1. The crash
I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is a system message in front of me:
From: System Subject: Emergency landing The vessel has made an unplanned surface impact on planetary body Tarsys-4. Cryptosleep for all crew members has been forcibly terminated. All personnel are to proceed with designated mission-critical functions immediately. Crew task directives are as follows:
- Captain Marek Hoster: Initiate distress signal transmission. Conduct crew status verification.
- Xenopsychologist Sao Ven: Act as executive officer; assist the captain as required.
- Engineer Remi Dacco: Assess structural integrity of the ship. Inspect emergency equipment. Initiate repairs if feasible.
- Pilot Eilin Toras: Evaluate the internal systems and communications array. If conditions permit, attempt diagnostics and restoration.
- Biologist Liam Grehem: Analyze atmospheric composition and terrain features. Validate suit integrity for extravehicular operations. Maintain protocol adherence. Remain alert and operational.
I tried to remember who I am… Liam Grehem, right? I push the lid of my cryocapsule and see that the room is tilted at a forty-five-degree angle. It is dim and full of smoke. I hear a soft hum of electricity and see a red flashing light on the ceiling. The room is full of capsules like mine.
The others…
I open the capsule next to mine. “Eilin, are you okay?”
She groans. “My head is about to burst open. But yeah, I’m okay. What the hell has happened?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up, too.” I help her get up. She is wearing only her thin cryosuit, and it is cold. She shivers.
Nearby, the captain opens his capsule and sits up.
He looks around. “What the hell?” He quickly starts checking the other capsules. “Phew, everyone seems okay.”
He looks at us. “Eilin, Liam, you are the first ones up. Good. Is the communications room still intact? We need to set up a transmission to Kyriah headquarters.”
“I’ll go check,” she says. She is already looking more alert. She climbs through the wreckage toward the communication room and disappears through the hatch.
“Right,” says the captain. “Now let’s wake up the rest of the crew.”
The captain is standing in the center of the room. He clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“Hello, everyone. Welcome to Tarsys-4. I’m sorry about the rough landing. Sadly, our communication module is broken. We are on an unexplored planet, and we should be careful. As you know, this is not a terraforming mission. We will stay here until our distress signal is picked up. This should not take long, perhaps a few weeks.”
Sao Ven, the xenopsychologist, raises a hand. “How do we know it will be picked up at all? We were supposed to land on Kyriah. Now we are somewhere else. And if our communications array doesn’t work, what makes you think our distress signal does?”
“We will work on that. At the moment the crash, the ship should automatically send an distress signal, though it is not guaranteed.”
He sighs and continues, “Anyway, back to work. Please, each crew member, report the status. I will start: all crew members are in stable health, and emergency instructions are assigned. Now I will proceed on assessing the danger level.”
Remi stands up and shakes his head: “As the captain said, the communication module is broken, but the ship’s main module integrity seems fine. So, at least we have a lot of time until the air and supplies run out. The head module is not responding, so I assume heavy damage. The auto-repairing system is not working. Most drones survived, and I can start sending them out to scouting. One generator is broken, the other survived. That’s all for now.” He nods and sits back down.
Sao Ven raises her hand: “I don’t have much to say. All crew members are in a stable mental state but experience an increased stress level. All contact protocols are prepared and awaiting scouting.”
Eilin sighs like the captain: “I’m still investigating the cause of our troubles—including decoding FDR—but it will take time. The AI system is operating correctly, and after ship self-analysis was completed, we can say that for an unknown reason, the ship got hit with some electromagnetic wave, which blinded it and affected its course. After that, the ship collided with a unknown high-velocity space object, which greatly impacted the course and led to the crash landing. Thankfully, the landing protocol did its best, and we ended up on a hard surface with minimum amount of damage.”
Remi bitterly grins: “Minimum amount of damage, you say… And we can’t even transmit an SOS signal.”
The captain looks at me: “So, what’s around?”
I have some good news: “Well, the temperature around is moderate - Eilin, I see you smiling, moderate in biological terms, not space terms - there is heavy forest around, most of the cameras are covered in dirt, and require cleaning, but no massive movement is detected. Assuming the presence of the trees, there should be some fauna, because that kind of ecosystem requires a lot of consumers. We are still working on air sampling - I’m sorry for my paranoia - but I will set biological danger level as BHA-4 until my test says the opposite.”
Marek frowns: “So, full isolation, only full suit expedition, right?”
“Yes, we have three working full-protection suits right now.”
“So, basically, two are available - one will be reserved for rescue missions. Everyone, please grab your communication glasses - all reports from now on will be in written form, for recording purposes. Liam, please continue your tests. Remi, run the scout drone and try to enable the auto-repairing system. Using one suit, start checking other modules. And, please, help me check the medical module. Eilin will continue the decoding and help Remi with drones. Sao, I will ask you to check supplies and prepare some meals.”
We all get down to work on our tasks.
I return to my room. The lab is not big. In its center, there are my workplace and a big display, with a smaller one attached to the left, and on the right there is a big glass chamber with a sterile environment to examine any object. All the necessary tools are stored a little bit further. Next to the wall there is a test table with a lot of sensors, test tubes and a microscope. There is a lot of equipment, but not all of it is in perfect shape.
Thankfully, all equipment was bolted down and secured before we set off our voyage. I am still in awe of the foresight that went into packing everything for this journey, and how meticulously everything was organized. Still, some tools got damaged, and the air testing device needs a replacement part, but most of the equipment survived the crash. I recheck the camera: the forest is still there.
I return to my screen and start analyzing the data from the camera and sensors. After a few minutes, I have a preliminary analysis ready - the air is not dangerous, at least around the ship. I send my report to the captain. He responds immediately:
From: Captain Marek Hoster Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re: Biological danger Thank you for the report. Please prepare an expedition to the surface, and take the following tools with you…
After a few hours of preparation, Remi and I are ready to venture outside. Remi needs to check the exterior of the ship and clean the cameras, and I need to take samples of the fauna and soil. For safety reasons, he has a shocker rifle with him.
We put on our full-protection suits and open the outer hatch. We step outside. The air is warm and humid, and the light is bright, even in the shadow of the ship. Everything is green. There are giant trees around us. We walk toward the closest one. The ground is soft, covered with moss and leaves. I crouch and touch it. It is wet and cold.
“Ground seems stable…” Remi mumbles to himself. “Ship won’t sink or something, probably.”
He takes some pictures and starts cleaning the ship’s cameras. The ship’s exterior is a mess: some parts are torn apart, and others look like they have been through a fire. It’s a miracle that we are alive. I take some samples of moss and leaves and put them into a container. Then I walk a little farther away from the ship and spot a small squirrel-like creature. I take out my camera and snap a picture of it.
“Sooo, how are your drones?” I feel not too safe walking in unknown territory.
“I managed to send out one drone, and the area about a kilometer around is safe - no big animals or any terrain issues. No sign of intelligent life either. Poor Sao will be disappointed. The rest of drones are locked under damaged ship exterior walls.”
“Good to hear.” I sigh and start preparing my portable air tester. “I need to take some air samples, please stay close.”
I take out a tube and put it in the tester. It starts analyzing the air. I walk to the ship and take another sample there, then walk a few steps back and take one more, and finally walk back to the ship and take one last sample.
“I will go inside and check these. See you in a bit.”
I return to the lab and start running the tests on the air samples. The tests will take a few hours, as we need to see if any dangerous organisms grow in them. I have time to read other reports…
From: Engineer Remi Dacco Subject: Re:Re:Ship structural integrity The ship’s condition is bad, and only the living module is fully intact. The head module is damaged. Most of the systems there are broken or disconnected, so no idea how badly damaged it is. We need to repair the auto-repair system, and then the drones will fix the head module, and we will see the full picture of the damage.
The auto-repair system can be used to fix almost any damage to the ship, but of course, it’s the first thing that breaks in a crash landing. I continue reading reports.
From: Captain Marek Hoster Subject: Mission plan Due to the ship’s poor state, our mission is to survive until the rescue team arrives. We have enough supplies, water, and air to survive for a few years, and the ship is designed to be habitable in the long term. But without the ability to send a distress call, the rescue team might never find us, or it may take many years for them to do so. We need to fix the ship, but not all systems are required for our survival. So, for now, we will focus on the SOS transmitter, communication array, and navigation module. If we manage to fix those, we can call for help and find our way back to Kyriah. If we don’t, we will have to learn to live on this planet, as we might remain stranded here for a long time.
I hope the captain is wrong, and the rescue team will arrive soon. I have no intention of staying here any longer than necessary. But I know that the chances of that are slim.
From: Xenopsychologist Sao Ven Subject: Psychological evaluation The crew is in a good mood and has a high morale level, despite the situation. They are confident that we will be rescued soon. However, they are also concerned about the possibility of being stranded on this planet for a long time. I will monitor the crew’s mental state and provide counseling as needed. If the rescue team does not arrive within a few weeks, the crew’s morale will start to decline. The group therapy sessions will be required to prevent the crew from becoming depressed or anxious.
A few weeks? That’s not much time. I hope we can fix the ship and call for help before then. But if not, at least Sao will help us cope with the situation. I continue reading reports.
From: Pilot Eilin Toras Subject: Decoding FDR The flight data recorder is damaged, but I managed to extract some data from it. The ship was hit by a stream of a space debris, which caused a series of system failures, leading to the crash landing. A meteor shower most likely caused the debris stream. The ship’s navigational systems were unable to detect the debris because the meteor shower was too close to the planet’s atmosphere. The ship’s communication systems were also got damaged before the collision due to strange EMP waves, and the navigation system was not able to compensate for it. The ship was not able to evade the debris, and the collision led to a crash landing. The source of EMP is still unclear - either a malfunction or some unknown space anomaly.
Time to return to my tests. I need to provide a report, too…
From: Biologist Liam Grehem Subject: Biological status The air is clear. There are no known dangerous bacteria or viruses, and there is no radiation above the background level. Air can be used without the filtration system, though I suggest continuing to use it anyway until we can thoroughly analyze the environment and any potential threats. The forest around is rich in fauna, but there is no sight of intelligent life. There are no water sources nearby. Some small animals are present, but they do not seem to be a threat to humans. I suggest further scouting and collecting the samples of fauna for analysis.
After sending the message, I return to my work. I need to finish the tests and analyze the results. I need to know what kind of planet this is and what kind of life forms are here. I need to know if there is anything that can harm us. I have a lot of work to do, but I am determined to do it.
From: Biologist Liam Grehem Subject: Flora analysis Preliminary botanical survey yielded two samples of note: Grass-like specimen #G1: Cell structure: reinforced by unusually high ferric compound deposition (estimated at 8.2% by dry weight). Soil analysis suggests the presence of localized ferrous ore deposits within a 5–8 km radius. Recommend scheduling further ground-penetrating scans to confirm mineral density. Moss specimen #M1: Active secretion of volatile organic compounds (VOCs) identified. Primary compounds include a series of beta-lactam derivatives and polyketide-related structures, typically associated with antifungal properties in Terran equivalents. Functional role within the local ecosystem remains undetermined at this stage. Hypotheses include environmental competition suppression or symbiotic regulation. Extended biochemical analysis ongoing. No immediate hazards detected. Handling protocols remain at Biohazard Level BHA-2 pending further review.
A-a-and sent. Oh, the captain has sent a message too.
From: Captain Marek Hoster Subject: Night routine Due to the fact that the danger level is still unknown, all crew are required to spend the night inside the main module. Crew members are allowed to sleep in the recreation area. All outer hatches will remain locked, and all sensors will be active. If you hear any alarms or strange noises, please report them immediately. I will stay in the main room, so I will be available to answer any questions or concerns you may have. I hope everyone has a good night’s sleep. Please remember to lock the inner hatches before going to bed. Thank you for your cooperation.
Oh, no. Sleeping in cryptosleep capsules is not very comfortable, especially when the floor is tilted at an unusual angle.
I leave the lab and head to the main room. The rest of the crew is already there. They are setting up their beds. I set up my bed and lie down. The lights are turned off, and the room is dark.
The ship is quiet, and everyone is asleep. I lie awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about the crash and what it means for us. I get up and walk to the window. Suddenly, I hear a strange sound, like a very distant roar. Huh…
Without hesitation, I wake up Marek and Remi, explaining what has just happened. They both have a worried look on their faces, and Marek tells me to go to sleep while he and Remi investigate it with drones. I nod and go back to my bed, but I can’t fall asleep. I lie in my bed, thinking about the sound I’ve heard. What was it? Where did it come from? And what does it mean for us?
Eventually, fatigue overtakes me, and I drift off into a restless sleep.
I wake up early. The ship is still dark and quiet. When I stand up, I notice that neither Marek nor Remi is in their “beds.” I check my portable computer and find some new messages.
The first one, from Remi, doesn’t contain any text, just a sound file. Apparently, it is that roar that I need to analyze. The second one is from the captain: “Come to the bridge. Urgent.”
I hurry to the control room, where Marek and Remi are already waiting for me. They look concerned. All monitors display a variety of photos, apparently taken from drones.
“Liam, good morning. It will be a busy day for you. We have two big news, a bad one and a …vague one.”
“The bad one, I guess, is that trace?” I point to one photo displaying a noticeable trail of fallen trees going through the forest.
“Yes, last night we were not alone. Something was here, something big, judging by the scale of destruction it left. We need to find out what it is and how dangerous it can be. That’s why we need you to analyze that roar and maybe run some tests on the trace. Can you do it?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll do it right away. What’s the other news?”
“There’s more to it. At the end of the trail, we spotted a vast area of scorched earth stretching for several kilometers in every direction.”
“Oh…”
“And then, we found… the vague news. We discovered a new biome. On its way back, the drone traced the borderline between the forest biome and the new one, and we estimated that its closest point is about 10 kilometers from our ship.”
Marek points to another photo. A photograph showing an unusual biome: twisted, dead-looking trees appear partially melted or warped, with heavy clusters of strange, bulbous growths hanging from their branches. The ground beneath is covered in an indistinct substance—impossible to determine if it’s water, thick grass, or something else entirely. The distorted shapes of the trees resemble bizarre, unsettling figures, creating a landscape that feels unfamiliar and inexplicably alien.
“That’s… unusual. What do we know about it?” I stare at the photo, trying to make sense of what I see.
“We have been sending drones as far as we can, but so far, we have only seen a small part. It’s a vast area, and the drones currently available to us can’t cover the entire area. It’s too far away. So, what can we say?” Remi shrugs. “It’s definitely not a place I would want to go to.”
“Yeah, me neither. But what if there’s something noteworthy there? Something we need to know about? Or what if it’s dangerous? We can’t just ignore it.” Marek looks at me. “That’s why we need you to study it. You’re the best biologist we’ve got.”
“Wait, you mean you want me to go there?”
“Well, not right now, of course. We need to get drones closer to this zone to learn more about it. But eventually, yes, could you go there and explore it?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I sigh. “But first, I need to figure out what that sound was.”
I’m sitting in my lab, reviewing the results of the sound analysis.
From: Biologist Liam Grehem Subject: Sound analysis The recording begins with a deep, resonant vocalization characteristic of a large, chest-driven mammal or reptilian megafauna. The growl is sustained, guttural, and layered with subharmonic overtones consistent with a laryngeal structure of considerable mass and complexity. However, at the 4.2-second mark, the sound abruptly destabilizes. The fundamental pitch wavers, sharpens, then fragments into a series of short, high-pitched bursts. Notably, these interruptions are irregular and occur with increasing frequency and volume. These bursts do not align with known distress calls or aggression markers in apex predators. Instead, they exhibit unexpected tonal qualities: staccato intervals, elevated harmonics, and what appears to be rhythmic vocal spasms interspersed with growl-like resonance. At 6.7 seconds, the original growl momentarily returns, only to be immediately overwritten by another sequence of fragmented vocalization, suggesting either external stimulation of a reflexive response or involuntary neuromotor feedback. No known species matches the audio profile. The accompanying tracks suggest an organism of extreme scale. No visuals. Subject unidentified.
The result is not good. Whatever made that noise is enormous, and we have no idea what it is. And the fact that the sound became strange at the end is even worse. It means that whatever it is, it is not behaving as it should. Maybe it is sick. Either way, we need to be careful. I sigh and send the report.
The photos are way more interesting. They reveal a deep, irregular trench slicing through the forest floor like a wound. Entire rows of trees have been flattened in uneven intervals—some snapped clean at the base, others twisted and sheared off as if by immense rotational force. When I zoom in, I can recognize six massive depressions in the soil, repeating in a distinct pattern. Each print is nearly five meters long, slightly oblong, with serrated edges where pressure had cracked the earth. The arrangement hinted at six-point locomotion. Each print is broad and textured, suggesting thick, pressure-absorbing tissue not unlike that of large terrestrial predators. But what get me is the claw marks: three curved grooves at the front of each footprint, arching slightly inward, as if gripping the ground with every step. The length and curve of the claw impressions were far too elongated for herbivores or passive feeders. These aren’t the blunt, splayed tracks of a forager. The front-most prints are more profound and more pronounced, as if the bulk of its weight was shifted forward—another marker of a predatory gait.
Estimates based on track spacing and depth suggest the creature measures approximately 90 to 100 meters in total length, with a width of at least 25 meters. Its full mass remains unquantified, but the scale and impact force indicate a weight well beyond any known terrestrial organism.
The drone didn’t manage to take a picture of whatever made that trench, but we have a partial track of the trail. And the direction of it leads… the unknown biome.
The photos with scorched earth don’t help either. The source of the fire remains unknown - it could be anything related to geological sources, such as an underground magma channel, natural gas, or … the creature.
Another unsettling thing that I realize is that there’s no trace back. Whatever it was, it came from that direction and went into the new biome. It’s not a coincidence. But why? Was it hunting? Or was something repelling it? We need to find out. I send an additional report to the captain and start preparing the equipment for the expedition. This will be a long day.
I return to the captain’s bridge.
“Hello, Liam.” He waves his hand. “I received your report. This is not good.”
The captain looks tired, probably he hasn’t slept since the incident.
“Yeah, I know.” I sit down next to him. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure.” He shakes his head. “Your report creates even more questions.”
I giggle a bit. “That’s how science works.”
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs. “We need to figure out what that thing is and if it’s a threat to us. But we also need to know what that new biome is. And why the creature came from that direction. I think the best course of action would be to go there and investigate, but it’s a dangerous endeavor. We have no idea what’s out there. And we are not equipped for combat.”
“That will be still better than waiting for it to crush our ship…”
Marek nods. “Still… It’s a hard decision.”
Suddenly, I get an idea: “Send the sound to our linguist. High pitches and high frequency may suggest a language.”
Marek looks at me with suspicion. “You think that a 100-meter-long predator was not good enough, so you want it to be intelligent?”
“I don’t want it to be. I just propose a course of action.” I shrug.
“Okay, let’s see what Sao Ven can get from that.” Marek nods and forwards the sound file to her. We wait a few minutes.
Finally, we receive a message:
From: Xenopsychologist Sao Ven Subject: Sound analysis The sound is very unusual and doesn’t match any known language or communication pattern. However, it’s not impossible that it’s some sort of a primitive language. However, it’s also possible that it’s just a form of animal communication. I’m not an expert on this, so I can’t say for sure. I need more data to make a definitive conclusion. The only thing I can say for sure is that the sound is not a random noise. There is some sort of pattern to it, but I can’t decipher it.
“That’s not very helpful,” Marek grunts.
The captain’s fingers drum against the console, but I can see the gears turning behind his eyes—calculating risks, weighing options. After two minutes of silence, he sighs out: “Remi, Liam, you two are going to get samples. Prepare the rifle and all necessary equipment. You will start from this area,” he points at place where scorched earth starts, “and then proceed along the trail to the new biome. All clear?”
We both nod and leave the bridge.
The moment we step into the forest, the air changes—thicker, heavier, like breathing through a wet cloth. The canopy above is so dense it swallows the light, leaving us in a perpetual twilight. My boots sink into the mud with every step, the weight of the sampling kit pulling at my shoulders like a pile of rocks. Remi grunts ahead, his movements deliberate, but even he can’t hide the labored rhythm of his breath.
After a long hour of walking, we finally emerge from the forest onto the trail. We take off our backpacks and sit down for several minutes to catch our breath. I slowly look around and freeze. Beside clearly visible footprints of the giant monster, I notice several claw marks on trees: way smaller, but they are still way bigger than I want them to be.
Remi follows my glance and exclaims: “Woah, pretty big predators, right?”
I take a several photos of the marks, trying to understand the direction and time they were left. Traces looks quite old and dry, which means from several days to several weeks. I additionally take the sample from the claw marks - maybe there are some interesting organic traces left.
At the same time, Remi is preparing his drones, turning on the control panel. Two drones lift off, one of them hovers above us, and the second one starts circling around.
I open comm console and send a basic report of our initial findings.
Remi’s drone hums overhead, its camera sweeping the terrain. The second drone, smaller and more agile, zips toward the scorched earth ahead. I watch the drone as it hovers, its sensors flickering. “What’s it seeing?” I ask.
“Thermal map,” Remi replies. “It will help us to understand how much of the heat there was initially. But the final numbers will be available only after I load all data to the main computer. So far it looks like the fire was about four days ago, with initial temperature above thousand Kelvin. Pretty hot, right? What organic matter could produce such heat?”
“Certain chemical reactions involving specialized organic compounds can achieve extremely high combustion temperatures. For instance, organometallic complexes or phosphorus-based bio-compounds are capable of intense, rapid exothermic reactions.” I shrug. “Anyway, it’s hard to say it right now, I will take the samples of the burned earth, too, probably it will help. But without identifying the initial components, it’s hard to predict the exact reaction that could produce such heat.”
“As Marek would say, you create more questions.” He slightly giggles. “If you have finished here, let’s go to the swamps.”
We walk a bit to the south, with two drones still following us, Remi looks at the panel from time to time. After the scorched patch, the ground becomes wet really fast, each step pulling me deeper into the sludge as if the swamp itself is trying to swallow us whole. My boots squelch with every movement, and the drones’ hum seems louder here, as though the dense humidity amplifies the sound.
“Let’s stop there. I’d rather not suddenly drown in a swamp.” Remi stops to adjust something on his panel, probably keep seeking for thermal anomalies. I take another sample of the ‘water’. Basically, my work here is done. I’m already anticipating another night in the lab…
“Crap!” Remi exclaims suddenly. “We need to get out of here, now! Run!”
“What?” I try my best to follow Remi. It’s very hard to run on that sort of terrain. “Is it the big one?”
Remi shakes his head, “No, the predators that left smaller marks. Several of them. Very fast.”
Just at the time we make onto the solid ground, I see them. Three creatures.
They stand nearly three meters tall, broad-shouldered and powerful, their bodies covered in dense, dark scales that catch the light with a dull sheen. Muscles ripple beneath their armored skin as they shift, every movement economical, tense — like predators ready to spring.
Their heads are angular and sharply defined, with tapered snouts and a row of exposed fangs that protrude even when their jaws are closed. Small, backward-curving horns crown their brows, and three pairs of eyes study their surroundings with unsettling intensity. One main set, wide and focused, is flanked by two smaller pairs — slightly sunken, twitching independently, scanning in constant motion.
From their backs unfold leathery wings, tucked tightly for now, the edges shifting subtly as if tasting the air. A thick tail extends behind each of them, swaying low with slow, controlled heavy movement — more a weapon than a limb.
Their limbs are digitigrade — jointed for speed and strength. Their hands end in long, clawed fingers, agile and deadly, while their legs bend in a way that hints at both balance and explosive force. They don’t fidget — they simply wait, tense and watching.
The air is thick with the sour tang of decay, and my pulse thrums in my ears. The creatures don’t move, but their eyes—those three pairs of them—track us with a precision that makes my skin prickle. One of them tilts its head, the exposed fangs glinting like broken glass. I can’t tell if it’s assessing us or simply tasting the air.
“Don’t make any sudden moves,” Remi whispers, his voice low and tight. His hand hovers near the rifle slung across his chest, but he doesn’t draw it. Not yet.
The creature takes a step forward. The mud squelches under its weight, but it moves with eerie silence—no sound, just the slow, deliberate shift of its bulk. Its three pairs of eyes lock onto me. I can’t tell if it’s assessing us, or if it has already decided we’re prey.
My breath is shallow, my fingers tightening around the sampling kit. Remi still hovers his hand near his rifle, but his eyes are fixed on the creature’s wings. They’re not fully unfurled, but the leathery edges twitch, as if testing the air. I wonder if they’re used for flight, or for something more sinister.
The creature tilts its head again, the fangs glinting. I notice now that its snout is lined with tiny, backward-facing pores—maybe scent receptors? It’s sniffing us, but the air is thick with the swamp’s rot, so I don’t know if it’s detecting us, or just tasting the world.
Suddenly, a massive lump of dirt lands on the creature’s head. It jumps back, trying to clean its eyes with its upper limbs. Others instantly drop low, and I notice flames growing in their mouths. Eh, can they breath fire? I wish I could study one of them in the lab…
When I turn a little to see where the attack came from, I notice another batch of mud balls flying toward the monsters. This time they manage to dodge them, but the “artillery” continues. That lizard, that had it onto its face, can’t evade, and two more balls hit its torso. The creature roars, but the roar suddenly switches to intermittent high pitch. It sounds like the audio from last night! The creature falls on its back and starts rolling around, using all its limbs to remove the mud. Though, after closer inspection, the substance I had first taken for dirt begins to spread across the creature’s body. So, the sound is probably some sort of nociceptive reflex…
“Remi, the mud balls are apparently toxic or poisonous. Stay low.” I whisper. He looks at me, and tilts his head to the side, as if asking to go.
I look back, and see that a few distant figures—more like a piles of mud—are slowly approaching. The stream of fire roars past me, targeting those mud creatures. But they seem unaffected, and keep bombarding the lizard monsters. We slowly start moving to the side, trying to get out of the battlefield. I see one of the lizards breath fire on the damaged one, and it stands back, drawing ragged breaths.
The mud balls splatter against the lizard’s scales once more, and for a moment, I think I see something weird—like the mud is moving. The lizard’s body writhes, like it’s trying to scratch an itch it can’t reach. The mud isn’t just sticking to the lizard’s scales. It’s creeping under them. The creature lets out a high-pitched screech, its three pairs of eyes blinking rapidly. It’s not just pain—it’s panic.
Then I see the next mud ball hit another lizard. This one freezes mid-step. Its tail stiffens, and its wings twitch like a broken puppet. The mud is spreading across its body, and suddenly, it collapses to the ground, thrashing wildly. Immediately, the last standing one tries to help, covering its “friends” with fire.
Remi grabs my arm, pulling me backward. “We need to go now.” I nod, and we run. My breath ragged, my mind racing. I can’t shake the image of that mud moving under their scales, like something alive—like a parasite or a chemical reaction eating away at their armor.
The battle is left behind, as the lizards slowly retreat, barely managing to clean themselves from the mud. After running about fifty meters, I slow down. “Remi, I can’t run anymore. Additionally, it doesn’t look like they have any interest in us.”
“Just. Keep. Moving!” Remi barks at me, clearly panting too. And we move, until the only sounds we can hear are trees rumbling and our hearts beating heavily.
The decontamination chamber hisses as the last of the chemical spray evaporates, leaving a sharp, metallic tang in the air. Remi’s hunched over the console, calibrating the drone’s sensors, while I stare at the sealed containment unit in the lab—our only physical evidence of the swamp’s horrors.
Marek’s voice cuts through the hum of the machines. “Report. Now.”
I straighten, my throat dry. “We encountered several alien species. I think Remi has a video from the drone. After meeting the first one, who seems honestly very dangerous, another alien specie appeared and started a fight with the first one. The first specie clearly possesses ability to breath fire. Regarding the second one, everything is unknown, as we could see them only from the distance, but they can attack with packets of some sort of substance. Currently, it’s unclear if it’s mud from the swamp itself or it’s mixed with their own secrets. Sadly, we didn’t get the sample of their attack.”
Marek frowns. “Conclusion?”
I shrug. “We got caught up between in the confrontation between them. It’s not clear what will happen if they won’t fight each other. I recommend to avoid swamp for now, using only drones to further analysis. I also highly concern about the swamp itself - but I need to process the samples first.”
Marek looks at Remi. “Any additions?”
Remi takes a deep breath. “The creatures are clearly intelligence in some way. They definitely helped each other, but we didn’t hear anything resembling speech. Not sure about the mud ones. Here’s the video, by the way.” He waves his hand to the console, where we can see a fragment of the encounter, including the battle. Oh, Remi withdrew his drones a bit later, so they recorded the rest of the battle: the lizard monsters managed to retreat after a lot of struggle with the mud. The mud creatures didn’t come to the meadow, or the drones just weren’t there for long enough.
Marek nods. “Liam, please, continue with the sample analysis. Remi, send the video to Sao, she will check if there’s anything of her specialty. Can you put your drones into a patrolling mode so they detect anything dangerous ahead?”
Remi nods, and continues working with his console. I stand up and return to my lab.
The lab hums with the low whir of centrifuges and the occasional hiss of a pressure valve. I slide the containment unit onto the dissection table, my gloves already on. The mud sample is encased in a reinforced polymer shell—still damp, still alive in some way. I’ve never seen a substance behave like this. It’s not just a chemical; it’s a system. I’ll call it #F1 for now.
The microscope’s lens zooms in, and the sample comes into focus—a tangled mesh of dark, fibrous filaments, like the roots of a mangrove but pulsing faintly, as if breathing in slow, rhythmic waves. At first, it looks inert. Then, a tremor. The filaments twitch, and I lean closer.
I drop a sliver of sucrose onto the slide. Within seconds, the mud easily absorbs it and instantly starts growing.
I test several different matters, and the fungi absorb almost everything, with exception of extreme acid. For the test purpose, I also check the moss specimen #M1. To my surprise, the #F1 starts to lean away from the extract of #M1, and the edge of it become grayish. I return the sample under the microscope, and see that the gray matter is a dissolved fragments of #F1. Huh… I toggle the microscope to a higher magnification, and the filaments resolve into something almost cellular, but not quite. They’re too structured for fungi, too fluid for bacteria…
I lean back, thinking about the battle. The fire-breathing creatures—Pyrasauridae?—must’ve been trying to burn through the mud’s attack. But why would the mud target them? The event from last night was apparently another event of their conflicts. But why? Are lizards hunting the mud creatures; or does their prey live in the swamp, and the mud creature are simply higher in the food chain? We need more data…
My tablet pings. The message from Sao…
From: Xenopsychologist Sao Ven Subject: Creatures’ behaviors The mud creatures aren’t just reacting—they’re strategizing. The way they targeted the lizards’ weak points, the timing of their attacks… it’s not random. The lizards seem to act in a similar way - helping each other, and trying to avoid the battle that they can’t win. Sadly, the amount of sounds is not enough to conduct any language analysis.
As Marek would said, “not very helpful.” I need to write my report, too.
From: Biologist Liam Grehem Subject: Biological analysis The biological specimen designated #F1 exhibits morphological and behavioral characteristics inconsistent with established taxonomic classifications. Microscopic examination reveals a dense, labyrinthine network of filamentous structures displaying properties intermediate between fungal hyphae and bacterial colonies. These filaments demonstrate dynamic motility, contracting and extending in direct response to external stimuli, suggesting a form of environmental sensory capability. Notably, the structures exhibit chemotactic behavior toward biological substrates, initiating rapid envelopment and assimilation of organic matter within seconds. The observed process is indicative not of passive extracellular digestion, but of active predatory engagement. Of particular significance is the specimen’s pronounced reaction to moss extract #M1. Upon exposure, the filaments undergo immediate retraction, with distal segments undergoing rapid cytolysis and degradation into an amorphous gray colloid. This response implies a strong biochemical antagonism, potentially indicative of a defensive adaptation or interspecific competitive exclusion within the swamp ecosystem. The precise ecological relationship between #F1 and the local reptilian species provisionally classified as Pyrasauridae remains unresolved. Field observations suggest a reciprocal antagonism: elevated thermal output from Pyrasauridae appears sufficient to induce rapid mortality in #F1 colonies, while #F1 exerts an as-yet undetermined deleterious effect on the reptiles. Given behavioral indicators and acute stress responses observed during the recent nocturnal encounter, a plausible hypothesis involves the production of neurotoxic metabolites by #F1, with subsequent interference in the reptilian nervous system. Further biochemical assays are required to confirm this mechanism.
I breath out and push send button. I’m really interested in this ecosystem, I want to study it, but not when we are between some sort of biological war. War, huh… Though, Sao didn’t confirm the intelligent of the species, I feel that they doing their stuff for some purpose. For some reason they want to cross kilometers of forest just to leave some burn marks… But I’m too tired now. I just closed my eyes for a second, but instantly fall asleep.