The storm had passed, but the silence it left behind felt heavier than the wind ever had.

Glacien X lay perfectly still, as though smoothing its own surface after the violent eruption from below. The team moved slowly along the ice ridge, keeping close together, their helmets glowing faintly in the blue-white dark. The stars above glittered like frost trapped in black velvet, and the moonlight cast long, sharp reflections across the fractured ground.

But the silence wasn’t empty.

It felt laden, like the air was holding its breath.

Aria walked a few steps ahead, scanning the terrain. The ice beneath her boots gave off faint micro-crack noises — nothing dangerous, just the creaking of a planet perpetually frozen. But tonight those sounds felt… intentional.

Behind her, Jonah adjusted the comms relay pack on his back. “Signal’s unstable again. Same static bursts as before.”

“Storm interference?” Soren asked.

“Maybe. But the storm’s gone. So… no.”

Elias exhaled slowly. “It’s the ice. It’s interfering somehow.”

Mira halted the group with a raised hand. “Explain.”

Elias tapped the device attached to his wrist; thin lines of green data scrolled across his visor. “The fractal-tissue samples from the Awakening Pit — they carry conductive properties. Low-frequency, but complex. Almost like a biological network.”

Jonah groaned. “So the planet is hijacking our comms?”

Aria didn’t take her eyes off the ground. “Not the planet. Something inside it.”

Vincent said nothing at all. He hadn’t spoken much since Episode 5 — since the moment he noticed the second perfect circle forming deeper in the valley. Since he admitted he felt “watched.”

Now he simply scanned the distant fields of ice, his breath fogging heavily inside his visor.

Mira continued forward, careful, deliberate. “We stick together. Five-meter formation. Slow pace. We return to Base Pod A, get the heaters online, and recalibrate every sensor we’ve got.”

Jonah muttered, “Because nothing says ‘safe’ like a metal hut on top of a living ice organ.”

Soren shot him a look. “Not helping.”

But before Mira could silence them, something shifted below the ice.

Not the deep pulse.
Not the slow heartbeat.

Something new.

A muffled clatter. Like stones moving.
Like bones shifting.

Jonah froze mid-step. “Tell me someone heard that.”

Aria turned her head sharply. “South-east. Two meters under.”

Vincent whispered, “It’s following us…”

Mira pivoted. “Hold positions.”

Everyone stopped.

And the sound stopped too.

“Movement sync,” Elias said under his breath. “It stopped when we did.”

They stood absolutely still.

For three long seconds, there was nothing.

Then—

CRACK…
…CRACK.

Small. Precise.
Just beneath their feet.
As though something were carefully testing the surface tension.

Vincent stumbled back, panic lacing his voice. “It’s right under us.”

Mira’s voice stayed steel-hard. “Nobody run. Running creates stress fractures.”

Jonah adjusted his seismic pack. “Sure. Let’s die calmly then.”

Aria ignored him, crouching low, placing a gloved hand flat against the ice again.

The ice was cold as death.

And then she felt it.

Not a tremor.
Not a beat.
Not a vibration.

A shape.

The faintest impression — something massive gliding beneath her palm, moving parallel to her, almost mirroring her position.

Her throat tightened. “Captain… it’s matching my hand.”

Elias stepped forward, panic flaring. “Aria, get back!”

“Wait,” Mira said.

Aria moved her hand slowly to her left.

A second later, a ripple glided under the ice… moving the same direction.

She stopped her hand.
It stopped.

She moved her hand two inches forward.

It followed precisely.

Everyone stood in horrified silence as Aria exhaled shakily.

“…It’s learning us.”

Elias stepped next to her, pointing a scanner downward. “It’s reflecting movement patterns. Not just vibrations — behavior.”

The scanner emitted a faint click. Elias froze, checked the reading again.

The tissue signature was the same as the samples from the Awakening Pit.

“That proves it,” he murmured. “It’s part of the same organism. Maybe even the same body.”

Jonah scoffed nervously. “So what, this whole planet is one giant… frozen monster?”

No one answered.

Mira activated her external lights, illuminating the ground around them.

The ice under Aria glowed faintly — fractal lines tracing the path of the creature’s movement, like illuminated veins.

The lines pulsed once.

And a whisper drifted through their comms.

But not from any of them.

A layered, distorted echo of Mira’s own voice:

“—Hold positions. Hold positions. Hold pos—”

Mira stiffened. “That wasn’t me.”

Jonah checked his display. “It’s bouncing our comms back at us. But delayed. Like… recorded.”

Elias shook his head. “No. Not recorded.”

They all turned toward him.

He swallowed.

“Imitated.”

The wind picked up, carrying a low howl across the plains. But beneath the wind, the comms crackled once more.

This time they heard Soren’s voice whisper:

“—Don’t move… don’t… don’t move—”

Soren’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”

Aria stood, backing away from the glowing ice. “Captain, we need to move. Now.”

Mira finally gave the order. “Form up. Keep your steps light. Do not speak unless necessary.”

They resumed walking.

Slow. Methodical.

But now, with every step they took, the shape beneath the ice glided with them — a dark silhouette, faint but unmistakable.

It moved in perfect sync:

When they paused…
It paused.

When they shifted direction…
It shifted too.

Jonah whispered, “It’s like we’re tethered.”

“No,” Vincent said, voice brittle. “It’s hunting. And we’re the bait.”

Mira inhaled sharply but kept her composure. “Stay focused. We’re ninety meters from the base pod. Once we’re inside, we can isolate signals, strengthen the barrier—”

Her helmet pinged with an alert.

Everyone’s helmets pinged.

A sudden surge of static spilled into their comms — sharp, distorted, like the ice itself was exhaling.

Then the whispers came again.

Not one voice.
Not an echo.

Dozens.

All of them layered copies of the crew:

“—Captain—”
“—Move—”
“—Don’t breathe—”
“—Leave—”
“—Help me—”
“—Aria—”
“—Jonah—”

Each phrase overlapped, melted, stretched — as though something under the ice was struggling to speak through a throat of frozen stone.

Jonah panicked. “Turn it off—turn it off—turn it off—”

“Stay calm,” Mira ordered.

“It’s mimicking us,” Elias whispered. “It’s testing communication. Or—or memory.”

Vincent’s voice cracked: “Why does it want our voices?!”

Aria stopped walking.

Everyone froze.

She stared downward.

The silhouette had stopped too… but now it was rising.
Slowly.
Deliberately.

“Captain,” she breathed, “it’s lifting closer to the surface.”

The ice beneath them thinned, glowing faintly as the black mass pressed against it from below.

Elias scanned frantically. “It’s generating heat—enough to weaken the top layers.”

“Meaning?” Jonah asked.

“It wants to break through.”

The ice gave a soft groan — like something ancient stretching after a long sleep.

Mira slowly raised her weapon.

“Back away,” she whispered. “Don’t run. Just move.”

They stepped back together.

And the shape beneath the ice glided backward in perfect synchronization — almost gracefully.

Like a shadow tethered to their movements.

Aria whispered, “Mira… it knows us.”

Vincent shook his head violently. “Then why is it still down there?”

The wind died.

The whispers stopped.

The heartbeat stilled.

And the ice beneath them suddenly became dark again — opaque, unreadable.

Elias exhaled shakily. “Is it… gone?”

Aria shook her head, stepping closer to Mira. “No. It’s listening.”

A moment of terrifying stillness settled over the team.

And then — like a voice spoken from the bottom of a frozen ocean — the comms crackled once more.

Only one word emerged.

Not echoed.
Not borrowed.

A new voice.

Raw. Wet. Guttural.

“…Hello.”

The team jerked back instinctively.

Soren nearly dropped his medpack. Jonah fumbled with the seismic scanner. Elias stumbled as the wind picked up again, sweeping ice crystals across their visors.

Aria’s knees buckled.

She felt the word.
Not heard — felt.

It vibrated through the ice, through her bones, through the air.

Mira’s voice cracked. “Everyone — move. Now.”

They resumed marching toward Base Pod A.

But none of them realized the truth yet.

The shape beneath the ice wasn’t following them anymore.

It was leading them.