The outpost smelled of rust and stale air, as though it had been sealed off from the world for years, though their nav logs said it was active only weeks ago.
Jonas swept his flashlight across the main corridor. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beam, but no footprints disturbed the floor. "No signs of struggle," he muttered. "No blood, no scorch marks. Just… nothing."
Mara nudged an overturned mug with her boot. The cold liquid had dried into a dark stain on the floor. "They were here. Eating, drinking… and then gone. Like the world just swallowed them."
Liora crouched beside a workstation, flipping through a scattered stack of logs. The papers crackled, brittle at the edges. She frowned, skimming. "Last entries talk about tremors. Unexplained seismic events. One crew member wrote about… whispers in the soil."
She looked up, her face pale. "Whispers. Like what Eris hears."
Jonas snapped, "Don't start blaming him."
But Eris wasn't listening. He had drifted into the control chamber, where a cracked viewport revealed the valley beyond. His gaze locked onto the ground outside, where faint red lines pulsed beneath the soil, snaking outward like veins.
"They didn't leave," Eris whispered. "The ground took them."
Mara bristled. "That's insane."
A sound cut her off—a faint metallic scrape echoing through the empty halls. All four froze.
Jonas raised his gun. "We're not alone."
The scrape came again, closer this time. Then a slow, dragging thump. Something heavy moving across the floor just beyond sight.
Mara's voice broke into a hiss. "Crew member? Survivor?"
The answer came not in words, but in a low, trembling hum that rattled the glass in the frames.
Eris stepped toward the sound, his face hollow, his eyes far away. "No. Not a survivor. A remnant."
The lights flickered.
And the scrape drew nearer.