Records from the Vault IV – Obelisk 2.319
Access-level 3 classified information. Only for cleared personnel.
Uncharted Zones Expedition Record Log C23.
We landed on a planet we scanned to be rich in uranium-235 in order to resupply. Basic scans of the surface did not indicate any signs of civilisation or life. The planet did not have an active core, hence there was no magnetic field protecting it from the radiation of the sun.
However, a drone sent out reported a strangely artificial object on a desert that spanned an entire continent.
I was part of the team dispatched to it. It was a stone pillar about fifteen metres tall. Strangely, there was a horizontal scar about two metres off the ground which was bubbling. There were no signs of erosion on any surfaces.
High-powered scanning revealed nothing about the material. There were, however, strange markings that criss-crossed over the entire surface, like the beds of long-dried up rivers. They were slightly indented, as though something had occupied them previously.
We attempted to take a sample back, but we were unable to remove even the slightest piece.
Strangely enough, the scan deeming the planet devoid of life was proved wrong here. On the side of the stone structure where the scar bubbled and frothed, a single pink flower bloomed on the ground.
Casper wanted to remove it back to the lab, but I argued against it. We have all heard about the endings to the previous expeditions. Somethings are better left untouched. For all our sakes.
Despite his grumbling, he agreed.
We lifted off soon after, having mined the uranium. The object was strange but not entirely unseen. As I looked back at the shrinking view of the planet in the screen, I thought back to that flower.
Its existence was the only remnants of life on its planet. When I think back on it, I feel a strange feeling of respect.
What stories it must hold within? What sights it must have seen?
These questions will go unanswered, such is the bittersweet beauty of space.
End Log.
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Chronicles of the Voyager I – Flower of Defiance
The Vault was not wrong in what they recorded, but the true story needs to be told. I witnessed it on my Voyage, so I Chronicle it here, for any who may be reading. A story of defiance against fate.
***
The oppressive darkness of the forest was alleviated only by the ivory light from the proud moon overhead. Countless stars shimmered and shined beside it, like the many servants in the court of an emperor. But the time for the appreciation of the beauty of nature was long past.
Survival was my only goal.
I clutched my hand to my side where a piercing wound bled red blood. In my other hand I used my steel machete as a walking stick, staggering forwards like a drunken man. I grit my teeth in defiance of the pain, but despair threatened to consume my mind.
I tried not to think of how deep that wound was, but the thoughts were intrusive.
How long have I even been walking? My mind feels heavy and clouded, as if I have a fever. The trees all look the same in this godforsaken place.
I tried my best to dispel these thoughts, but I felt my will weakening with every passing second. The moon that seemed so majestic now seemed only to be mocking, laughing at my failure along with its myriad celestial attendants. In my delirium, I could have sworn I heard twinkling sounds from the stars, like the twittering laughter of fae.
My hand holding my machete slipped and I fell to a knee. My head bowed, hair flowing over my eyes. With monumental effort, I raised it in the vain hope that I might see the path to safety.
But only the sight of gnarled and twisted roots that writhed and intertwined like countless snakes graced my vision. My breathing was heavy, and my fever was exacerbated by light-headedness as my consciousness slipped. My brow furrowed and my eyes went bloodshot.
Fainting here would mean death. I have to keep going.
This was about more than my own survival. I found myself wishing I didn't know what was at stake. So that I could lay down and rest for a while, simply close my eyes and succumb to the pull of the cold. But I did know. And I couldn't afford to delay any longer.
This was about far more than my own survival.
If only I was less curious, less greedy.
I rued the decisions of my past self who sought knowledge beyond his ken. But it was too late now. The mountainous weight of duty burdened my shoulders.
I knew what was at stake. Despite my valiant efforts at self-delusion, I knew that I would die with regrets if I did not try my absolute hardest. I chuckled despite myself. They say that one's true nature is only revealed when all is stripped away by circumstances out of their control.
Perhaps I'm not as bad of a person as I've acted all these years.
The thought of redemption seemed almost hypocritical. After all I've done, why do I try so hard now? For people I've barely known and civilisations who have scorned me my entire life.
So why? Why do my legs keep moving? Why does my machete still cut down the branches that obstruct my path?
At least they'll feel bad, knowing how much of a Hero I actually was. If I...no. When I make it out of this, a presidential pardon will be the least of my rewards.
I grinned at my imaginations of the faces those damned politicians would make when they found out who saved them. The thought seemed to lighten my mood, and the darkness seemed a tad less ominous than before.
In the back of my mind, I knew logically that my situation was unchanged. But I forced myself not to take that line of thought any further.
I cultivated that spark of energy like one does kindling in a cold winter night. My will was iron, and iron would not bend.
I felt a burst of energy as though adrenaline were injected directly into my veins.
The forest was dense, and the underbrush was thick. The sounds of alien wildlife accompanied me as I moved laboriously onward towards my goal. I was close enough now that I could sense it.
It was like a dot in my peripheral vision, but to my most primal instincts. An itch that seemed to originate within my mind, that only grew stronger as I approached. I used the sharp pain of my piercing wound to ground myself and bring myself back to clarity of mind.
But it wouldn't be that easy.
By this time, I already had an inkling of what it was we found here. I repressed those thoughts with the knowledge gained from my experience.
Which is why I am the only one left.
I grimaced at the loss of my crew, closer to me than family. Dregs of society that had somehow formed a bond with one another that surpassed the limits of our station. But my state of physical and emotional exhaustion prevented the grief from overwhelming me.
I was simply too tired. Still, it wasn't time to rest just yet.
The tickling sensation had slowly grown into a buzzing tinnitus that drowned out all other sounds. I wasn't far now at all.
My headache grew into a migraine that threatened to dominate all of my higher thought. Just as I stepped out of the forest, into a fairly large clearing, it all stopped suddenly.
The silence was a profound change from the assault on my senses just a few seconds prior. I touched my nose, feeling a wet sensation and looked down to see blood.
My vision began to waver hovering between blurriness and sharpness. The moonbeams that illuminated the clearing sounded like the ringing of heavenly bells. The acrid smell of burning came from the shadows in the forest behind me. The chittering of the creatures of the night felt like silk on my skin.
As my senses converged, one single objected remained constant. Feeling like a piece of driftwood in a storm, that object was the lighthouse I used to ground myself without the presence of a horizon.
I swayed on my feet and fell to my knees powerlessly, the combined attack on all my senses robbing me of my balance. I threw up, though I barely even realised it. Tears streamed down my face feeling like molten lava and sounding like gravel. Despite this, I fixed my vision on that constant in desperation.
I was finally here; I could not falter now. All that I had overcome would be in vain if I were to fail here.
It was an obelisk. Reaching into the sky beyond even the tips of the highest tree trunks, it seemed chaotically out of place even to my addled mind. Yet, at the same time, its weathered and worn surface covered in moss felt as in tune with the earth as anything around.
Even the moonlight, in all its proud glory, only served to accentuate the features of the obelisk, as though the celestial powers themselves were insignificant in front of that piece of stone.
There were no markings of engravings on its dark, pebbled surface. Vines crawled all over its surface, seeming to swim and move to my fuddled senses.
No.
My first thoughts coalesced out of incoherence.
They are moving.
I realised that what I dismissed as the ravings of lunacy was in fact the reality of the situation. Slowly coming out of that induced synaesthesia, I was able to appreciate the obelisk properly for the first time.
The vines were in fact moving. They writhed and wriggled in disgusting ways. I couldn't help my concentration from being drawn into the arcane patterns they formed. Bile began to rise in my throat and madness threatened to overwhelm me. But in that madness, those patterns began to make sense.
As quickly as I recovered my senses, I found myself losing them again. This time, it felt like entering the warm embrace of home. A powerful impulse to just let go flowed through me. I relaxed my grip on the machete I had instinctively maintained even through the previous assault, letting it fall to the ground.
Maybe...it wouldn't be...so bad...
My eyelids felt heavy, and the soft grass felt so inviting. Even the sounds of the forest changed, sounding like a lullaby to my ears.
But...wait...
Just as I was ready to enter the darkness of sleep, my left eyelid twitched. After that, my right index finger jolted. Electricity ran down the back of my spine, tensing all my muscles in a spasm as I jolted upright.
My eyes opened wide and I bit down on my tongue, using that sharp pain to centre myself. For the first time since I had got here, I felt true fear. My heart hammered in my chest and my clothes were drenched in cold sweat.
I've had my brushes with death before. But nothing like that.
The insidious nature of those vines was something I had never encountered before. I hurried to avert my gaze, keeping the obelisk just at the edge of my peripheral vision.
My legs were to weak to stand on, so I crawled forward on all fours. The obelisk was on a slightly raised mound at the centre of the clearing, though even that gentle incline felt like a sheer cliff.
I pushed through my exhaustion once again, clawing at clumps of grass to pull myself forwards. Before long, I was within reaching distance of the obelisk.
From this close, having it in my field of view was unavoidable, though strangely enough, despite my proximity, the subtle influence of the vines was even less than before. I wasn't sure what had change, but I had no energy to waste on answers to such questions.
If all works here, then the answers to all our questions will be buried here to be forgotten.
I rested there for a few seconds, taking advantage of the brief respite to repair my ruined body. I had lost count of the amount of times I had simply powered through my exhaustion today.
It's a miracle I'm still in one piece.
The wound in my side decided to make itself felt at that exact moment and I couldn't help a wince.
Well, outwardly in one piece at least.
Deciding I had waited long enough, I staggered to my feet, supporting my weight with the machete held in trembling hands.
I looked at the obelisk. At this point, I was too tired to even feel the fear I felt previous, or the anger I should have. I was just...apathetic. Only my inexplicable sense of duty had carried me this far, and that was the only thing that kept me on my feet.
Enough stalling.
I grit my teeth. Using my free hand, I made a point with all five fingers and dived into the hole on my side. A groan escaped my lips as I contorted my face in pain. It felt as though a lance of hot metal had impaled me, searing my flesh and boiling my blood.
Despite that, I fought to keep my self conscious. I felt around with trembling fingers, each movement sending jolts of pain that spasmed throughout my body. Nevertheless, I did not stop for even a second.
Perhaps seconds, perhaps minutes later, I felt it. The thing that caused my wound. Perhaps the only reason I alone still lived.
I grabbed it with my hands and took a deep breath before yanking with all my strength. A white-hot pain consumed my mind that eclipsed all that I had felt before. My battered senses were overcome once again with a singular sensation that paralyzed even my thoughts.
But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. And with it, a sense of relief permeated my body like a hot shower on a cold day. My body and mind felt lighter, as though relieved of a burden I didn't even know I was carrying. For a moment, I forgot all worries and my exhaustion evaporated like a puddle in the noonday sun.
The slimy feeling in my hand brought me back to reality.
I looked down at the familiar object. About a metre in length, it seemed like a piece of rope. Were it not for the weak spasms of movement as it attempted to extract itself from my grip.
It bore a resemblance to the vines on the obelisk, if they were covered in coagulating blood. Even its movements were similar, dizzyingly chaotic and asymmetric.
This is it.
I thought bitterly. I knew what I perceived was only one piece of a whole, but it seemed so underwhelming. Something so small could cause a problem of such magnitude.
There's a lesson in there, though not one I'll be able to take advantage of.
I took the vine covered in my blood and brought it close to the obelisk. Abruptly, the previously inert object roared to life. A pressure slammed down on my shoulders as though gravity had increased by several orders of magnitude.
But it would take far more than that to put me down. Not when I had come so far.
I raise my hand laboriously, inching the blood-soaked vine closer to its brethren. As it approached the obelisk, a blueish barrier hummed into existence around it. Sparks and crackles of static flew as they came into contact.
But whether the barrier recognised its own kind or for some other reason, I was able to push it through with moderate force.
Lucky, as 'moderate' was around about my physical limit.
All of a sudden, the leading edge of the vine poke through and the barrier popped like a soap bubble, causing me to fall over forwards.
I caught my fall with the vine, leaning against the obelisk with both hands. The blood had spattered around, the vines and the stone sizzling where they came into contact with those drops.
A low keening noise sounded out that I seemed to hear through my bones rather than my ears. My vision shook as my eyes vibrated in their sockets. The forest had gone silent, the instincts of the wildlife having long driven them away from this accursed place.
The vibrations grew and I fell backwards. The bloody vine was plastered to the obelisk and the stone around it had begun to bubble and froth. The rest of the vines wriggled in clear panic, though there was nothing they could do to stop it.
I lay back as a profound relief coursed through me. I had done it. I had actually done it. I let out a chuckle that quickly evolved into a hysterical laugh as I whooped out in joy.
"I did "
My voice was hoarse and unfamiliar from the days of silence.
"I suppose...I can rest now?"
There was no response from the forest, nor from the obelisk. The bubbling reaction was ongoing, though looking at the size of the thing, it would be a while before it would be complete.
"That's none of my concern though. I've done my part. Just, if anyone is out there, remember our story. We don't need a statue or anything like that, just-"
I coughed, crimson red blood staining my trembling hands. The edges of my vision darkened, tunnelling slowly into black.
My voice trembled not from fatigue but from some other, indescribable emotion.
"Just...remember us".
I coughed once more.
"And don't go looking for any obelisks in forests. They're bad luck"
I closed my eyes, and the sounds of the forest faded out.
Wow...I guess I am...
***
As his final thoughts ended, his form collapsed before the obelisk. His motionless form was illuminated solemnly by a ray of moonlight. Time, however, was far more apathetic as it marched onwards unstopped.
His body was decayed and disappeared, subsumed by the soil until no evidence remained of his nameless existence.
That is until a single stalk pushed through the soil above where he died. It was weak, yet somehow it persevered through the harshest of extremes of cold in winter and heat in summer as though having inherited a will of iron.
Though small, once it flowered, it remained in bloom continuously. Its white petals were a of such stark purity that they made the vibrant forest dull in comparison. Yet despite standing out, no creature dared damage it. Perhaps warded off by the slowly disappearing obelisk, or something else entirely, it remained untouched.
Soon, the seasons turned into years that turned into decades, centuries and eventually millennia had passed, yet that flower stood proud. Even millennia soon passed through like the grains of sand in an hourglass, the entire planet reshaping countless times over in the endless cycles of ice ages and sweltering heats.
Eventually, the core of that planet cooled and its magnetic field dissipated, exposing it to the harsh radiation of its sun. Life had long since failed, dying out at one great filter or another over the ages. Mountains rose and fall like tides until they too became static as the tectonic plates fused and the magma beneath cooled without an active core to power its currents.
The planet had become little more than a icy rock surrounded by a pitifully thin film of atmosphere.
Nonetheless, two single things stood out.
An obelisk that bubbled and frothed, pitifully disappearing with each passing second.
And a white lily that stood triumphant and pure against the backdrop of desolation. A white lily whose soul of iron had persevered through eons. Perhaps, the nameless explorer whose grave it marked may never be remembered by the civilisations he saved.
But that white lily remained as evidence that even as life forgot and moved on, the universe bore witness to his struggle and to his triumph.
And so, that white lily stands there, perhaps even to this day. New explorers come and go, marking it as little more than a curiosity. Though all feel in their hearts some indescribable emotion. Respect.
For its defiance against fate.
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