Clouds broke open beneath them, revealing vast oceans that gleamed green under the alien sun, and endless stretches of forest-colored land. The view was breathtaking—terrifying in its beauty.
"Oh god… the gravity's so different from where I trained," Janet muttered, hands gripping the controls as the ship bucked violently.
"What about anti-gravity?" Mila shouted over the alarms.
Janet slammed a switch. Nothing. "System's down."
"Autopilot?" James added quickly.
"It's down too." Janet's voice was tight, clipped.
David groaned, his face pale. "I should've stayed home…"
"Ok, guys. I got this." Janet's voice sharpened, forcing confidence into her tone. She needed them calm—needed herself calm—as the ship rattled harder, sparks flickering from the ceiling.
They hadn't planned to land yet. The probe was supposed to scout, the systems were supposed to guide them, but none of it mattered anymore. The planet had them in its grip. And Janet had one chance to make sure they didn't die in the next sixty seconds.
The nose of the ship dipped toward the sea, waves surging up like hungry mouths. The AI's voice cut in, maddeningly calm:
"Impact in thirty seconds."
"Straight into the ocean?!" David cried, voice cracking.
"Not today," Janet hissed, slamming the manual override. Engines sputtered, then roared in uneven bursts. The ship lurched sideways, the horizon spinning sickeningly.
"Hold on!"
The water fell away, replaced by a blur of coastline. Trees. Rock. Land.
"Brace!" Janet yelled.
The ship skimmed the alien sea, throwing up geysers of green spray, before slamming belly-first onto sand.
The jolt slammed them against their restraints, metal shrieking in protest. Then came the forest—trees snapping like toothpicks as the ship carved its way inland.
CRASH.
The hull screamed, sparks showering the cabin, until finally, with one last, bone-jarring jolt, the ship screeched to a halt.
For a heartbeat, nothing. Just the groan of twisted metal, the hiss of smoke, the flicker of failing lights.
Then the alarms returned, blaring through the cabin.
Mila unclipped her harness with shaking hands, her chest heaving. They were alive. Bruised, battered, but alive. The ship, however, was not. Cracks split across the cabin wall, faint daylight spilling through.
They had landed.
Not where they wanted. Not how they planned.
But they were here.
And outside… Primora waited.
Guys? My leg, it hurts," Stacy winced, clutching her thigh.
"Mine too," David added, his voice tight.
"It's the gravity difference," Janet explained quickly. "Activate the anti-gravity on your suits—button on your chest plates. Do it now."
A series of faint clicks followed as each astronaut pressed the recessed command. Their boots lightened instantly, the crushing weight on their bodies easing as the suits compensated for the planet's pull.
"Is everyone alright?" Janet asked, scanning them one by one.
Stacy breathed hard but nodded. "I think so…"
"Yeah. Better," David muttered.
"Holy…" James whispered. He stood by the window, staring out at what awaited them.
Just beyond the wreckage lay a shoreline of pale, silken grains that shimmered like glass dust beneath the alien sun. Waves of green water lapped against it, rolling in gentle rhythms, their crests glowing faintly as though bioluminescent.
Beyond the shore stretched a vast forest, but nothing about it resembled Earth. Towering structures grew in twisting spirals, their trunks a copper hue, their canopies wide fans of translucent teal leaves that caught and scattered light like stained glass.
Some trees bent toward the sea, their roots snaking into the water like veins. Between them pulsed clusters of bulbous plants that glowed faintly from within, as if harboring hidden fireflies.
The forest was alive—alien, beautiful, and unnerving.
"It's real," Mila whispered, her breath fogging the helmet glass. "Aliens."
Her chest tightened. For years she'd stared at the stars, wondering if anything waited out there. Now she was staring directly at proof: a world bursting with life, unlike anything she could have imagined.
"Can we jumpstart this ship?" Stacy asked suddenly, tearing her eyes from the view.
"Not now," Janet said, scanning her console. "AI's running diagnostics and starting repairs. The damages are… significant. It'll take at least seventy-six hours."
"Seventy-six hours?!" David's voice cracked. "Are you kidding me?"
"Ah…" Janet sighed.
"Guys?" Mila's voice cut in, this time from outside the ship. Both she and James had slipped through the airlock, their boots crunching against the alien shore.
Their footsteps sank lightly into the strange sand. It felt firmer than Earth's, almost rubbery beneath their soles, leaving crisp, defined impressions that shimmered briefly before fading.
Right in front of them, something moved.
It was a creature the size of a chair, its body a disturbing fusion of crab and octopus. Six jointed legs scuttled across the ground while tentacle-like appendages writhed from its shell.
"What… what are those?" James breathed, half in awe, half in horror.
It scuttled across the sand on jointed legs like a crab, but trailing behind were writhing, flexible limbs like a squid. Its eyes shimmered faintly, reflecting the alien sunlight.
"Is that… a crab mixed with a squid?" Stacy muttered, half in awe, half in horror.
Nobody spoke as they watched the creature pause, twitch its limbs, then dart back into the waves with startling speed.
"It doesn't matter—it's gone," Mila said, though her gaze was already pulled toward the massive forest. The canopy shifted, alive with sounds—clicks, chirps, and distant howls. The planet wasn't just alive. It was loud.
"Atmosphere scan complete," Janet reported from inside. "Perfect nitrogen-oxygen mix. No toxins detected. You can take off your masks."
They exchanged a glance. Then, one by one, they pressed the release. Their helmets shimmered, dissolving into liquid-like layers that retracted back into their suits.
For the first time in history, humans breathed air not of Earth.
The air was warm, tinged with something sharp and metallic, but breathable.
James grinned, pulling in a deep breath. "Unbelievable."
"This is it," Mila whispered, voice trembling. "This is the step humanity's been waiting for."
"Alright, guys," Mila said suddenly, energy returning to her voice. "While we wait… how about we walk around? Get inside a little?"
"No," Janet said firmly, shaking her head. "We don't know enough yet."
James, standing beside Mila, smirked. "Then we'll be cautious. Weapons, rations, backup gear. We'll be fine." He shot Mila a look. "Right?"
"Right." She nodded eagerly.
Janet's brow furrowed, but finally she sighed. "Fine. You all can go—but stay close to the ship. I'll remain here in case it needs anything."
"Yes!" James exclaimed, pumping his fist. Mila's heart leapt with the same excitement, and even Stacy cracked a small smile despite the tension.
David lingered by the hatch, his face pale.
"You're not coming?" Mila asked.
"No. I…" He trailed off.
"David," James pressed, "don't waste this. It's not every day you set foot on a new world."
David hesitated, fear and awe warring in his expression. Finally, with a shaky breath, he nodded. "Alright. I'll go."
Everyone got their weapons ready, packed food and water, and now it was time—they were about to step into the alien forest. David lingered at the edge, staring at the shadowy expanse. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, he thought. But the trees didn't look immediately dangerous, and they had weapons if anything showed up.
"Alright," Mila said, voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. "Here we go."