: The mission ahead fills me with a mixture of anticipation and unease. Orva-3, a colossal colony station adrift in the darkness of space, beckons us to uncover its mysteries. The briefing provided only fragments of information, leaving us to piece together the puzzle that lies ahead.
: The darkness of space stretches endlessly beyond the station’s windows, a void that seems to seep into every corner of my thoughts. There is a certain loneliness to this place, an emptiness that mirrors the unknown realms we are about to explore.
: Whispers—faint and distant—seem to follow me, teasing at the edges of my perception. Yet, these murmurs are mine alone, as if the shadows themselves speak to me in a language beyond comprehension. The station’s cold embrace lingers, casting a shroud of uncertainty over my thoughts.
: As we prepare to disembark, I find myself torn between curiosity and trepidation. What secrets does Orva-3 hold? What whispers will the darkness reveal to me as we step into the abyss?
: Only time will unveil the truth that awaits us among the stars.
(///> End of Pre-Mission Entry <=)
The moment we docked at Orva-3, a sense of unease settled deep within me. The station’s metallic exterior stretched out before us, a monolith in the endless sea of space. The dim lights cast eerie shadows that danced like specters across the walls. Captain Reese’s voice crackled over the intercom, her words a stark reminder of the mission at hand. “Prepare to disembark. We’ll rendezvous in the lobby.”
The airlock hissed as it opened, and a shiver traced its way down my spine as I stepped onto the station. The lobby stretched out before us, vast and empty, like a cathedral of darkness. The red emergency lights lent a sickly glow to the surroundings, painting the walls with distorted shapes. Lieutenant Nguyen’s voice echoed in the stillness. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Dr. Kellan nodded, his flashlight casting flickering shadows on the walls. “It’s like the silence is tangible, pressing down on us.” Sergeant Ramirez’s steps were silent as he moved forward, his gaze scanning the room. “Feels… abandoned.”
Captain Reese’s voice held a firm edge as she addressed the team. “Remember, we’re here to investigate. Let’s split up and look for any signs of life or disturbance.” As we moved away from the airlock, the sense of isolation deepened. The dark expanse of space loomed beyond the windows, a void that seemed to stretch on forever. The emptiness of the lobby mirrored the emptiness of the cosmos outside, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were intruders in a realm not meant for the living.
“I don’t like it here,” I whispered, my voice barely reaching my own ears. Lieutenant Nguyen’s footsteps were quiet as she approached me. “It’s just a station, Doc. Nothing to be afraid of.”
My voice carried a hint of trepidation. “But what if it’s not just the station? What if it’s the emptiness itself that’s watching us?” Sergeant Ramirez’s armored form seemed to meld with the shadows as he spoke, releasing a light chuckle under his breath. “Don’t let the darkness mess with your head. We’re professionals.”
Captain Reese’s voice cut through the tension. “We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes. Stay in contact, and keep your lights on at all times.” As the team split up to explore the dark expanse of the lobby, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was just beyond the edge of my perception. The red lights seemed to cast an otherworldly hue on everything, as if reality itself had been tainted by the emptiness that surrounded us.
Minutes passed like hours, each second heavy with the weight of the unknown. As I glanced around, I caught fleeting glimpses of shadows that seemed to dance just out of sight. Whispers brushed against my ears, the words unintelligible yet hauntingly familiar. We hadn’t even begun to delve into the mysteries of the station, and already it felt as though the darkness was closing in around us. I clung to the illusion of safety, the company of my team, as we stood together in the eerie, empty lobby—surrounded by the silence of space and the unsettling whispers that echoed through the void.
My thoughts swirled in a vortex of unease, my imagination conjuring shadows that danced just beyond my vision. I felt as though I was drifting, caught in the undertow of a darkness that threatened to swallow me whole. And then, a hand touched my arm, snapping me out of my daze of fear. It was Lieutenant Nguyen, her concerned expression cutting through the haze of my thoughts.
“Doc, you okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry. I blinked, my heart racing, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just… the atmosphere in here.”
Lieutenant Nguyen offered me a reassuring smile before turning her attention back to the lobby. “We should regroup. The others are waiting.” I followed her lead, my steps echoing through the emptiness as we made our way back to the center of the lobby. Dr. Kellan and Sergeant Ramirez were already there, their expressions mirroring my own unease.
Captain Reese’s voice cut through the silence. “Did anyone find anything?” Dr. Kellan shook his head, his flashlight still casting flickering beams of light. “Nothing. It’s like everyone just… disappeared.”
Sergeant Ramirez’s visor gleamed as he looked around. “I checked the docking areas. No ships, no luggage, no people. It’s as if they left in a hurry, or didn’t leave at all.” Lieutenant Nguyen’s voice was somber. “I searched the communication center. No signs of a struggle, no signs of damage.”
Captain Reese sighed, her shoulders tense. “So, it’s safe to say we’re alone.” That phrase alone dug into my mind like a thorn. Alone? On a colony station made for upwards of millions of people? It didn’t sit right at all. Or even seem possible, for that matter. The weight of the revelation settled over us like a heavy shroud. The emptiness of the station mirrored the emptiness of the cosmos beyond—the void seemed to have seeped into the very walls, the very fabric of the place.
“We’re missing something,” Dr. Kellan mused, his voice thoughtful. “It’s not just the absence of people. It’s the absence of any traces of their existence.” Captain Reese’s gaze turned to the windows, her voice low. “Maybe they had a power outage, or an emergency and all went into one of the emergency shelters.”
As we stood there, surrounded by the eerie stillness, a sense of helplessness washed over me. It was as though the station had swallowed the very essence of life, leaving only a void of emptiness in its wake. Dr. Kellan’s words held a sense of resignation. “We’re not going to find any answers here. Not in this empty darkness.”
Captain Reese nodded, her voice firm. “Agreed. Let’s gather our findings and report back. Maybe we can get a full station wide sweep with a much larger force.” And so, we began to leave the lobby—still empty, still eerie—hoping to retreat to the ship, the darkness of Orva-3 being a distant memory on our ride back home. As we made our way back to the airlock, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught my attention. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—a distant whisper, carried on a breeze that wasn’t there. It made a chill run down my spine and grip my mind.
We exchanged glances, our unease deepening as we trecked back. Had they not have been able to hear this? Was it only me? Surely it couldn’t be. It was as if the silence of the station was finally breaking, giving way to something else—a presence that had been hidden just beyond my perception. And then, a sound—a faint scuttling, like something running along the nearby catwalks above us. Our flashlights swept the shadows, searching for the source of the disturbance, but there was nothing to be seen.
“We should investigate.” Captain Reese’s voice was resolute, her grip on her weapon tightening. Dr. Kellan’s flashlight illuminated the path ahead as we ventured deeper into the station. The air seemed to crackle with tension, the echoes of our footsteps mingling with the whispers that now seemed to fill the air around my, hidjing just beyond the shroud of darkness.
“Do you hear that?” Lieutenant Nguyen’s voice was barely audible above the growing cacophony of sound that radiated in my ears as I clapsed my hands over them attmepting to block the sound. The whispers—no longer distant murmurs, but an intricate chorus of voices, their words a jumbled symphony that teased at the edges of my comprehension.
Sergeant Ramirez’s visor cast an eerie glow as he glanced at each of us. “We’re not alone.” As we moved forward, the whispers seemed to converge, their intensity growing like a storm building on the horizon. And then, a flicker of movement—a shadow that darted just beyond the edge of our vision, as if taunting us.
“We need to go back.” Dr. Kellan’s voice wavered, his flashlight trembling in his grip. But Captain Reese’s gaze was fixed on the darkness ahead. “No. We need to find out what’s here.”
And so, we pressed on, our steps echoing in the oppressive silence. The whispers grew softer, their words like gentle brushes against my thoughts. I felt a chill run down my spine, a sense of dread settling over me like a shroud. As we stood there, our flashlights flickering nervously, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air. It was as if the very station itself was watching, waiting for something.
And then, up on the catwalks above us, a faint sound—a scuffling once more, like something moving in the shadows, faster than our minds may perceive, taunting us, luring us from safety. Our flashlights snapped to attention, casting their beams towards the source, but the darkness remained unfathomable. Lieutenant Nguyen’s voice was tinged with unease. “Did you hear that?”
As we exchanged glances, the tension grew palpable. My heart raced, my grip tightening on the flashlight. And then, a noise—a faint, mechanical sound. The airlock doors—the ones leading back to our ship—slid shut with a quiet hiss.
Sergeant Ramirez’s visor illuminated the closed doors, his voice tense. “What just happened?” Captain Reese’s voice was stern, her eyes narrowing. “Stay calm. There must be a logical explanation.”
But as we stared at the sealed airlock, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of our stomachs. The silence of the station had become suffocating, and I couldn’t shake the faint, distant whispers that seemed to curl around my mind. “We need to find another way out,” Lieutenant Nguyen’s voice was edged with urgency.
As we turned to explore our options, the whispers seemed to grow softer, their words like gentle brushes against my thoughts. I felt a chill run down my spine, a sense of dread settling over me like a shroud. Dr. Kellan’s voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. “Collins, are you okay?”
I blinked, my heart racing, and nodded. “Yeah, I… I just thought I heard something.” Captain Reese’s gaze met mine, concern etched on her face. “We’ll figure this out. Let’s just open the airlock manually.”
And so, we worked together to access the controls, the tension in the air almost tangible. As the airlock doors began to slide open, the whispers faded even more, leaving only a lingering sense of unease. As the doors finally opened, we exchanged glances, our relief palpable. The darkness of the station seemed less foreboding now, and the whispers had retreated to the recesses of my mind.
“We should continue our investigation,” Captain Reese’s voice held a note of determination. “We’ll report back and find a way to explain the airlock malfunction.” And so, we left the lobby behind, stepping out into the corridors once more. The whispers were quiet now, a distant echo that I couldn’t quite shake. The darkness of Orva-3 still held its secrets, but I was determined to uncover them—even if the faint, distant whispers continued to dance at the edge of my perception.
: Captain Reese and I have left the lobby in search of a control room that might allow us to manually open the airlock. The whispers, though distant, remain a constant undercurrent, weaving through the silence of the station.
As we move through the dimly lit corridors, the shadows seem to take on a life of their own, casting doubts on every turn we make. Our footsteps echo in the emptiness, a stark reminder of the vast expanse of Orva-3.
With uncertainty lingering in the air, I am determined to update our logs with the information of our expedition as soon as possible. Our fellow team members deserve to know the unfolding events and the mysteries that continue to envelop us.
As we prepare to venture deeper into the station, Captain Reese and I leave the rest of the group behind, our steps echoing in the emptiness. The darkness of Orva-3 stretches out before us, its secrets waiting to be unveiled.
(///> End of Update: Expedition Entry #1 <=)
[Excerpt from the Harbingers Bible: Passage (Arrival 1:1)]
In the beginning, when darkness clung to the void and the stars had yet to blaze forth, a prophecy whispered through the cosmic winds. It spoke of a time when the boundaries of reality would thin, and the veils between worlds would quiver in anticipation.
As the eons unfurled their tapestry, the threads of destiny converged, weaving the future into the fabric of the present. The birth of a new creation loomed, a beacon of hope forged from the ashes of the old. Through the shifting constellations, the Harbinger of change would rise, its presence heralding the dawning of an epoch yet uncharted.
The dance of galaxies and the celestial ballet heralded a revelation—an opening of the veil that guarded the secrets of the cosmos. The unseen would be revealed, the mysteries uncovered, and the path to salvation unveiled.
With every celestial movement, the prophecy beckoned, drawing the chosen ones toward the cusp of transformation. As the stars aligned and the cosmic symphony swelled, the arrival of a new era stood on the horizon, a bridge between what was and what would be.
And thus, as the universe held its breath, the prophecy spoke its final words: “The Harbinger is nigh.”
[End of Excerpt]