The ramp lowered with a groan, spilling light into the crimson haze.
Hayes was the first to step out, his boots sinking into soft, iron-rich dust. The sound echoed hollow in his helmet, like walking across the bones of a dead world. He paused, scanning the endless desert, broken only by jagged cliffs and distant storms swirling like bruises on the horizon.
"History in the making," he muttered, though his tone carried no pride—only suspicion.
Marquez followed, visor reflecting the pale sun. "No movement. No life signs. Just… silence."
Okafor lingered at the ramp's edge, hesitant. "Feels wrong. Like the air itself is watching us."
Daniel descended last, the crystal throbbing faintly in his chest. The instant his boots hit the soil, the pulse synced with the ground beneath him. He staggered. His ears filled with a low vibration—like a heartbeat buried deep beneath Mars itself.
---
Signs in the Dust
The crew spread out, setting markers for orientation. Marquez ran a scanner across the surface. "Trace elements consistent with iron oxide, silicon… but there's interference. Some kind of signal bouncing underground."
Okafor froze mid-step. "Look at this."
In the dust stretched faint patterns, not from wind or storms—lines and arcs, etched with geometric precision. Symbols.
Hayes knelt, brushing the red grit with a gloved hand. "Not natural. Somebody—or something—marked this place long before we got here."
Daniel swallowed hard. The crystal flared, and for a moment the symbols glowed faintly, as if responding to his presence.
---
The Whispers
The wind carried more than just dust. Static filled their comms, then faint voices—fragmented, metallic, yet unmistakably deliberate.
"…arrival… incomplete…"
"…the key… awakens…"
Marquez's eyes widened. "Tell me you all heard that."
Okafor's voice cracked. "It's not in the comms—it's in our helmets. Direct feed."
Hayes straightened, scanning the horizon. "Back to the ship. Now."
But Daniel didn't move. His eyes locked onto a distant ridge where the dust shimmered unnaturally. The whispers in his head grew louder, calling his name, pulling him forward.
He whispered back, "What are you?"
The wind fell silent. The answer came not in words, but in a surge of heat from the crystal that nearly drove him to his knees.
---
The crew retreated into the ship, shaken. Daniel remained at the ramp's edge, staring at the alien markings etched in the dust.
Mars wasn't just a destination. It was waiting for him.