A red sun loomed darkly over the cracked expanse of sulfuric plains. Hana staggered forward, her stark white bodysuit shimmering in the oppressive heat. A fine layer of ash drifted like snowflakes across the horizon, casting an uneasy glow over the strange alien terrain. Her glossy helmet, the black visor shielding her from the unrelenting radiation, glinted faintly as her breaths echoed within its confines. The landscape stretched infinitely—a wasteland of skeletal ruins forgotten by time, half-submerged in golden dunes and mists of phosphorus gas.
“Signal distortion detected. Please recalibrate,” a soft synthetic voice murmured in her helmet. Hana ignored it. She wasn’t about to stop now, not when she was this close to her objective.
She clutched a blinking circular beacon strapped to her forearm—her lifeline. Its LED glowed with a faint teal hue, pulsating rhythmically as it guided her further into the ruined maw of what had once been the thriving metropolis of Ventra Prime. Staring up, she saw a towering spire piercing the hazy sky, its former majesty reduced to jagged edges silhouetted by columns of distant fire. Hana clenched her fists. Somewhere inside that spire—deep within the crumbling ruins—lay what she’d risked everything for.
“Evacuate now or face bio-hazardous destabilization,” the synthetic voice announced again, now edged with a warning tone. She didn’t answer. Her team hadn’t hesitated to abandon her during the disaster, leaving her stranded. She had no intention of obeying their protocols now.
But then, a low rumble rolled through the ground. Hana froze. The lights strung from her oxygen tanks up to her shoulders flickered white as if sensing something… alive. The earth trembled beneath her boots, and then she saw them—shadows in the plume of phosphorescent mist.
They emerged without sound—skeletal figures with elongated limbs and spines that gleamed like obsidian in the false twilight. Their heads were crowned with jagged mandibles, their eyes reduced to glittering, empty pits. The “Watchers.” Hana could feel their predatory gaze fixed upon her. She had been warned about these creatures, but hearing stories about them was one thing; being hunted by them was another.
She activated the stasis module embedded in her suit’s side. A faint hum and a brief pulse enveloped her in a translucent energy field, providing temporary protection. But she knew it wouldn’t hold for long. With a sharp inhale, she bolted toward the spire. Time was running out.
The Watchers gave chase, their speed unnatural as they skittered across the terrain, their razor-like appendages slashing at the corrupted air. Hana felt the ground crumble beneath her, sinking with every desperate step. Ash rose like a storm cloud in her wake, and the faint glimmer of the beacon strapped to her arm began to flicker erratically.
“Reboot sequence initiated…” The AI chimed again, almost apologetically. She slapped the device, muttering curses under her breath.
Fragments From Before
Her mind flickered back to whispers from her former team—Commander Rykker’s baritone voice breaking through the anticipation-heavy silence of their descent to the planet.
“Recover the Orb. Only the Orb. Everything else is expendable,” he had said, his steel-gray eyes narrowing beneath his weathered uniform’s metallic crest. His chiseled face betrayed no emotion, while the others dared not question such an absolute order. The Orb—the mysterious energy core discovered beneath Ventra Prime’s ruins—was rumored to power entire systems, but at what cost? Nobody had asked.
Hana had been the team’s cartography expert then, her slight frame hidden within a standard-issue cyan jumpsuit, her hair tied into a braid that reminded her of childhood summers by Earth’s long-gone bioluminescent seas. What a far cry her current reality was—alone on a dying world, with the echoes of her betrayal reverberating across her every step.
She clenched her teeth as those memories threatened to distract her. The Orb wasn’t just energy: it was survival. Her survival. Nobody else’s.
The Tower of Shards
The air thinned as she approached the spire’s maw, a jagged aperture large enough to swallow her whole. One of the Watchers lunged at her, its claws grazing the suit’s protective barrier. Sparks danced for a split second before the barrier collapsed, sending a jolt through her body. Her heart raced as adrenaline surged. She whipped out a compact energy blade stationed at her hip, its bright white arc slicing through the creature’s limb. It recoiled, emitting a shriek that rattled Hana’s very core.
“One step closer,” she panted. Her boots crunched over glass-like fragments as she stumbled through the spire’s entrance. The dim ambient light flickered over massive walls adorned with intricate carvings—ancient glyphs depicting stars, serpents, and infinite lattices of worlds long forgotten.
Ahead of her, deep within the tower’s heart, a pulsating blue glow emanated. The Orb. Her visor darkened slightly to adjust to the intensity, and her breaths quickened. But as she stepped closer, the Watchers poured in from behind, their guttural clicks reverberating through the chamber. She had mere seconds.
The Choice
Hana dashed forward and grabbed the Orb. It hummed in her hands, cold yet vibrantly alive, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. As the Watchers approached, there was no time to contemplate or hesitate. She activated the emergency warp module on her left gauntlet. A blinding sphere of light engulfed her body just as the creatures closed in, their claws slicing the air she had occupied just a breath prior.
And then—silence. She was gone, a lone survivor carrying the hope, or perhaps the curse, of an ancient and forgotten power.
Somewhere beyond the wasteland’s horizon, the red sun continued its slow descent, indifferent to the secrets still buried beneath Ventra Prime.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Cosplay Inspiration: Sleek White Sci-Fi Costume with Astronaut Vibes
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