Echoes of the Red Planet

CHAPTER 17: THE GHOST PLANET

The descent was rough.

Titan’s gravity pulled the ship down in a slow, steady drag, and the thick, orange clouds swallowed them whole. The ship’s external lights barely cut through the haze, the swirling methane storms making it feel like they were flying through living smoke.

Kiera gripped her seat as turbulence rocked the cabin. Jace wrestled with the controls, cursing under his breath as he tried to stabilize their descent.

The whole ship felt… wrong.

The moment they entered Titan’s atmosphere, the tension in the air became unbearable. The hum of the ship’s systems sounded distorted, warped, as if something was interfering with them.

And then, there was the silence.

No radio signals. No planetary pings. No distant beacons from old Titan stations.

Nothing.

Titan was supposed to be dead. It had been abandoned decades ago after the entire colony mysteriously vanished. No signs of struggle. No distress calls. The settlers had simply… disappeared.

And yet, someone—or something—had called them here.

Kiera exhaled slowly, gripping her arm. The veins beneath her skin still pulsed with that faint, unnatural glow. It had gotten worse. She didn’t tell Jace, but earlier, she could have sworn she felt something moving inside her veins.

Like the Core’s energy was alive.

Jace’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“We’re coming up on the surface.” His voice was tense, his hands locked onto the controls. “Picking up… something. Faint energy readings. No life signs.”

Kiera’s stomach twisted. “Something’s down there.”

Jace nodded grimly. “Yeah. But it ain’t human.”

Landing Site: Titan’s Dead Colony

The ship touched down with a dull thud.

Outside the window, nothing moved.

The landscape was a vast, frozen wasteland. The settlement was still there—or what was left of it. Twisted metal structures, long-abandoned. Buildings torn apart by time. The remains of a research outpost half-buried in ice, as if Titan had been trying to swallow the evidence of what happened here.

The silence was suffocating.

Kiera’s breath misted against her visor as she sealed her helmet. Jace was already suited up, his expression unreadable as he ran final checks.

“Alright,” Jace muttered. “No signals. No movement. Nothing in orbit.”

Kiera glanced at the lifeless colony. “Then who the hell sent the transmission?”

Jace didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. They both knew something was waiting for them.

The airlock hissed open.

The cold hit like a knife. Even through the thermal suits, Kiera felt it in her bones—like the planet itself was trying to keep them out.

They stepped forward, boots crunching into the thick, frozen dust. The methane fog curled around them, swirling in slow, unnatural patterns.

Kiera’s visor HUD flickered—just for a second.

Then came the first whisper.

She froze. “Did you hear that?”

Jace tensed. “Hear what?”

Kiera turned, scanning the ruins. The whisper had been faint—right on the edge of her hearing. Like a breath in her ear.

She shook her head. Keep moving.

They reached the first structure—an old research lab, its entrance half-buried in frost. Jace pried open the airlock, and the metal door groaned like a dying thing.

Inside, the dead colony waited.

Inside the Lab

The corridors were frozen over, walls coated in a thin layer of methane ice. The lights were long dead. The only illumination came from their suit lamps, casting shifting shadows on the walls.

Kiera’s pulse hammered in her ears. Something felt… wrong.

The place was too intact. There were no signs of struggle. No bodies. No personal belongings left in a panic. It was like everyone had stood up and walked away at the exact same moment.

They moved deeper into the facility, their footsteps echoing unnaturally.

Then—

A door slammed shut behind them.

Kiera spun, weapon raised.

The air was thick with silence.

Jace’s voice was tight. “That wasn’t the wind.”

No. It wasn’t.

Kiera took a slow breath. Stay calm.

They pressed forward, reaching what looked like the central lab. Computers were still active, running on emergency power. A large observation window overlooked something massive, half-buried in the ice outside.

Kiera’s stomach twisted. It looked like another Core.

“Jace,” she breathed. “What the hell is that?”

Jace was already at the terminal, his fingers flying across the controls. “Let’s find out.”

The screen flickered, then displayed a final log entry.

> COLONY LOG #3569

> Research Lead: Dr. M. Wallace

> DATE: [REDACTED]

> STATUS: LAST ENTRY

Kiera’s hands clenched into fists as the audio log began.

A man’s voice, trembling with pure terror.

“…If you’re hearing this… don’t touch it. Don’t go near it. We didn’t listen. We thought we could study it, but it saw us. It knew us. And then it—”

The recording glitched, distorting into an inhuman shriek.

Then came the whisper.

Right behind Kiera’s ear.

“…Kiera…”

She whirled, gun raised—

No one was there.

Jace was staring at her. “Kiera… what the hell is wrong with you?”

She was breathing too fast. Hands shaking. Heart pounding.

Because she had recognized that voice.

It had been hers.

She swallowed hard. “Jace. We need to go.”

Jace pointed at the screen. “Not yet. There’s one more file.”

The screen flickered—

And a live camera feed popped up.

Somewhere in the facility, a security cam still functioned. The footage was recent—mere seconds old.

And in the dimly lit corridor… something was moving.

Not human. Not alive.

A shadow that bent the wrong way, its form flickering in and out of existence.

Then it stopped moving.

And it turned directly toward the camera.

A face materialized in the static.

It was Kiera.

Her own reflection, but wrong—her eyes completely white, her expression twisted into something that wasn’t hers.

Then—

The screen snapped to black.

And all the doors slammed shut at once.

They weren’t alone.