The black of space stretched endlessly beyond the cracked viewport, pierced only by the sickly pulse of a red dwarf sun in the distance. The dropship vibrated with tension as it descended toward the dead moon known in outdated star charts as Epsilon-9. Once a thriving terraforming outpost, it had gone dark eight years prior. No one knew why.
Until last week.
A distress signal, automated and glitching, pulsed out of the void. Four words repeated in a decaying loop:
"Do not wake it."
Lieutenant Elara Vos sat at the edge of her seat, fingers drumming against her rifle. Her black armor was matte and scarred, reflecting none of the flashing warning lights from the cockpit. She didn’t trust the silence. No comms. No atmospheric reports. Not even an echo.
Beside her, Dex stood motionless, eyes glowing faintly blue. The reprogrammed combat bot was seven feet of reactive alloy and embedded ordinance. Loyal. Lethal. And yet, it was humming—a quiet, glitchy tone in its throat.
"Dex, you picking up anything?"
"Environmental integrity: compromised. Radiation nominal. Interior life signs:... undefined."
"Undefined?"
"Affirmative."
Behind them, Dr. Juno Arvad adjusted her field visor, dark curls pulled into a tight knot. The xenobiologist was already scanning the readouts from her handheld. "This place was shut down for a reason. I've read the pre-collapse reports. They were working on something experimental under Sub-Level 6."
"Define 'something,'" Elara said flatly.
"Classified. Even for me."
Toren Kex snorted from the rear hatch, where he was busy prying open a locked weapons crate. "Love a mystery wrapped in radiation and sealed with a death wish."
The ship jolted as it landed. Dust—no, spores—bloomed around the skids. Pale and iridescent.
The station loomed ahead. It was massive, modular, and silent. Half the panels were torn away, exposing steel bones and dark interiors. A single light flickered behind the central gate—green, then red, then dead.
Elara stood. "Full sweep. No splitting up. If this is a trap, I want us eyes-on."
Dex stepped forward and extended a wrist. A hologram flickered to life, showing the station's crude layout. Multiple levels. Energy spikes coming from the sub-structures beneath.
"Power's still running down there," Toren said.
"Then something's still alive," Juno whispered.
Elara led them toward the gate. Each step brought a new sound. A low thrum. The hiss of recycled air.
And beneath it all...
Breathing.
They entered through the side hatch, sealed with rust and emergency foam. Dex forced it open with a hiss of hydraulics. The corridor inside was choked with wires and half-collapsed ceiling tiles. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead like dying insects.
"Switch to internal O2. No telling what’s in the air," Elara ordered.
The team complied. Even Dex’s systems hissed slightly as his filtration shifted.
Juno knelt beside a dried smear on the floor. Not blood—something thicker, with a greenish hue. "This isn’t human."
"Then it’s local," said Toren, his voice suddenly more serious.
They moved deeper, past empty crew quarters and shattered observation domes. Dust floated like snowflakes, undisturbed for years. A broken data console sparked as Elara passed, stuttering a burst of corrupted audio:
"--containment compromised--warning--primary breach detected--"
Juno froze. "Elara, this whole station was supposed to be shut down. There shouldn't be any active systems."
Dex responded before Elara could. "Multiple nodes drawing power below. Reading increased heat signatures beneath Level 6."
They reached a sealed lift at the core of the station. The panel beside it was lit. Flickering.
Elara touched it.
The doors opened.
A stale gust of air greeted them, laced with the scent of metal, rot... and something electric. Something wrong.
"Toren. Lock it behind us," Elara said. "We’re going down."
The lift shuddered as it descended. Floor numbers blinked past in fractured sequences. Juno’s grip on her scanner tightened.
"Elara... the readings just spiked."
"Weapons hot," Elara said. Her voice was calm. Too calm.
At Level 6, the doors creaked open. The hall was dark, save for pulsing lights embedded in the floor—like a heartbeat.
Dex stepped forward, sensors spinning.
Something moved at the end of the hall.
Fast.
"Contact," Dex said flatly.
Elara raised her rifle.
Juno whispered: "We woke it."