The air reeked of ozone and rust, a metallic tang that clung to the back of Lena’s throat. She adjusted her visor, the reinforced glass fogging with each breath. Beyond the cracked hull of the *Erebus*, the planet loomed—a bruise of violet clouds and jagged obsidian spires that pierced the sky like broken teeth. The team had landed three days ago, but nothing about this place felt real. The gravity pulled at their bones, heavier than expected, as if the planet itself wanted them to stay.
“Status report,” Commander Rourke barked, his voice muffled through the comms. Lena glanced at her scanner, its screen flickering with erratic readings. “Energy signatures are off the charts. Whatever’s down there, it’s not natural.” Her fingers tightened around the device, knuckles whitening. The others were already moving, boots crunching over brittle rock as they approached the edge of the canyon. Lena hesitated, her boots sinking slightly into the dark soil. It felt… wrong. Like the ground was alive, shifting beneath her.
“We’re not alone,” muttered Jax, the engineer, his usual sarcasm absent. He crouched, running a gloved hand over the rock face. “This isn’t volcanic. It’s synthetic. Someone built this.” The others froze. Lena’s pulse thrummed in her ears. The planet was supposed to be uninhabitable, a dead relic of some long-dead civilization. But the data didn’t lie. The canyon walls pulsed faintly, a rhythmic glow that matched the erratic beeping of her scanner.
“We need to move,” Rourke said, but his voice was tight, controlled. Lena caught the flicker of fear in his eyes. They’d all seen the reports—expeditions that vanished without a trace, ships that never returned. This wasn’t a routine survey. It was a trap.
The first scream came at dusk. Lena was adjusting the power relay when the sound sliced through the air, high-pitched and guttural. She dropped the tool, heart slamming against her ribs. The others were already running, their boots pounding against the rock as they retreated toward the *Erebus*. Lena hesitated, then sprinted after them, her breath ragged. The canyon walls seemed closer now, the air thick with static. Something was out there—something that didn’t belong.
They made it to the ship, but the cargo bay was empty. The drones they’d deployed earlier were gone, their signal lost. Rourke’s face was pale as he stared at the scanner. “It’s not just the canyon,” he said. “It’s everywhere.” The planet was watching them. Lena could feel it in her bones, a presence that pressed against her mind, whispering in a language she didn’t understand. They had to leave. Now.
But the *Erebus* wasn’t responding. The engines sputtered, then died. Jax cursed, slamming his fist against the control panel. “It’s jamming us. Whatever this is, it’s smart.” Lena’s hands shook as she tried the emergency protocols. Nothing worked. The walls of the ship groaned, as if the planet itself was trying to crush them. The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of voices that didn’t belong to anyone they knew.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Rourke said, his voice steady despite the chaos. “Not until we figure this out.” Lena wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped her. They were running out of time. The planet was waking up, and they were its next victims.
The lights flickered, casting jagged shadows across the cabin. Lena’s scanner flared, its screen exploding with data. A pattern—something ancient, something deliberate. The canyon wasn’t a natural formation. It was a message. A warning. And they’d just triggered it.
“It’s not a trap,” she whispered, realization dawning. “It’s a test.” The others turned to her, eyes wide. Rourke’s jaw tightened. “What kind of test?” She didn’t have an answer, but the planet was no longer silent. It was speaking, and they had to listen.
The ship shuddered as the ground trembled. Lena grabbed the scanner, its glow intensifying. The data was clear now—coordinates, symbols, a path. The canyon wasn’t a dead end; it was a gateway. They had to go deeper. No one argued. The planet had made its choice, and they were its next experiment.
As they descended into the canyon, the whispers grew louder, more coherent. Lena could almost understand them, like fragments of a language lost to time. The air thickened, charged with energy that made her skin tingle. The walls pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, and for a moment, she felt… connected. Like she wasn’t just observing the planet—she was part of it.
They found the structure at dawn. A massive archway of black stone, etched with symbols that shimmered like liquid. The air around it was still, as if the planet itself held its breath. Rourke stepped forward, his hand hovering over the carvings. “This is it,” he said. “Whatever this is, it’s real.” Lena nodded, her fingers brushing the stone. It was warm, alive. The whispers surged, and suddenly, she understood.
The planet wasn’t a dead world. It was a guardian, a keeper of something ancient. The canyon was its heart, and they’d disturbed its sleep. The test wasn’t about survival—it was about responsibility. The planet had chosen them, and now they had to decide what to do with that power.
As the archway pulsed, Lena knew their journey was just beginning. The Last Horizon wasn’t a place—it was a choice. And they were the ones who had to make it.
