And then, an answer came. Standing in the light were
a woman and a man.

Technical notes by Scott Lawlor:
When Ingrid N sent me some gong sounds, bells, a long drone and some AI voices, I decided to import each layer into my sampler and run them through the 16-track multi-effects chain that I use for the Ambient Hermit project.
Each track has 4 effects making it a total of 64 effects for each project file in reaper.
There were originally 10 samples so this would have added up to 160 tracks for the whole project. I would add a couple more variations of the AI voice tracks as I worked on the album so the total increased.
I got up to 32 tracks before my memory and CPU power were both maxed out at 97% and 100% respectively.
Not one to allow a technical challenge to get in the way of my creativity, I recorded each sample into the effects chain, saved them all as .wav files and reimported them into komplete kontrol where I could play them in real-time without the lag caused by so many VST effects running simultaneously.
For the AI voices, I reversed them, also ran them through Paul stretch at very low resolutions to give them a more creepy vibe and played them at different octaves so this increased the number of samples I'd be playing in real-time.
The bells and gongs were also played at very low octaves and, at first listen, I was ready to dismiss the long drone as it was too resonant for my ears but experimenting with different pitches, I found a way to incorporate it.
So in total, with every sample run through my effects chain, bounced down to audio and reimported, it came to a total of 256 tracks and 1024 effects.


Cover: sami-matias-breilin-VSZkdXfqfCo-unsplash.jpg

Ingrid Narval Faolán is a gong player.
She creates ambient music with gong sounds. These sound sculptures open your heart and alter your consciousness.
And.......
Solis Noctis,
her space for experiments.