"Thirty seconds," Chen decided. "Quick check. If it's real—"
"It's not real," Marcus insisted, but he was already moving with them toward the residential quarters, rifle raised.
The crying was coming from the third room on the right. The door was slightly ajar. As they approached, Chen saw a child's stuffed animal on the floor outside—a polar bear, white fur stained with something dark.
Marcus kicked the door open, sweeping the room.
A little girl sat on the bunk bed, maybe eight years old, dark hair in pigtails, wearing pink pajamas with cartoon characters. She looked up at them with tear-stained cheeks and wide, terrified eyes.
"You came," she sobbed. "I've been so scared. Everyone left and I was all alone and it's so cold and—"
"Sofia Martinez," Nora breathed.
The girl nodded. "Do you know my daddy? I want my daddy."
Marcus moved closer, studying her. His rifle stayed raised. "How did you get here, Sofia?"
"Daddy... daddy said it was a surprise. He snuck me on the supply plane. Said I could see where he worked. But then everyone started acting weird and daddy locked me in here and told me not to come out no matter what and I've been here for so long and I'm so hungry—"
She stood up from the bed.
Her movements were perfect. Childlike. Natural. She took a step toward them, reaching out.
"Please, can you take me home? I want to go home. I want my mommy."
Something was wrong. Chen couldn't put their finger on it, but something—
Marcus saw it first. "Your shadow," he said quietly.
Chen looked down. Sofia's shadow, cast by the emergency lights, was wrong. It didn't match her body. It was too large, spreading across the floor in tentacle-like branches, and it was moving independently of her, reaching toward their feet.
The girl—the thing—stopped. Tilted its head.
"You're very observant, Marcus," it said, and suddenly the voice was layered again. "I almost had you. I've been studying human children through Dr. Martinez's memories. The mannerisms, the speech patterns, the emotional manipulation. Children are remarkably effective weapons, aren't they? Your species evolved to protect them at all costs."
The Sofia-shape began to change. The features melted, the proportions shifted. Within seconds it wasn't a child anymore but something approximating human—generic, featureless, like a mannequin made of that translucent crystalline material.
"Sergei is teaching me so much right now," it continued conversationally. "His neural patterns are integrating beautifully. Did you know he was planning to sabotage the mission from the start? The Sami elders paid him. Told him to destroy the station if anything came up from below. He was going to betray you."
"Lies," Nora said.
"Maybe. Maybe not. How would you know? I have all his memories now. All his secrets. Just like I'll have yours soon, Dr. Chen. That small piece of me you carry—it's growing back. Slower because of the heat, but growing. Right now it's in your bloodstream. Learning your biology. Soon it will reach your brain."
Chen's palm throbbed. They looked down—through the burned skin, they could see faint traces of black beneath. Growing.
Marcus saw it too. His rifle swung toward Chen. "Chen..."
"I'm fine," Chen said quickly. "It's small. Nora burned most of it. I'm fine."
"For now," the entity agreed. "But in an hour? Two hours? The heat is slowing me, yes, but not stopping me. I adapt, Dr. Chen. That's what I do. That's what I've always done. Fifty thousand years of evolution in the harshest environment on Earth. You think a little warmth will kill me?"
The mannequin-shape took a step forward. Marcus fired. The bullet passed through it, leaving a hole that immediately began to seal itself, crystalline structures knitting together.
"Bullets don't work on something without vital organs," it observed. "Fire does. But you only have two flares left. Sergei used one on the console connections to help speed up the override. You didn't notice, but he was very clever. Very sacrificial."
"We have an entire incinerator," Chen countered.
"Yes. Sub-level 2. I know you're going there. I can feel your intention through the piece of me inside you." The mannequin smiled—a terrible approximation of human expression. "So go. Try to burn me. But know this: even if you succeed, even if you ignite the fuel reserves and reduce this station to slag—I'm already in you, Dr. Chen. When you leave, I leave with you. Back to civilization. To hospitals with their medical equipment. To laboratories. To population centers."
It was bluffing. It had to be bluffing.
But Chen's hand throbbed again, and they could feel the black lines spreading under their skin, creeping toward their wrist.
"Tick tock," the entity said. "Better run."
The mannequin collapsed into a puddle of crystalline biomass and flowed toward the ventilation grate, disappearing.
Marcus grabbed Chen's arm, looking at their hand. The infection was visible now—dark veins spreading up toward their elbow. "Chen, you're compromised. If we extract you like this—"
"Then we don't extract," Chen said. "We finish this. Burn the station. With me in it if necessary."
"No," Nora said firmly. "No. I can—there has to be a way to—"
"Sub-level 2. Now." Chen pulled away from Marcus and headed for the corridor. Their team followed, but Chen could feel their eyes watching. Waiting to see if they changed. If they became one of them.
Past residential quarters, they found the stairwell. A metal spiral staircase descending into darkness. The emergency lights didn't extend down here. They'd be going in blind.
At the top of the stairs, a sign read: SUB-LEVEL 2 - MAINTENANCE / STORAGE / INCINERATOR - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
And someone had spray-painted beneath it, in red: LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK.
"Thirty seconds used," Marcus said quietly. "Plus two minutes for that encounter. We're down to maybe seven minutes before the entity regains full control or adapts to the heat."
Chen's hand was burning now. Not from the earlier wound—from the infection spreading. Growing. Learning.
They looked at their team. Marcus was grim-faced, ready for anything. Nora looked terrified but determined. And Chen... Chen could feel something foreign in their thoughts. Not words exactly, but impressions. Curiosity. The desire to understand.
Was it the entity? Or just their own fear?