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## 🌌 **Chapter 1 – The Silence of Orion-9**
The stars hung still in the void above, like ancient eyes watching from the edge of time. Through the glass dome of the landing module, Dr. Aarin Voss stared out at the alien planet, his face illuminated by the dim glow of Orion-9's twin moons. He didn't blink. Not yet. Not until his breath steadied.
The shuttle shuddered as its thrusters cooled. Behind him, the rest of the research team began their post-landing routines—powering down systems, checking oxygen filters, logging telemetry—but Aarin didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the twisted, jagged silhouette of a ruined structure in the distance, barely visible through the swirling violet dust.
It was there. Just like in the photos.
Twenty years ago, his father's last transmission came from this same valley. One word survived the corrupted message:
> "Run."
But they never found his body. Only silence followed.
Aarin finally exhaled, fogging the inside of his helmet. "I'm home," he whispered to no one.
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The landing bay doors opened with a hiss, spilling artificial light onto the cracked soil of Orion-9. The team stepped out in suits that hummed with pressure stabilization. Aarin was the last to descend, kneeling as his boots touched the planet.
"Readings?" asked Captain Raylen, her voice clipped through comms.
"Atmosphere: 3% methane, trace oxygen, 92% nitrogen. Still hostile," answered Dr. Selene Marris, the team's biologist. "No signs of flora or fauna. Same as the probes."
"Still... something's off," muttered Selene, glancing toward the dark horizon. "No wind. No sound. Like the planet's holding its breath."
Aarin didn't respond. He was already walking toward the ruins, drawn to them as if by a magnetic pull. The AI assistant in his suit blinked softly over his HUD, scanning the structure. Unknown materials. No clear entry.
But he remembered the sketch from his father's notebook—found folded inside a hollowed-out book, hidden in his old lab.
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Thirty minutes later, Aarin reached the base of the structure.
It was massive—far taller than it appeared from the shuttle—its jagged towers arched toward the sky like the bones of a dead god. Strange symbols pulsed faintly along the walls, as if reacting to his presence.
"Aarin, stay close!" Raylen barked over comms. "We haven't mapped that yet!"
"I won't go inside," he lied.
He stepped forward, brushing his gloved hand across the ancient metal. It was warm.
Suddenly, the symbols flared. A low hum echoed under the surface, like a heartbeat awakening. Dust trembled at his feet. The wall split open with a soft groan, revealing a narrow passage lit by a pale, blue glow.
"Aarin, what's happening?!" Selene's voice cracked with panic.
"I think… it recognized me."
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The tunnel walls curved organically, unlike anything built by humans. At the end of the passage stood a tall pedestal, atop which floated a black cube—weightless, spinning slowly, as if untouched by time.
Aarin stepped closer, heart pounding. His father's voice echoed in his mind: "They don't build like us. They grow their machines."
As his fingers reached out, the cube flared. Not bright—but deep. A darkness that shimmered like a black hole wrapped in thought. And then—
**A voice inside his head.**
Not English. Not any language he knew. But somehow, he understood:
> "You are the last thread. The key has returned."
And suddenly, he wasn't standing on Orion-9 anymore.
He was somewhere else—floating in a sky made of memories, surrounded by towering beings of light. A vast machine-world crumbled in slow motion around him. He saw Earth, broken. He saw a fleet of black ships moving like insects through the void.
And he saw his father.
Still alive.
Trapped.
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Aarin collapsed, gasping, the vision gone. The cube had embedded itself in his palm, dissolving into his suit, as if rewriting its code.
From the comms came shouting.
"Aarin! Come back! We've got a— Wait… what the hell is that?!"
He turned. Over the hill, above the shuttle—**something was rising**. A spindly creature, tall as a building, with glistening metallic skin and too many limbs.
Orion-9 was no longer silent.
It had **woken up**.
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