The sky above Virelia burned with a sickly green hue, casting an eerie glow over the cracked earth. Kaela Voss adjusted her visor, the thin plastic humming as it filtered the toxic air. Her boots sank into the dust, each step releasing a faint hiss of trapped gas. The colony’s perimeter lights flickered, their glow swallowed by the planet’s oppressive darkness. She tightened her grip on the scanner, its screen blinking with erratic readings. Something was wrong.
“This isn’t right,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the helmet. The other scientists had dismissed her warnings—overzealous data, they’d said. But the soil samples, the air composition, the way the vines coiled like living wires beneath the surface… it all screamed imbalance. She crouched, fingers brushing a tuft of iridescent foliage. It recoiled, pulsing faintly, as if aware of her touch.
A sudden crack split the silence. Kaela froze. The sound came again, deeper this time, like a stone rolling across metal. She turned, scanning the horizon. Nothing but shadow. Then a flicker—movement in the distance. Her breath quickened. The colony’s drones had been failing for days, their signals dropping without explanation. Was it a malfunction? Or something else?
“Kaela!” A shout echoed from the base camp. She didn’t wait for the second call. The ground trembled as she ran, her boots slapping against the dust. The camp’s lights flared, casting jagged shadows across the domes. Her team stood in a cluster, their faces pale under the harsh glow. “What’s happening?” she demanded.
“The reactors,” said Jarek, his voice tight. “They’re… pulsing. Like they’re alive.” He gestured to the central generator, its surface rippling faintly. Kaela’s stomach dropped. The reactors were supposed to be stable, their energy output calibrated to sustain the colony. But now they looked like some grotesque organ, throbbing in time with the planet’s unnatural rhythms.
“We need to shut them down,” she said, but Jarek shook his head. “It’s not that simple. The controls are… unresponsive. It’s like the system’s fighting us.” A low hum filled the air, vibrating in her bones. The reactors’ glow intensified, casting the camp in an otherworldly blue. Kaela’s scanner flared, its readings spiking wildly. She glanced at the team—fear etched into every face. They’d come to study Virelia, to carve a future from its desolation. Now it felt like the planet was carving them instead.
The ground shuddered again, this time harder. A crack split the soil near the reactor, spewing a plume of black smoke. Kaela stumbled back, her pulse roaring. “Get to the shelter!” she shouted, but the words were swallowed by a deafening roar. The reactors exploded in a cascade of light, their energy surging into the sky. For a moment, Virelia’s green haze turned white, then collapsed inward, swallowing the camp in darkness.
When the light returned, the world had changed. The air was heavier, charged with an electric tension. Kaela’s visor flickered, its display scrambled. She crawled from the debris, her limbs trembling. The camp was gone—reduced to smoldering ruins. Somewhere in the distance, a low vibration pulsed, steady and deliberate. It wasn’t the planet anymore. It was something else. Something waiting.
She stood, brushing dust from her suit. The scanner was useless now, its screen dark. But she didn’t need it. The air itself felt different, as though the planet had exhaled and left behind a new kind of silence. Kaela turned toward the horizon, where the trees—no, the vines—swayed in perfect unison, their movements too synchronized to be natural. She took a step forward, her boots crunching over broken metal. Whatever this was, it wasn’t over. Not yet.
The first scream came at dawn. Kaela froze, her hand on the hilt of her knife. The sound was human, raw and desperate, echoing through the valley. She moved silently, her breath shallow. The vines parted as she approached, their iridescent leaves shimmering in the pale light. At the base of a massive tree—a structure that wasn’t a tree at all—stood a figure. Their suit was torn, the visor cracked. Kaela recognized Jarek’s voice, but his face was hidden beneath the debris.
“Help me,” he rasped. His hand clutched a jagged piece of metal, its edge still glowing. Kaela hesitated. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been arguing with the others, dismissing her warnings. Now he was here, alone, his confidence shattered. She reached for him, but the ground trembled again. The vines coiled around his legs, pulling him back. His scream cut off as he vanished into the darkness.
Kaela ran. The trees blurred around her, their trunks pulsing with a faint bioluminescence. The air smelled metallic, like blood and rust. She didn’t know where she was going—only that staying was worse. A sudden burst of light ahead made her stop. A clearing. In the center stood a structure, half-buried in the earth. It wasn’t human. It was organic, its surface covered in ridges that moved like breathing skin. Kaela’s breath hitched. This wasn’t a planet. It was a living thing, and she’d just stepped into its heart.
The ground shuddered again, this time with purpose. The structure groaned, its ridges shifting. Kaela backed away, her mind racing. The reactors, the vines, the screams—everything pointed to one truth. Virelia wasn’t a dead world. It was awake. And it had been waiting for them.
She turned and ran, the clearing fading behind her. The planet’s pulse echoed in her chest, a rhythm she couldn’t escape. Somewhere, a voice whispered in her mind, not spoken but felt. A warning. A promise. Kaela didn’t know which terrified her more. The silence of the dead world, or the voice of the living one.
