Dr. Elara Voss adjusted her visor, the thin layer of frost already clinging to the lens as she stepped onto the crimson dunes of Eos-9. The air here tasted metallic, like rusted iron and burnt ozone, a constant reminder of the planet’s volatile atmosphere. Her boots sank into the fine, powdery sand, each step sending tiny plumes spiraling into the low-hanging sky. Above, twin suns cast jagged shadows across the horizon, their light filtered through a haze of amber dust. Elara’s gloved hand hovered over the scanner at her belt, its screen flickering with erratic readings. Something was wrong. The colony’s life-support systems had begun failing hours ago, and no one could explain why.
“This isn’t possible,” Jax muttered, his voice crackling through the comms. He stood beside her, his face obscured by the visor of his suit. His fingers danced over the controls of the portable diagnostic unit, his usual confidence replaced by a tightness in his jaw. “The air composition should be stable. No trace of toxins. No… nothing.” His words were clipped, urgent.
Elara exhaled, the breath fogging her visor. “Then why is the oxygen recycler shutting down?” She gestured to the distant cluster of domed structures that housed the colony’s core systems. The domes shimmered under the twin suns, their surfaces marred by cracks that pulsed faintly with an eerie, bioluminescent glow. “It’s not a mechanical failure. Something’s interfering with the systems.”
Jax didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crouched, scooping a handful of sand into his gloved hand. The grains clung to his fingers, shimmering with an unnatural sheen. “This isn’t just dust,” he said, his voice low. “It’s… alive.”
Elara’s pulse quickened. She crouched beside him, reaching out to touch the sand. The moment her gloved fingers brushed the grains, a sharp jolt shot up her arm, like static electricity. She yanked her hand back, her breath hitching. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Jax said, his tone grim. “But it’s not going to stop. The systems are down in three sectors now. If we don’t fix this, we’ll be breathing toxic air within hours.”
Elara stood, her mind racing. The colony’s survival depended on the recycler, and the recycler was failing for reasons no one could explain. She turned toward the nearest dome, its surface glowing faintly as if it were alive. “We need to get inside. Find the source.”
Jax hesitated, his eyes scanning the horizon. “And if it’s not just a malfunction? If this planet…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication hung between them.
Elara nodded. “Then we’ll face it.”
The dome’s entrance loomed ahead, its hatch slightly ajar. As they approached, the sand beneath their boots shifted, as though the ground itself were aware of their presence. Elara’s comms crackled again, this time with static. Then a voice—low, distorted, and unfamiliar. “You should not have come.”
Jax froze. “Who’s there?”
No answer. Only the sound of the wind, which now carried a whispering quality, like voices speaking in a language just beyond comprehension. Elara tightened her grip on her scanner. “We don’t have time for this.”
She pushed open the hatch, the metal groaning as if resisting. Inside, the air was thick and humid, carrying the scent of damp earth and something else—something sweet and cloying, like overripe fruit. The walls pulsed faintly, their surfaces covered in a network of glowing veins that shifted color in response to their presence.
“This isn’t just a dome,” Jax said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… part of the planet.”
Elara’s eyes darted to the control panels, their screens flickering with unreadable symbols. The oxygen levels were dropping faster now, the air growing heavier with each passing second. She moved quickly, her fingers dancing over the controls. “We need to override the system. If we can’t find the source, we’ll lose everyone.”
“And if this thing is alive?” Jax asked, his tone wary. “What if it’s not just a malfunction? What if it’s… using us?”
Elara didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The thought was too close to the truth. As she worked, the veins in the walls pulsed faster, their glow intensifying. The air thickened, and the whispering voices grew louder, more insistent.
Then the lights went out.
In the darkness, Elara heard Jax’s breath, ragged and uneven. “We’re running out of time,” he said.
She nodded, her hands moving blindly over the controls. The scanner in her hand buzzed faintly, its screen flickering with a single word: **RESIST**.
“We need to find the core,” she said. “If we can shut it down, maybe we can stop this.”
Jax hesitated. “And if it’s not that simple?”
Elara didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The darkness was closing in, and the whispers were no longer just voices—they were a presence, pressing against her mind, trying to pull her under.
She forced herself to move, her boots crunching over the smooth floor. The walls pulsed with a rhythmic glow, like a heartbeat. Somewhere ahead, the core awaited. And with it, the truth about Eos-9—and what it had become.
