The static crackled like dry bones in the void of space, a sound that had haunted K-7’s ears for three years. The station’s hull groaned as it drifted through the asteroid belt, its solar panels flickering weakly under a dim sun. Lena Voss adjusted the dials on her console, her calloused fingers trembling. She hadn’t heard anything in weeks—no transmissions, no distress calls, just the endless hiss of the cosmos. But tonight, something shifted.
A pulse. A single, sharp burst that sliced through the static like a blade. Lena froze. Her breath hitched. The signal was weak, fragmented, but it was there—something *alive*. She leaned closer, her breath fogging the glass of the viewport as she scanned the data. The frequency was unfamiliar, yet… familiar. A pattern emerged, repeating in a rhythm that felt deliberate, almost musical. Her pulse quickened. This wasn’t random.
“You there?” she called into the microphone, her voice raw from disuse. “This is K-7. Do you copy?”
No response. Only the static, louder now, as if the universe itself were holding its breath. Lena’s hands flew over the controls, amplifying the signal. The screen flickered, revealing a distorted image—a ship, half-buried in the dust of a forgotten moon. Its hull was corroded, its once-pristine white paint now a patchwork of rust and shadow. She recognized it instantly. The *Aurora*, a deep-space research vessel that had vanished a decade ago. Its last transmission had been a garbled scream before vanishing into the void.
Lena’s throat tightened. If the *Aurora* was here, then someone—something—was still out there. She grabbed her suit, her movements brisk and precise. The airlock hissed as she stepped into the cold, her boots crunching on the station’s metal floor. The moon’s surface loomed ahead, a desolate expanse of jagged rock and endless shadow. She didn’t hesitate. The signal was calling her, and she had to answer.
The descent was silent, save for the crunch of her boots and the rhythmic thump of her heartbeat. The moon’s gravity tugged at her, making each step feel heavier, as if the planet itself were trying to pull her back. When she reached the *Aurora*, the ship looked even worse up close—its hull dented, its windows shattered. But there was movement. A flicker of light from within, like a heartbeat. Lena’s breath caught. She activated her helmet’s comms.
“Hello?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is Lena Voss. Are you… are you alive?”
A crackle. Then, a voice—hoarse, fractured, but unmistakably human. “Help… us.” The words were barely audible, but they sent a shiver down her spine. She pressed her palm against the ship’s hull, feeling the vibration of the voice through the metal. It was real. They were real.
The airlock door creaked open, revealing a corridor bathed in flickering lights. The *Aurora*’s interior was a graveyard—tables overturned, equipment smashed, and the stench of decay hanging in the air. Lena’s boots echoed as she moved deeper, her flashlight cutting through the darkness. She found them in the command deck—a group of five, huddled around a console that pulsed with an eerie blue light. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes hollow, but they looked up as she entered.
“You’re… you’re not one of *them*,” the leader said, his voice trembling. “You’re here to help us.” Lena nodded, though her mind raced. Who were *they*? And why had the *Aurora* come here? The man gestured to the console. “The signal—it’s not coming from us. It’s coming from *inside*.” He pointed to a door at the far end of the room, its surface etched with strange symbols. “We tried to shut it down, but it’s… it’s everywhere. It’s in the ship, in the air, in *us*.” His eyes widened. “It’s not a machine. It’s something else. Something *alive*.”
Lena stepped forward, her hand hovering over the door. The symbols glowed faintly, as if responding to her presence. She could feel it—a presence, vast and ancient, pressing against her mind. It wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. It was *watching*. She turned to the group. “What is this place?” The leader hesitated, then whispered, “A tomb. Or a prison. We don’t know which.” The words sent a chill through her. She had to find out the truth, no matter the cost.
As she reached for the door, the lights flickered violently, and the ship shuddered. A low hum filled the air, growing louder, more insistent. The symbols on the door flared, and Lena felt a sudden pull, as if the universe itself were trying to drag her into the unknown. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping into the heart of the mystery that had haunted her for so long.
