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2
MADISON
Standing in the middle of nowhere that was Enchor’s Heart, the vast desert seemed a world away from the bustling city life I had left behind.
The wind whispered stories of ancient times, carrying grains of sand that nipped at my skin, each bite bringing a sharp reminder of where I was — alone on an alien moon.
I saw the fog rolling in from the west, a thick, creeping haze that threatened to consume the landscape.
The sight was spectacularly terrifying, like watching a slow invasion of cotton candy-like clouds, yet it carried a distinct chill of dread.
It blotted out the setting sun, casting eerie shadows that danced and shifted with the changing light.
My heart pounded in my chest, a harsh rhythm that seemed loud in the sudden silence.
I was waiting for a shuttle, one that should have arrivedhoursago.
But there was nothing, no drone of engines, no blinking lights — just the encroaching fog and the incessant whisper of the wind.
The air was cold, biting through the protective gear I wore.
As the cold seeped into my bones, I couldn’t help but shiver, wrapping my arms around myself.
In the distance, a lone Pilak bird shrieked, its cry piercing through the impending silence.
The sound echoed in my ears, an ominous symphony that underscored my rising anxiety.
I squinted, straining my eyes, trying to spot any sign of the shuttle through the dense fog.
The sands shifted beneath my boots, their granular texture making a soft crunching sound with each shift of my weight.
I moved slightly, adjusting my stance, my hands resting on the small pack slung around my waist.
It contained a few essentials, the survival kit standard to any traveler — a compact first aid kit, a water purifier, some high-energy bars, and a solar blanket.
I could smell the fog now, a strange mix of musty dampness and the crispness of a fresh morning on Enchor’s Heart.
It filled my nostrils, evoking images of times I had spent in more familiar landscapes back home, triggering a twinge of homesickness that I quickly squashed.
This was not the time for such thoughts.
A stray gust of wind blew across the empty expanse, bringing with it a soft, otherworldly humming.
For a moment, hope flared within me, and I spun around, expecting to see the dim lights of the shuttle breaking through the fog.
But there was nothing, just the spectral glow of the fog backlit by Enchor’s primary sun.
In the dense silence that followed, my mind started weaving worst-case scenarios.
Had the shuttle got lost in the fog?
Was I destined to spend the night in this isolated desert?
The questions spun a whirlwind of doubts in my mind, threatening to steal my resolve.
Suddenly, I heard it — a distant, rhythmic beat, faint but growing louder.
I strained my ears, trying to determine the direction it was coming from.
