Author’s Note: Thank you for joining me on this journey. I plan to publish my stories here first, then eventually move them to Amazon or the like. Your comments and suggestions are very welcome!

And a special note to those who joined this story early. I have embedded the “Prologue” here, so if you have already read it you can skip ahead to the new material.

---

The sky is burning.

Ash falls in thick, choking sheets as she races through the ruins of her once-great city, her breath ragged and shallow. The ground trembles beneath her clawed feet, fissures cracking open like jagged wounds, spewing molten fire into the air. She feels the heat at her back—relentless, consuming—and knows that the world she has known is ending.

Her hands—scaled, feathered, long, and agile—clutch the smooth, spiraling device, pressing it close to her chest. It pulses faintly, a cold rhythm against her skin, like a heartbeat, as if the thing is alive. In some ways, it is. It always has been. It’s not the cause of the destruction, not directly, but she knows with certainty that it has led them here to this moment. The thing has taken so much already—her people, her world. Now, there is only her—the last survivor.

Ahead, past the twisted towers made of bone-like shells, where the organic structures once rose like vast, spiraling seashells toward the sky, she sees the ship. It waits, silent and alive, its surface gleaming like polished coral in the fiery glow of the horizon. The vessel isn’t metal; they never used metal. Everything her kind built was alive, grown from the sea, from the forests, shaped with patience and craft over millennia. Now, it is all being torn apart by forces they could never have understood, forces unleashed because of the device in her hands.

She quickens her pace, feathers slick with ash and sweat, the air too thick to breathe. She can still hear the distant cries of her kin, their voices swallowed by the cacophony of the planet’s dying throes. She dares not look back. She can’t.

The ship’s entrance opens at her approach, and she stumbles inside, the organic walls shifting to cradle her as if sensing her desperation. She slams her hand against the panel, and the ship lurches, beginning its pre-programmed escape sequence. It is a stolen vessel, one no longer meant for her, but none of that matters now. No one is left to stop her.

As the ship ascends, the earth below shudders, the ground collapsing into itself in great waves of destruction. She watches from the viewport as her world tears apart in silence. It is too late to save it. It had been too late long before she ever thought to run.

She looks down at the device in her hands. The ancient artifact—older than her species, older than any record of time—glows faintly, indifferent to the death and chaos it has sown. She doesn’t know where it came from or what it truly is. But she knows it brought knowledge—knowledge they were never meant to wield, knowledge that shattered their understanding of life, time, and existence itself.

She had once believed it was a gift.

Now, as she hurtles away from the dying world, a part of her wonders if it has always been a curse.

The ship breaks through the atmosphere, rising into the blackness of space. Below, the planet crumbles, its surface a mass of boiling fire and collapsing seas. Given time, it will heal. Life always returns, always finds a way. But it won’t be her kind. Their chapter is over.

Ahead lies Mars, cold and barren, the destination she has chosen for her exile. There, she will bury the device, hide it where no one will ever find it—or so she hopes. It will rest on that lifeless rock, forgotten by the universe, waiting.

As she slips into the silence of space, she closes her eyes, feeling the hum of the ship, the pulse of the artifact, and the weight of all that has been lost.

She is alone now—the last of her kind.

---

The steady hum of the habitat’s generator reverberated through the dining module as the survey team sat around the metal table. Trays of rehydrated eggs and cups of powdered coffee were spread before them. Outside, the dusty Martian landscape stretched on endlessly under a pale orange sky. The morning routine on Mars had become almost second nature after months of working at the drill sites, even though the isolation weighed on them.

Samantha Torres tapped her fork impatiently against the rim of her tray. “So, what’s the plan today? More drilling at Dome 3? Or are we actually going to hit something fun for once?”

Deia Ramos glanced down at her tablet, reviewing the day’s assignments. “More drilling,” she said, swiping through the data. “We’re making good progress at Dome 2. We’re getting some interesting subsurface readings—could be something deeper.”

Jason Cole leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Great. More drilling in the same spot. Just what I signed up for—months of poking at dirt. I’m starting to forget what real air feels like.”

“You forget how to breathe back on Earth already?” Sam grinned as she tossed a packet of powdered creamer into her coffee. “Come on, Jason. This is Mars! Stop complaining. We could be the first ones to find something big.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason muttered, rubbing his face. “Except we’re not finding anything big. Just rocks. Lots of rocks.”

Deia smiled to herself, used to their banter by now. Sam was the impatient one—always ready to jump into the next task, push things a little harder, dig a little deeper. Jason, on the other hand, was their team’s resident pessimist. He liked to gripe about the work, but Deia knew he was just as dedicated as any of them. His skill kept the machines running, even when he pretended not to care.

“Dome 2’s got potential,” Deia said, taking a sip of her bitter coffee. “If we hit the depth we’re aiming for, we might finally get to see what these readings are picking up. We’ve got a couple more domes we can try after, but this is our best shot for now.”

“Still think we should be drilling at Dome 5,” Sam said, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. “That site’s got better readings. It’s just waiting for us.”

“Dome 5’s for next week,” Deia replied, unfazed. “We’re working through this systematically. Rushing around and hitting random domes isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Sam shook her head, grinning. “See, that’s your problem, Deia. You’re too careful. Sometimes you’ve just gotta go with your gut.”

Jason snorted, picking up his tray. “Yeah, except your gut’s going to get us stuck if we keep drilling like maniacs. I’m the one fixing everything when it breaks, remember?”

Sam waved him off, rolling her eyes. “Please. I’d like to see you last one day without me around.”

Jason leaned back and crossed his arms, pretending to think. “You know, I might actually enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Okay, enough,” Deia said, standing up. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us. Suit up and get ready—we’re headed to Dome 2. Let’s see if today’s the day we hit something worth celebrating.”

Sam stood up quickly, flashing a mischievous grin. “You can bet on it. Last one to the transport has to clean the filters tonight!” Without waiting for a reply, she dashed out the door, helmet in hand.

Jason groaned, watching her sprint away. “She’s got way too much energy for this planet.”

Deia chuckled, pulling her helmet off the wall. “You’d miss it if she didn’t. Let’s get moving. Dome 2’s waiting.”

They suited up in silence, the weight of the work ahead settling over them as they made their way to the transport. The drive to the drill domes wasn’t long, but the sight of the landscape—the same red dust, the same jagged rocks stretching out in all directions—made every trip feel endless. They had been working at multiple domes for months now, drilling methodically at various points on the Martian surface in search of anything valuable.

The domes were massive, protective structures designed to shield their drilling equipment from Mars’ thin atmosphere, temperature swings, and radiation. Underneath each dome, the team worked to drill deep into the surface, hoping to find something worth the years of effort it had taken to get here. So far, they mainly encountered mundane mineral samples—important for geological data but not the groundbreaking discovery they were all hoping for.

As the transport bounced along the rocky terrain, Sam leaned forward, staring at the towering structure of Dome 2 growing larger in the distance. “You ever think about what’s under all this?” she asked, her voice crackling through the comms. “I mean, like, really think about it? We could be digging through the remains of some ancient Martian civilization and not even know it.”

Deia smiled behind her visor. “You’re letting your imagination run wild again, Sam. There’s no evidence of anything like that.”

Sam shrugged, though her grin was evident in her tone. “Yeah, but still. It’s Mars! Anything could be possible.”

“Like more rocks,” Jason chimed in from the back seat, the hum of the transport drowning out his more sarcastic tone.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Sam continued. “One of these domes is going to lead us to something big. Something no one’s ever seen before.”

“We’ll see,” Deia said, keeping her eyes on the dome. “But today, we’re focused on Dome 2. Let’s stick to the plan.”

Dome 2 stood like a massive glass shield, protecting the drilling equipment. Inside, the drill hummed, its mechanical arm poised over the ground, ready to dig.

Sam bounced in her seat as the transport cycled through the airlock at the dome’s entrance tunnel. When the transport was through, it had barely stopped when Sam was already out the door, racing toward the platform. “Come on, slowpokes!” she called over the comms, her voice full of excitement.

Deia followed at a slower pace, shaking her head. “She never slows down.”

Jason climbed out of the transport, adjusting his toolkit with a sigh. “One day she’s going to wear herself out, and I’m not fixing her like I fix the drill.”

Inside the dome the familiar sound of their boots clanging against the metal flooring of the drill platform echoed through the space. The drill stood waiting, the latest in a series of drills they’d used to bore through the Martian surface. Data screens blinked with the latest readings—nothing extraordinary yet, but they were getting close.

“All right,” Deia said, checking the controls. “Jason, make sure everything’s running smoothly. Sam, keep an eye on the sensors. Let’s get started.”

“You got it,” Sam replied, already toggling through the readouts on her tablet. “I’m ready. Let’s dig.”

Jason muttered under his breath as he adjusted the drill’s hydraulics. “If this thing breaks again, I’m sending in a maintenance request to Earth and calling it a day.”

Deia smiled, her eyes scanning the data coming in. “Let’s just hope today’s the day we get a breakthrough.”

As the drill roared to life, the ground trembled beneath their feet. The compacted and tough Martian soil resisted only for a moment before giving way. Sam’s eyes flickered across the screens, tracking the depth as the drill bore down.

“We’re going deeper than yesterday,” Sam said, her voice tense with anticipation. “Fingers crossed, people.”

Deia stared at the numbers, feeling that familiar twinge of excitement in her chest. Today would be the day.

“Here we go,” she muttered, her hands steady on the controls. “Let’s see what Mars has in store for us.”

---

The vast mining dome stretched overhead, a translucent bubble that blurred the harsh Martian afternoon into an endless red haze. Inside, the steady hum of machinery vibrated through the ground, a sound that had become a constant background noise for the team of surveyors working below.

Jason stood at the edge of the drilling platform, eyes narrowed at the readouts flickering on his handheld display. The drill was deep, far below the surface, boring into layers of ancient rock and dust that hadn’t been touched by human hands until now.

“Problem, boss?” came the voice of Sam, standing a few meters away with her tablet in hand. Her gaze flicked between Jason and the drill rig.

Jason exhaled sharply, tapping a finger against the screen. “The drill’s hit something.” He adjusted the settings, trying to bring up more data, but the feed was a scrambled mess of erratic signals and conflicting readings.

“Rock layer?” Sam asked, stepping closer to peer over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t be anything dense down at this depth.”

“That’s the thing,” Jason muttered. “It’s not rock. But it’s not… anything I recognize either. Look at the radar.”

Sam squinted at the display. The drill’s path was clearly visible as a thin, straight line descending deep into the Martian soil. But where it had stopped—just over two hundred meters down—there was a faint, ghostly outline of something that shouldn’t be there. It was too smooth, too symmetrical. And it was big.

“What the hell is that?” Sam murmured, her brow furrowing as she zoomed in on the image. The object was blurry, distorted by the layers of dust and rock between it and the surface, but the shape was unmistakable. The radar couldn’t pick up fine details, but the general outline was eerie—almost bird-like, with long, sweeping curves that suggested wings folded close to its body. The more Sam stared, the more she could make out the suggestion of a head-like structure, slender and graceful, with a sharp beak-like protrusion.

“It’s huge,” Jason said quietly. “And it’s not metal. The drill’s hitting it, but it’s not penetrating.”

“Not metal?” Sam frowned. “What the hell is it then? We haven’t picked up any significant mineral deposits in this sector. Just dust and loose sediment.”

Jason shook his head, frustration and curiosity warring in his mind. “No idea. We need to get a closer look.”

Sam’s eyes flicked back to the shape on the radar. It was too perfect to be natural, too deliberate. “You think this is… artificial?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. He wasn’t sure what to think. Mars was supposed to be dead. Barren. Sure, they’d found evidence of ancient water, long-gone rivers and oceans. But nothing like this.

“Whatever it is, we need to find out,” he said at last. “Shut down the drill. We don’t want to damage it until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Sam nodded, heading toward Deia at the drill control.

“I’ll have the ground-penetrating radar recalibrate for a clearer image,” Deia yells over her shoulder. “Maybe we can get more detail on the structure.”

Jason watched her go, then turned back to the drilling site. The drill tower stood tall and silent now, a skeletal framework of metal against the red haze outside the dome. The hole it had bored was deep, but it hadn’t gotten through whatever was down there. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them making any sense.

Moments later, Sam returned, her face tight with tension. “I’ve got something,” she said, holding up her tablet. The image had cleared slightly—enough to make out more of the shape below. It was massive, at least fifty meters across, buried beneath layers of sediment. The outline was sharper now, and the bird-like resemblance was even more uncanny. The wings were folded in, tight against its body, and the head was tilted slightly downward, as if it were resting.

This doesn’t look like a bird.

Her thoughts raced as her eyes traced the jagged edges of the object. The wings weren’t graceful, not like any bird she’d ever seen. They were too thick, too strong, and the head—if that’s what it was—seemed wrong, elongated, almost… menacing.

It looks like a dragon.

Sam swallowed the thought, shaking her head. She couldn’t say it out loud.

“This doesn’t look geological,” Sam said softly. “It’s organic. Or at least, it looks like it. Those shapes… they’re too smooth. Like something grown, not built.”

Jason felt a chill run down his spine. “There’s no way something like this should be here,” he said. “We’ve scanned this region before. Nothing like this ever showed up.”

Sam stared at the image, her fingers tapping anxiously against the edge of her tablet. “Maybe it’s buried too deep for standard scans. But that doesn’t explain why the drill couldn’t get through. If it’s not metal, what the hell is it made of?”

Before Jason could answer, the comm unit on his belt crackled to life. “Cole, this is base control. We’re picking up some strange readings from your location. Is everything alright?”

Jason raised the comm to his mouth. “We’ve hit something,” he said. “Something big. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s stopping the drill cold.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Copy that.  Stand by.”

Jason lowered the comm, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing in on him. Whatever they had found wasn’t supposed to be there. And yet, it was.

Sam was staring at the image again, her voice barely above a whisper. “You think… this could be alien?”

Jason didn’t want to say it out loud, but the thought had already crossed his mind. This thing was buried so deep, hidden for god knows how long. It had been here far longer than humanity had ever dreamed of setting foot on Mars. And if it wasn’t natural… if it was built, or grown, by something else… And it’s not a bird.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Jason said grimly. “Whatever this is, it changes everything.”

---

The ship’s soft hum fades as it settles onto the Martian surface. Furling its wings, the living hull quivering slightly as it adjusts to the alien soil beneath it. She stands at the airlock, taloned fingers hovering over the controls, knowing this will be the last time the ship breathes.

Beyond the translucent walls, the desolate landscape stretches in all directions—a barren, red wasteland untouched by life. The sky above is pale, tinged with dusty pinks and oranges. It is a world that has never known warmth, never known life like hers, and it never will.

She takes a deep breath, even though the atmosphere inside the ship is rich and full. Her chest aches with every rise and fall, not from the exertion but from the knowledge of what she is about to do. The ship, this living, breathing creature that has carried her through the stars, hums with confusion, sensing her hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to the walls, running her fingers along the organic surface, feeling the pulse of life beneath it. “But it’s the only way.”

Her hand presses the override controls, ignoring the warnings flashing in the ship’s language—warnings designed to protect both her and the craft from what she’s about to do. The living walls pulse in protest, trying to stop her, but she knows how to bypass the safeguards. She’s done it before, under different circumstances, with other hopes.

With a final keystroke, the ship’s airlock opens with a quiet hiss, and the protective membrane that shields the interior from the Martian environment dissolves. The near-vacuum outside rushes in. The air inside the ship escapes in a violent burst, like a final exhale from a dying creature.

Her feathers ruffle slightly in the sudden change, but she remains calm, stepping out into the barren cold. The thin Martian atmosphere nips at her skin, the cold sharp enough to burn, but she knows it won’t kill her. Not with the artifact still pulsing inside the ship, buried deep within the living walls, keeping her alive.

She walks a few paces away from the ship, turning to watch the next part unfold. The vessel shudders slightly, its surface rippling like liquid, as the spiral follows her last request. Slowly, the ship begins to sink—not into the soil, but through it. The organic material, once solid, starts to blur, to vibrate at a frequency that allows it to pass through matter like a ghost.

She watches in silence as the ship descends, its massive body swallowed by the Martian crust. It will sink deeper and deeper into the ground, phasing through rock and sediment. The craft knows what to do, even if it doesn’t understand why. It’s following its programming, its instincts.

And when she leaves the spiral’s influence, the ship will snap back into solid form. If it has sunk deep enough, the pressure from the surrounding rock will be immense—sufficient to keep the artifact contained, enough to bury it forever, where it can no longer cause harm.

But she knows that the artifact’s power is relentless, unyielding. Even deep beneath the surface, it will protect her, keep her alive in ways she cannot fully understand. Its influence has already worked its way into her bones, into her mind. She has carried its curse with her across the stars, and now, even here, in this desolate landscape, it will not let her go.

She turns away from the ship, feeling the pull of the artifact diminish slightly as the vessel sinks further. The temptation to stay close, to return to its shelter, gnaws at the edges of her thoughts, but she fights it. She forces her legs to move, each step dragging her further from the only safety she has known.

Maybe if she walks far enough, the artifact’s hold on her will weaken. Maybe, if she puts enough distance between herself and the ship, she can finally escape its grip. She doesn’t know if it’s possible, but she has to try. She’s tired—so tired of living, of outlasting everything and everyone she has ever loved.

Her world is gone. Her people, lost forever. The artifact took them all, in one way or another. And now it’s buried inside a ship sinking deep beneath the surface of a cold, dead planet.

The Martian air is thin and weak, but she feels it scrape across her feathers and body. It should feel like death—freezing and suffocating.

But the artifact’s pulse, even distant and buried, keeps her alive. Her heart beats in time with its rhythm. She curses it with every breath, yet it sustains her, refusing to let her die.

She keeps walking, her steps slow but steady, the red wasteland stretching endlessly before her. Maybe, if she walks long enough, she can outrun it. Perhaps she can lose herself in this endless void, far enough from the artifact that its power will fade, and she will finally—finally—be allowed to die.

She doesn’t look back. The ship is gone now, swallowed by the planet. There is nothing left for her but the distant horizon.

And so, she walks alone, hoping for an end that may never come.

---

The dome groans ominously, a low, resonant sound that cuts through the constant hum of machinery. Deia’s head snaps up from the control panel, her heart skipping a beat. At first, it’s just a tremor, a slight vibration beneath her boots, like the Martian ground shifting restlessly beneath them.

Then, the floor heaves.

The metal supports creak, and Deia feels the rumble deep in her bones as the dome shudders violently, the transparent shell overhead flexing under the sudden pressure. Dust kicks up from the floor, swirling into the air in thick clouds. Her hands instinctively grip the edge of the control panel, her knuckles turning white as the vibrations intensify.

“Everyone hold on!” Jason shouts over the alarms, which erupt in a piercing wail—a sound that cuts through the chaos. The harsh screech of metal buckling under stress follows, and the dome groans again—louder this time. Deia can see the structural supports shaking, some of them warping in slow-motion agony.

A deafening crack splits the air. A chunk of the dome’s ceiling collapses inward, and debris rains down in a hail of shattered tiles, jagged shards of metal, and twisted wiring. The smell of scorched electronics fills Deia’s nose, sharp and acrid, mixing with the metallic tang of Martian dust that has been thrown into the air.

“Deia! Get down!” Sam’s voice barely cuts through the cacophony as she ducks behind the nearest piece of equipment. Deia follows suit, diving under the control panel just as more debris crashes down where she had been standing seconds before.

The entire dome feels like it’s folding in on itself. The tremors pulse through the ground in uneven waves, throwing equipment and tools across the floor. Deia squeezes her eyes shut, her heart hammering in her chest, trying to focus on breathing through the chaos. The alarms keep blaring, a dissonant chorus that matches the frantic rhythm of her pulse.

“What the hell is happening?” Jason yells, his voice rough from the dust and tension. He stumbles across the trembling floor, grabbing onto the side of a console to keep himself upright. The rest of the crew scrambles for cover, but the room feels like it’s coming apart around them.

“Quake! It’s gotta be a quake!” Sam shouts back, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and fear. “But that doesn’t make sense—Mars doesn’t get quakes like this!”

Another violent tremor shakes the floor, and this time, Deia feels it deep beneath the ground, almost as if something massive is shifting below them. The equipment attached to the drill rig sparks violently, cables snapping and flailing like angry serpents. The radar screens flicker, static crackling across their displays, and then… they go black.

Deia forces herself to look up from her position, her body tensed against the tremors. Something feels wrong. The quake, the alarms, the power surge—it’s too sudden, too intense. Mars shouldn’t be reacting like this, and certainly not in this area. The planet’s long-dead geology shouldn’t be capable of generating a tremor of this magnitude.

Unless…

“Jason!” Deia shouts, pulling herself to her feet, her legs shaking as the dome groans again. “It’s not a normal quake! I think it’s coming from below—where the drill hit that thing!”

Jason whirls to face her, eyes wide. “The object? The drill was barely touching it!”

“Something shifted when we hit it!” she insists, clinging to the panel for support. “It might’ve triggered… I don’t know, something.”

Another tremor rips through the ground, nearly knocking Deia off her feet. This time, the sound of tearing metal reverberates through the dome as a section of the support beams gives way and buckles inward. Sparks explode from exposed cables, and more debris rains down, sending the team scrambling for shelter.

“We need to evacuate!” Sam yells, her voice barely audible over the shrieking alarms. “This whole place is coming down!”

Jason moves to the central console, his fingers flying across the controls in a desperate attempt to trigger the emergency protocols. The red lights overhead pulse in warning, signaling the breach of the dome’s integrity. Air is already beginning to leak, the pressure differential is creating a subtle, insistent pull toward the cracks forming in the structure.

Deia watches him, her mind racing. If the quakes are connected to the object below them—whatever that thing is—they’re in more danger than just a structural collapse. She glances at the ground-penetrating radar, now flickering faintly back to life, and the ghostly image of the bird-like shape appears again on the screen, more precise than before.

It’s moving.

“Oh my god,” Deia whispers, her stomach lurching. The object, that impossible structure, is shifting beneath them as if waking up.

“Deia! Get to the transport!” Jason shouts, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her toward the exit. “Now!”

She stumbles after him, her body still reeling from the violent shaking of the ground. All around them, the dome continues to collapse, the transparent panels cracking and warping. The alarms scream louder, signaling the breach that’s becoming too large to contain.

As they race through the quaking structure, the ground shudders again, harder this time, and a massive crack splits the floor beneath their feet. Deia barely has time to react before the floor heaves, and she stumbles forward, feeling Jason’s grip slip as the world tilts.

She crashes to the ground, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. For a brief, panicked moment, she feels the tremors beneath her, more violent and erratic than ever. The ground feels alive, like something deep below is stirring, struggling to break free.

“Deia!” Jason shouts, his voice distant as she pushes herself up, blood pounding in her ears.

She looks back toward the drilling site, her heart hammering in her chest as the image of the shifting object lingers in her mind. Something ancient, buried beneath Mars for untold millennia, has been disturbed. And now it’s waking up.

With the last of her strength, Deia forces herself to her feet and runs toward the exit, the groaning dome collapsing around her.

---

The transport shakes as Deia slams the door shut behind her, the metallic clank swallowed by the roar of the tremors outside. She collapses into a seat, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sam is already strapped in beside her, her face pale and streaked with dust. Jason clambers in last, sealing the hatch just as the transport shudders again.

“Go!” Jason shouts, his voice hoarse. Deia slams the throttle forward, and the transport lurches into motion. It races across the uneven terrain inside the mining dome, its wheels bouncing over cracks and debris.

Deia grips the edge of her seat, her body jostling with the violent motion. Behind them, the dome groans again, a deep, unnatural sound, like something massive and alive shifting in its death throes. Deia looks back through the small window in the door, watching as the cracks in the structure widen, entire support beams bending and breaking under the strain.

The Martian dust storm outside swirls against the cracked dome, streaking the glass with red as the pressure inside begins to fall.

“How bad is it?” Sam asks, her voice shaking.

“Everything’s collapsing,” Jason mutters, strapping himself in. “The dome’s losing integrity. We won’t last long if it goes completely.”

“What the hell?” Jason asks, his eyes flicking nervously between the cracked dome and the control panel in front of him. “Mars isn’t supposed to do this.”

“It’s the object,” Deia says, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mind is still racing, the image of that ghostly shape seared into her thoughts. “Whatever’s down there, we triggered something when we hit it. I don’t know what… but it’s alive. Or it was.”

Jason turns, his eyes narrowing. “Alive? Are you saying that thing’s moving?”

“It’s shifting,” Deia explains, struggling to put into words the feeling she had when she saw it. “The ground-penetrating radar picked it up. It’s deep, but it’s definitely moving, like it’s reacting to us.”

Jason swears under his breath, running a hand through his dust-caked hair. “That thing’s been down there for millions of years, buried under Martian rock. And we woke it up?”

Deia nods. “We must’ve hit it just right. I don’t think it’s metal or even a structure. It’s something… biological.”

“A biological what?” Sam asks, incredulous. “That thing is huge—fifty meters at least. What kind of life form could survive on Mars, buried that deep?”

Deia shakes her head, the terror of the last hour mingling with confusion. “I don’t know. But it’s old. Older than anything we’ve ever seen here. And whatever it is, we’ve woken it.”

Another violent tremor rocks the transport, throwing Deia against her harness. She fights to keep the vehicle steady as they speed toward the mining dome’s outer perimeter, where the emergency exit tunnel leads to the surface. The tremors are becoming more erratic, less like aftershocks, and more like something shifting beneath the surface, rippling through the ground.

“How much farther?” Jason barks.

“Almost there!” Deia replies, his voice tense. “Tunnel’s just ahead.”

Deia glances through the front windshield and sees the access tunnel’s entrance come into view. Its massive reinforced doors slowly grind open in response to the emergency alarms. The lights inside the dome flicker wildly, casting long, eerie shadows across the cracked ground.

Suddenly, a deafening crack splits the air. Deia’s eyes snap back to the mining dome just in time to see a massive section of the structure give way. One of the towering support beams, twisted beyond recognition, snaps in half, collapsing inward. The dome buckles, the transparent panels shattering in a hail of glass and debris.

“Move, move, move!” Jason shouts, but Deia is already slamming the transport into full throttle. The vehicle leaps forward, bouncing over the uneven terrain, and shoots into the tunnel just as the dome’s central structure crumples in on itself, sending a shockwave of dust and wreckage through the air behind them.

The tunnel doors grind shut behind them, sealing the team in darkness except for the faint emergency lights that line the walls. The transport slows, and the danger from the collapsing dome is now behind them, but the tension inside the cabin remains thick.

Deia exhales shakily, her hands trembling as she unclips her harness. “That was too close.”

“Too close doesn’t cover it,” Sam mutters, rubbing her temples. “We almost got crushed under that thing.”

Jason leans forward. “We need to figure out what we’re dealing with. Whatever that object is, we need more information before we make any decisions. I’m not about to risk more lives over this thing.”

“Should we even go back?” Sam asks, glancing toward Deia. “If it’s moving, if it’s alive, shouldn’t we… I don’t know, let it stay buried?”

Deia hesitates. Every instinct tells her to agree, to leave the object untouched, buried beneath the Martian surface where it belongs. But there’s a nagging feeling, a pull she can’t ignore. The object is ancient, powerful—something they’ve never encountered before.

And part of her is terrified of what might happen if they don’t understand it.

“We can’t leave it,” Deia says, her voice steadier than she feels. “It’s too important. Whatever that thing is, it’s not just some random anomaly. It’s been there for millions of years, and it’s reacting to us now for a reason.”

Jason looks at her, his expression hard. “And what if that reason is to destroy us?”

Deia swallows, the weight of the question settling in her chest. “Then we need to know how to stop it before it does.”

The transport comes to a stop at the far end of the tunnel, the doors opening to the Martian surface beyond. The team steps out into the cold, thin air, the sky above a sickly pink haze. The ground beneath them is still trembling, but more faintly now—like an afterthought.

“Whatever happens next,” Jason says grimly, “we need to be prepared.”

Deia nods, staring out at the vast Martian landscape, her mind still swirling with questions. Somewhere, far beneath their feet, the ancient object stirs, its purpose still unknown.

---

Author’s note: Thank you for continuing to read my story. Your thoughts and suggestions at this point are very welcome, so leave me a comment, positive or negative! The next chapter is, “The Awakening: Unearthing Mars’ Ancient Secret“.