Dr. Sian Vento adjusted her visor, peering at the shifting sandscape of Karst-9. The wind howled over the calcified dunes, and her drone, Rho, trailed behind, scanning. As an exogeologist, she’d cataloged countless rock formations, but the shimmering lattice beneath her boots was new. It pulsed when she touched it.
“Rho, log this as—”
A hum vibrated through her bones. The sand parted, revealing transparent filaments twisting, reshaping, writing. Words formed in her own dialect: Who are you?
Her pulse quickened. It wasn’t a simple geological anomaly—it was conscious. A lifeform, embedded in the very landscape, aware and waiting.
She hesitated, then traced her gloved fingers over the glassy strands. “Sian,” she whispered.
The filaments rippled, their pattern aligning with the rhythm of her breath. They had been alone here for eons. Now, she had answered. And she understood—so had they.
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