"Are we… alive?" Anna whispered.
Her voice seemed too loud inside the rocking lifepod.
"Looks like it," Lexus replied, just as quietly.
For a moment, no one moved. The pod bobbed gently, the steady slap of waves against metal the only proof that time was still moving.
Xiaolang was the first to stand. He stepped toward the window, eyes fixed on the pale horizon where sea met sky. Endless water stretched in every direction, calm and indifferent.
"Mistral," he said, voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "Status report. Where are we? What about the emergency beacon?"
[Emergency beacon: online.
Water landing: successful.
Self-diagnosis initiated.]
"Hurray! We made it!" Lazarus leapt from her seat, both hands shooting into the air. The suffocating dread that had clung to them since descent finally cracked, spilling into laughter and shaky cheers.
[Self-diagnosis complete.
All systems nominal.
External atmosphere: 0.89 standard atmospheres.
Composition within human tolerance.
Surface conditions: stable.
Extravehicular activity without spacesuit possible.]
"You did it, Lazarus!" Shingo grinned, clapping loudly.
"Yeah! You were amazing!" Lexus added, hopping in place.
The lifepod filled with relieved noise—laughter, clapping, voices overlapping in disbelief.
Xiaolang, however, barely reacted. He moved from window to window, scanning the horizon, then turned toward the ladder leading to the upper hatch.
"Wait—what are you doing?" Laurel called, spotting him halfway up.
"I'm going outside," Xiaolang replied. "Mistral said we can survive without a spacesuit, right?"
[Correct. Lifepod 4's sensors indicate the surrounding atmosphere is within survivable parameters. However, United Space Federation Lifepod Survival Manual—EVA guidelines—states that all extravehicular activity must be conducted with a spacesuit.]
Xiaolang froze mid-step. "...Do we even have one?"
[Affirmative. Three compartments are located across from the control panel. The compartment on your right contains emergency solar panels, three EVA suits, standard tools, and foam adhesive.]
He climbed back down and crossed to the indicated storage room. The compartment hissed open, revealing three neatly packed EVA suits.
The suit was bulky and unmistakably utilitarian—designed for survival, not comfort. Thick layers reinforced the limbs, and rigid seals lined the joints. The helmet dominated the set: a large, rounded shell with a gold-tinted visor that reflected the dim cabin lights and Xiaolang's own uncertain expression. Heavy clamps and zippers ran across the chest, locking the wearer away from the outside world.
Xiaolang stared at it for a long moment.
Then he reached out and lifted it free.
Xiaolang grunted as he lifted the storage box. It took everything he had just to raise it a few centimeters off the floor. The EVA suit inside could be resized for smaller frames, but it was still built for adults—not children. His arms trembled. Then his grip slipped.
The helmet hit the floor with a dull thunk.
"I'll help you." Lazarus hurried forward and picked it up. The helmet was designed to be as light as engineering allowed, only around ten kilograms, yet even so, her arms strained under its weight, and this was only the helmet.
Mass has different weights depending on where they were, and on this planet, it certainly felt heavier than on Mars.
"I don't think you should go outside." Laurel's voice cut in, firm. "The readings say it's safe, but there's no reason to leave the pod. Not yet. We don't know anything about this place—it could still be dangerous."
Unease coiled in her chest. As class representative, it was her responsibility to keep everyone together, to prevent reckless decisions. Wandering into the unknown was the exact opposite of order.
"I don't think you should go outside." Laurel's voice cut in, firm. "The readings say it's safe, but there's no reason to leave the pod. Not yet. We don't know anything about this place—it could still be dangerous."
Unease coiled in her chest. As class representative, it was her responsibility to keep everyone together, to prevent reckless decisions. Wandering into the unknown was the exact opposite of order.
"Ugh… this thing's heavy," Lazarus muttered as she put the helmet onto him. "You sure you can even move in this?"
"I'll… try," he said after a beat.
The words didn't sound confident, but his resolve was unmistakable.
Something deep inside him pulled forward, an urge he couldn't explain. He took a step and nearly collapsed.
The suit dragged him down, pinning him to the floor. This gravity was heavier than the ship's artificial pull, heavier than anything he'd trained under. Every movement became a fight. The laws of this world pressed down on his body, stripping away the strength he had always trusted.
But his jaw tightened. His body wavered, but his spirit didn't.
"Ah—Xiaolang," Shingo called out, breaking the silence. "If you're already heading out… could you deploy the solar panel module manually?"
Laurel turned sharply. "Are we running out of power?"
"We're still at forty percent," Shingo replied, glancing at his display. "But… it doesn't look like rescue is coming anytime soon. If the power drops, Mistral shuts down. Same with the emergency beacon."
"What? That's terrible!" Laurel snapped, spinning on Shingo. Panic sharpened her voice. The realization hit her all at once—without Mistral, they weren't explorers or survivors. They were just children, stranded on an alien world with no guide and no safety net."Uh—w-well, that's why I asked him to deploy the solar panels," Shingo stammered, shrinking under her glare. Confrontation had always tied his thoughts into knots; the weight of expectation made his words trip over each other.
"Understood." Xiaolang nodded, calm and resolute despite the suit weighing him down. "Mistral, please instruct me on how to deploy the solar panels."
Walking in the EVA suit was already exhausting, but climbing the ladder was something else entirely. The gloves dulled his grip, and the planet's gravity dragged at him like invisible chains wrapped around his limbs. Each rung stole his strength. One step up felt like lifting his entire body against the world itself.
His foot slipped. His breath hitched.
Just as he was about to give up, the crushing weight eased.
Hands pressed against his boots and back.
Lazarus and Laurel pushed from below, straining together. A second later, Bob joined them, his strength steady and wordless. With their help, Xiaolang rose, rung by rung, until he reached the top hatch.
Once inside the airlock, he sealed the inner hatch. Then he reached for the outer one.
Hiss.
The sound of air equalizing whispered through the metal.
And then—
The world opened.
Before him stretched an endless expanse of water, glimmering beneath the light of a brilliant celestial orb hanging high above. Sunlight shattered across the surface into a million dancing reflections. The ocean rippled endlessly, alive, breathing, as if the planet itself were awake beneath the sky.
This alien ocean—this living water—left Xiaolang speechless.
Through the camera in his helmet, the others saw it too.
Inside the lifepod, no one spoke.
They watched sunlight race across the waves, watched the horizon curve without seams or borders. No pixels. No metallic skybox. No artificial limits. Just an uninterrupted world stretching farther than their eyes could follow.
"What… is this?" Laurel murmured at last. "The water… it moves like the wave pools."
Xiaolang swept his gaze across the horizon.
Beyond the floating steel sphere rocking gently on the waves lay a stretch of land—sylvan green rising from a chocolate-brown base, melting naturally into the sapphire ocean. Through the thin veil of mist, a coastline revealed itself, lush and alive, like a fragment torn straight from a fantasy and dropped into reality.
He stared at it longer than he should have.
That shore promised shelter. Ground beneath his feet. Safety.
But he forced himself to look away. There would be time for wonder later.
"Shingo," Xiaolang said, steadying his breathing. "Where's the solar panel?"
"Huh? Uh—wait, give me a second. Mistral?" Shingo replied, fumbling slightly.
[The compartment for manual solar panel deployment is located beside the hatch. You may pry open the lid using a screwdriver. Once exposed, the panel should deploy automatically. If it does not, pull the panel outward until you hear a click.]
Xiaolang glanced at his hands. No screwdriver.
"…Right," he muttered.
Bracing himself against the pod, he struck the casing with the heel of his palm. Once. Twice. On the third hit, the panel seam gave way with a dull metallic snap.
The solar panel unfolded along the lifepod's curved hull.
Its surface was vantablack, swallowing light completely—an unnatural darkness pressed against polished metal. It clung to the sphere like a second skin, bending space and reflection until its edges seemed to blur, as though a piece of night itself had been stretched and fastened to the pod.
A soft chime followed.
[Solar panel deployed. Efficiency at 20% due to atmospheric disturbance.]
"Yes!" Shingo exclaimed from inside the pod. "The lifepod's recharging!"
"But only twenty percent?" Lexus frowned. "Shouldn't it be, like, sixty? Is that even enough power?"
[Yes. As the surrounding atmosphere supports human life, life-support systems are not active. Current electrical generation is sufficient to maintain the emergency beacon and onboard systems.]
Mistral's calm voice settled over them like a blanket.
Inside the lifepod, shoulders relaxed. Tension drained away, replaced by quiet relief.
For now, at least, the crisis had passed.
"Good work, Xiaolang. You can come back inside now," Laurel said, relief softening her tone.
"You were amazing, Xiaolang!" Anna bounced on her toes. "You looked just like an astronaut!"
"What do you mean astronaut?" Lexus snorted. "All he did was open a lid."
But the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. The tension that had gripped them minutes ago was gone; even his teasing sounded lighter.
Xiaolang let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Pride swelled quietly in his chest as he turned toward the hatch. Before climbing down, he glanced once more at the sandy coastline barely a kilometer away.
Then something moved beneath the waves.
A shadow slid through the water at the edge of his vision—too smooth, too deliberate to be drifting debris. Xiaolang froze. For a heartbeat, he wondered if exhaustion had finally made him hallucinate.
He hadn't.
The sea bulged upward.
A long neck surged from the depths, towering over the lifepod. Water cascaded from four broad flaps along its neck as its snout broke the surface with a low, rolling splash. The ocean parted again as more of the creature rose—vast and sinuous, its sheer size dwarfing the white sphere bobbing beneath it.
Its flippers sliced through the water in slow, powerful strokes. Its tail moved with the grace of many fins working as one.
Yellow eyes fixed on Xiaolang.
Curious.
He stood frozen atop the lifepod, suddenly aware of how small he was—how fragile—perched on his floating metal shell. To the creature, he must have looked like a strange rider atop a pale mount.
The beast was… beautiful.
Its rubbery hide shimmered beneath the alien sun, slick and iridescent. A single white horn crowned its head, gleaming faintly like polished silver. For one breathless moment, Xiaolang was captivated.
Then the creature opened its mouth. Rows of immaculate, needle-sharp teeth caught the light.
The spell shattered.
Xiaolang spun for the hatch.
Too slow.
The creature lunged. Its jaws snapped shut around him with explosive force. Metal screamed as teeth scraped and ground against the EVA suit, the impact slamming him hard against the lifepod's hull.
"He's going to be eaten!" Anna screamed, squeezing her eyes shut as terror clawed at her chest.
"Xiaolang!!" Lazarus bolted for the hatch, panic surging through her veins—but Laurel slammed into her from the side, tackling her to the floor.
"He's about to be eaten!" Lazarus screamed, thrashing against her grip.
"Stop it!" Laurel shouted. Her voice shook as she held her friend down. "There's nothing you can do, Lazarus! Nothing!"
Outside, the creature's fangs sank deep into the oxygen tank strapped to Xiaolang's back.
For a split second, there was only a sharp, piercing hiss.
Then the world exploded.
A violent burst of white fire bloomed beneath the alien sun, sending shockwaves racing across the water. Spray erupted skyward as the creature roared, jerking back when compressed air blasted into its mouth. Its jaws snapped open—and Xiaolang's limp body slipped free, plunging toward the dark below.
Scorched fragments of metal and clouds of bubbles rose like twisted confetti.
Xiaolang's heart hammered in his chest.
He kicked hard, lungs burning as he swam for the lifepod. The EVA suit clung to him, shredded and leaking, water dragging him down with every stroke—but he was alive.
Inside the pod, his friends stared at the livecam, breath held, unable to look away.
"Xiaolang! Dive down—use the bottom hatch!" Lazarus shouted. Her thoughts raced. The ladder to the top hatch would take too long. He'd never make it in that suit.
"On it!" Xiaolang gasped, flailing as the weight pulled him under.
"Hurry up!" Lazarus yelled as she wrenched the floor hatch open.
"Wait! You'll flood the lifepod!" Lexus grabbed for her arm.
"It won't," Laurel snapped, yanking him back. "All lifepods are airtight. The pressure will hold. Trust me."
Xiaolang drew a desperate breath.
Cold water surged over his face, stealing the air from his lungs. Panic clawed at his chest as his fingers fumbled with the helmet latch. His vision blurred—bubbles, pain, light—until the seal finally broke.
He slipped free of the ruined suit.
With the last of his strength, Xiaolang kicked toward the glow of the open hatch.
Hands grabbed him—Bob's and Lazarus's—hauling him inside as the hatch slammed shut behind them.
Xiaolang collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently, body shaking.
"Any injuries?" Laurel knelt beside him, her voice tight. "Mistral—where's the medkit?"
[Automated Medical Scanner Kit is located in the storage compartment beside the EVA suit rack, above the food container, in accordance with USF standard.]
"That monster's coming for us!" Lexus screamed as the creature's roar reverberated through the lifepod's hull.
This was no longer curiosity. The beast now regarded the metal sphere as an annoyance.
Its jaws opened wide and clamped down on the lifepod. Teeth screeched against steel. The hull shuddered as the vantablack solar panels fractured, splintering apart and vanishing into the dark water below.
"We're going to die! It's going to eat us!" Anna screamed, curling into herself in the corner of the pod.
"Everyone, hold on!" Laurel shouted. "Get back to your seats!"
The creature tossed them aside, like when people throw a bag of rubbish out.
It dragged the lifepod through the waves like a dolphin batting a helpless toy, jerking it side to side, letting it slip—only to seize it again. Then, with a violent flick of its massive tail, it hurled the pod across the water.
The world spun.
Metal groaned. Water slammed against the hull like thunder. Gravity vanished, returned, vanished again—
Then the lifepod lurched once more.
And went still.
All motion faded into silence.
Lord, teach us to erase our enemies by making them friends. Forgive us as we forgive. Let our care be Your care, our mercy Your mercy. Do not let Your sheep die beneath the sun, but keep them close within Your light.
~ Lazarus