Light seeped through a cracked pane of glass, cutting a pale line across lifepod. The air inside the room was stale. Overhead, a ceiling light flickered—on, off, on—its faint hum the only sound besides their uneven breathing.
Anna sobbed quietly, her shoulders trembling.
"Are we… alive?" Lexus finally whispered, his voice small in the suffocating silence.
"Yes," Xiaolang said. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered toward the window, peering outside with caution. "That monster didn't follow us."
A collective breath was released.
"Ugh… where are we?" Laurel groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head. She glanced toward another window, where a sliver of green—trees, maybe—glimmered faintly through the grime.
"It looks like the land I saw earlier," Xiaolang replied. "We've been stranded there."
Anna's breathing hitched. "We're going to die… we're going to die…" Her voice cracked as fear finally swallowed her whole.
"No, we're not." Lazarus knelt beside her and gently shook her arm, forcing a smile he didn't fully feel. "Look around. We survived. Everyone's here. Even Xiaolang made it."
Laurel turned sharply. "Xiaolang—are you okay? I saw you go down. You were groaning."
"I'm fine," he said. He unbuttoned part of his uniform and pulled the fabric aside. A dark, purplish bruise bloomed across his chest, the mark of a brutal impact. The EVA suit had taken the worst of the hit—without it, the monster's jaws would have crushed him. "Just a bruise. Bob, can you check my back?"
Bob leaned in, inspecting carefully. "You're good. Nothing back here. Not even swelling."
Xiaolang nodded, relief flashing briefly across his face.
"Then that's it," Lazarus said, exhaling at last. A genuine smile broke through. "We all made it."
Lexus spun on them, hands thrown wide.
"What do you mean good!?" he shouted. "We were almost eaten by a monster! This has to be a joke. Are we in some kind of video game? Where's my starter gear—laser guns, AMS suits? You can't just throw a beginner against a Seliphesaurus!"
Shingo scoffed and rolled his eyes. "We're not in Levi Hunters, Lexus. And that thing wasn't a Seliphesaurus." He ticked points off on his fingers. "No neck flaps. Tail shape was wrong. The fins were all off. Seliphesaurus are way bigger."
Laurel crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "This isn't a VR game, everyone. VR can't simulate pain like that. And games aren't even allowed to show blood to anyone under twelve." Her voice hardened. "This is real."
The room fell quiet again.
"So what do we do now?" Lexus muttered, deflated.
"We explore the surroundings," Xiaolang said, his tone firm.
Even as he spoke, unease twisted in his gut. The lifepod felt wrong—too visible, too exposed. A metal shell dropped in the open. If something came looking, they'd be sitting ducks.
"Rejected." Laurel cut him off immediately. "There could be more monsters out there. We're staying here."
Her voice carried finality, like a judge delivering a verdict. She spoke with the confidence of someone who trusted manuals more than instincts.
"When will we be saved?" Anna asked weakly. "Where even are we?" Her voice cracked. "This feels like one of those survival horror books… where people get eaten one by one."
She buried her face in her hands and began to cry.
Anna knew it without anyone saying it—she was the weakest. Not strong. Not clever. If monsters came again, she'd be the first to die.
"Anna, we're not going to die." Lazarus crouched beside her, forcing a smile. "Okay? Let's stay positive."
He gestured toward the sealed hatch. "The monster didn't come onto land. That means we're safe here."
His grin was bright—but his hand trembled as it clutched the small cross hanging from his neck.
"…We should explore," Xiaolang said again, more quietly this time. "There's no guarantee we'll be safe if we just sit here."
"That monster couldn't breach the lifepod," Laurel snapped, planting her hands on her hips. "That's proof enough. And according to the USF Survival Manual, we stay inside." She turned toward the ceiling. "Right, Mistral?"
[Affirmative. In accordance with United Space Federation Lifepod Survival Manual guidelines, passengers are to remain inside until rescue arrives.]
"What if rescue never comes?"
Xiaolang's words settled heavily over the lifepod. It was a fear they all carried—one no one had dared give shape until now.
"…We'll talk about that when the time comes," Laurel said. Her voice was quiet, measured—but the certainty behind it had thinned.
"Um… Laurel?" Shingo hesitated. "I don't think we're as safe as you think." He flicked his wrist, forwarding Mistral's diagnostics to her neurogear. "The lifepod's been compromised."
A warning alert bloomed on the display. In one corner, a red dot pulsed ominously—right near the bathroom section.
Laurel moved instantly.
She rushed to the back of the pod, heart pounding, and froze. There—near the corner seam—was a thin slit in the wall, no wider than a pinky. A faint hiss whispered from it, air bleeding out in soft, steady breaths.
Her stomach dropped.
Laurel spun toward the hatch, her face drained of color.
"Xiaolang. I'm stepping outside for a moment. Do you see anything out there?"
"No… nothing," Xiaolang said, pressing closer to the small circular window. It was barely twenty centimeters wide—just enough for his face. His view was frustratingly narrow: sand, shoreline, a strip of water. Nothing below. Nothing above. "But be careful."
"H-huh… we're going to die…" Anna whimpered. "The pod's broken…"
"Stop crying," Lexus snapped, fingers twitching as they fidgeted on his knees. "You're making me nervous."
"I'm going out," Laurel said, already grabbing her phone. "I'll take pictures of the damage." She looked back at them, eyes sharp despite the fear. "Lazarus. Bob. Xiaolang. If anything moves—warn me."
"Be careful, Laurel," Lazarus said softly.
She climbed the hatch ladder, the metal rungs creaking beneath her weight.
"Wait—you forgot your EVA suit," Shingo said.
"There's no need," Laurel replied, already moving. "The hull's breached. I'll take a quick look and be right back."
She unlatched the double hatch and pushed it open. A breath of stale air sighed out into the open. Without the bulk of the EVA suit, her movements were quick and fluid as she stepped onto the narrow side ladder. Her boots clicked softly against the metal rungs—too softly, she thought, in the vast open quiet.
With a few practiced gestures on her smartbox, she snapped a series of photos. The images streamed instantly to Mistral.
Up close, the lifepod's white shell was barely recognizable. Deep gashes carved through its smooth surface, peeling it open to reveal tangled wiring and shimmering components she didn't recognize—technology laid bare like exposed muscle.
Laurel paused and scanned her surroundings.
The air was unnervingly still. No wind. No sound.
She exhaled slowly and began to climb back up. Her movements remained sharp and efficient, but her heart hammered harder with every rung. What if there are more of those things nearby? The thought crept down her spine, cold and unwelcome.
Then Something landed across her with a soft thud.
Laurel froze.
Perched on the lifepod's hull, right next to the hatch, was a small creature—no larger than a cat. Its body was covered in fine white fur that shimmered faintly in the light. Where a mouth should have been was a sharp beak, tapping curiously against the metal. Lateral eyes flicked back and forth, alert and unblinking. Behind it, a long tail swayed like drifting clouds, lined with delicate feathers that rippled with each movement.
For a heartbeat, they stared at one another. Laurel's heart nearly burst from her chest.
Then the creature unfurled four wings and leapt away, gliding effortlessly into the sky. Its tail streamed behind it, flowing like liquid silver against the blue.
Laurel didn't hesitate.
She leaped for the hatch and slammed the outer hatch shut. The impact echoed through the lifepod. Her muscles trembled as the tension finally drained from her limbs. She sucked in a deep breath—then another—until her pulse began to slow.
"Laurel?" Lazarus called from the other side, knocking gently on the inner hatch. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"
For a moment, she didn't answer—still listening, still expecting something to land again.
"No, I'm fine. I just… need a moment," Laurel replied, opening the inner hatch and stepping back inside.
"Hah? A moment? You just stepped outside and came right back." Lexus snorted. "What's so hard about that?"
"There was a creature out there," Laurel said flatly. "Small. It hopped near the hatch and pecked at the hull. Then it flew away after looking at me."
Silence fell over the pod. The air grew heavy—each of them picturing what kind of alien life might lurk just beyond the thin metal shell.
"So even aliens are scared of you, huh, Laurel?" Lexus muttered with a crooked grin.
Laurel's glare shut him up instantly.
"I took some photos. Mistral, can you analyze the damaged area?"
[That is a water purification system. Without it, reclaimed water from urine cannot be recycled.]
"That's terrible!" Shingo shouted. "Without that, we'll only last a few days—maybe a week at most!"
"Help will come," Laurel said quickly, her voice firm, controlled. She couldn't afford panic—not now. "Let's get our bearings first. Mistral, what do we have for food and water?"
[In accordance with USF regulations, all lifepods are equipped with one hundred blocks of Compact Nutrient Slab and forty liters of potable water. This ration is sufficient for ten days. However, with the water purification unit damaged, dehydration will begin within three days.]
Laurel's expression darkened as the numbers lined themselves up in her head.
Seven people. At least two liters per person, per day. Fourteen liters total.
Without the purifier, the math was brutal. Four days. Maybe four and a half if they stretched it. Not even a week.
The food situation was better—ironically so. With only seven passengers instead of a full pod, the Compact Nutrient Slabs would last close to two weeks. Plenty of calories. Plenty of energy.
Just no water to survive long enough to use them.
"…Help should come within a day or two," Laurel said at last, forcing steadiness into her voice. "Other accidents where lifepods were deployed ended the same way."
But even as she spoke, her jaw tightened.
This wasn't a routine crash. It was a hyperspace accident. There was no guarantee they were still in United Space Federation territory. The emergency beacon's signal only reached within a single star system. Beyond that—
It would take years if the signal could reach them at all.
"Laurel…" Lazarus said softly.
She didn't look at her. She didn't need to.
Shingo turned his gaze away, eyes fixed on the floor. Both of them knew. She was holding onto hope she didn't truly believe—but if she let go, everyone else would follow.
"I know," Laurel said quietly. "That's why we're staying put for a day or two." She took a slow breath. "After that, we move out and search for water."
Her eyes hardened.
"But not blindly. We observe first. The animals. Their behavior. We figure out which ones are dangerous—and which ones aren't."
"…Agreed," Xiaolang said, nodding grimly. His gaze flicked toward the hatch, then back to Laurel.
"Alright," Laurel said, rubbing her temples as the weight settled fully on her shoulders. "Apart from food and water—what else do we have?"
She straightened and looked up.
"Lazarus. You're first."
Lazarus reached into her pocket and pulled out a small plastic case.
"Just my sewing kit," she said, forcing a smile. "I thought I left this in my backpack… back on the starcruiser."
Anna went next, fumbling nervously through her uniform pockets. "My notebook… and my smartbox," she murmured. The words sounded hollow, as if the items had already lost their meaning.
Out here, there was no internet. No signal. The smartbox was reduced to a camera and a digital notepad—comfort stripped down to function.
Lexus dug into his pocket and scoffed. "A mirror, a comb, and my smartbox." He clicked his tongue. "Man, this VR game is way too hardcore. I want to log out."
Shingo let out a tired sigh. "Nothing. I left my smartbox on the starcruiser." He hesitated, then added, "All I have is my computer with Mistral in it."
Laurel glanced at the seat beside her, where the slim case holding her flute rested. Then she checked her pocket. "My flute," she said quietly. "And my smartbox."
Bob raised his wrist. "Flashlight watch." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "And an empty backpack."
Xiaolang reached into his pocket and unfolded a compact knife. Steel caught the light as the blade snapped into place—clean, well-maintained. A tool that had kept him safe for years. Alongside it, a smartbox.
No one spoke.
Seven students. Stranded on an alien world.
A sewing kit. A few gadgets. One knife. That's all they had.
Laurel exhaled slowly. "Alright. Anything else, Mistral?"
[Apart from food and water, all lifepods are equipped with an advanced water spectrometer, an Automated Medical Scanner, three EVA suits with three oxygen tanks and one oxygen charger, two detachable solar panel modules, one universal screwdriver with twelve bolts, and a pack of industrial-grade glue foam.]
Lexus snorted. "So what? What are we supposed to do with all that junk?"
"They're not junk!" Shingo snapped, glaring at Lexus. "We need those solar panels if we ever hope to recharge this lifepod! The one Xiaolang deployed? Destroyed by that monster."
"Why bother?" Lexus replied, shrugging. "This lifepod's just a shelter now. It can't even do its job properly. We don't need life support since the air is breathable. Water purifier? Broken. What else can this metal ball do?"
"There's the emergency beacon!" Laurel scolded, her eyes flashing. "Don't be so thoughtless."
"And we need electricity to charge our gadgets," Shingo added, his tone firm. "Without power, Mistral can't stay online."
"Ah… alright, sorry," Lexus muttered, looking away. He knew when to step back. "No need to be so angry."
Laurel exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "Well… let's rest, everyone. We've been through enough today." Arguing with Lexus was a losing battle.
As the others settled, Shingo lingered at the control panel. A faint red light blinked in the dark—a warning he hadn't dared address a second time. He clenched his fists, a low hum of anxiety thrumming in his chest.
Knowledge is power. With AI, books are no longer the fountain of knowledge. Mistral knows everything — all that humanity has ever learned is recorded within it. With Mistral's knowledge and human creativity, humanity can climb to even greater heights. ~ Shingo