A spaceship lost in a distant galaxy.

The spaceship had been over three years since the vessel was flung off course by an unexpected wormhole, sending its crew spiraling into an unknown galaxy—one uncharted, untouched by the maps of human exploration.

Captain Elias Voss stood at the bridge, gazing out through the reinforced observation window. The vast expanse beyond was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Nebulae swirled in iridescent hues, and distant stars flickered like forgotten beacons. They had sent distress signals endlessly, but no response had come. They were alone.

"Commander Rhea, status report," Elias requested, turning to his second-in-command.

"Life support at 63%, power reserves holding, but our food supply won’t last more than two months," Rhea responded grimly. "The engines are operational, but without a known destination, we are simply drifting."

Drifting—that was their fate. The ship had become their tomb, a steel coffin lost in the abyss. The crew, once a vibrant team of explorers, had dwindled in both hope and numbers. Fear and uncertainty loomed like shadows, growing darker with each passing day.

"We need to find a habitable planet," Elias muttered, studying the latest scans on the console. "We can’t keep wandering aimlessly. There has to be something out here."

Just as those words left his lips, the ship's long-range sensors pinged. Rhea’s fingers flew over the controls, enhancing the data. A planet—small, yet potentially habitable—floated 0.5 light-years ahead. The readings were incomplete, but it held the promise of oxygen and water.

"This might be our only chance," Elias said, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Set a course. Let’s see if fate has finally given us a way out."

The ship trembled as it adjusted its trajectory, engines groaning under the strain of limited power. The journey took seven days, time spent in both anticipation and anxiety. Crew members prepared for an expedition, their survival instincts sharpening as the planet loomed larger in their viewscreen.

When they entered orbit, what they saw left them breathless. The planet was shrouded in thick violet clouds, its surface a patchwork of deep blue oceans and towering, jagged landmasses. Strange electrical storms danced across the atmosphere, sending arcs of energy crackling through the sky.

"It's beautiful," whispered Ensign Carter, eyes wide with wonder.

"It's dangerous," Rhea countered. "The storms could fry our systems if we're not careful. We need a safe descent path."

Elias nodded. "Find one fast. We’re running out of time."

With precise calculations, they managed to break through the atmosphere, landing on a rocky plateau near what appeared to be a freshwater lake. As they stepped onto alien soil, their boots sank slightly into soft, violet-hued moss. The air, though heavy with an unfamiliar scent, was breathable.

Hope surged in Elias’s chest. "Let’s set up base camp. If this planet is stable, we may have found our new home."

But as the team began unloading supplies, a deep, resonant hum echoed through the landscape. The ground trembled. From the jagged cliffs beyond, shadowy figures emerged—tall, slender beings with luminous eyes and armor-like exoskeletons.

Elias slowly raised his hands, signaling no harm. His heart pounded as one of the beings stepped forward, eyes locking onto his. Then, in a voice both melodic and commanding, the creature spoke.

"You are not the first," it said.

The crew exchanged uneasy glances.

Elias swallowed. "Then who came before us?"

The being’s Gaze darkened. "The ones who never left."

A cold chill ran down Elias’s spine. Their rescue had become a question not of survival, but of escape.

And the abyss still waited to claim them.