"Wh...ere am I…? Wha...t is this pla...ce?"
Cough... cough...
His voice barely escaped his lips, each word rasping like sandpaper against his dry throat. Ayan blinked rapidly, trying to focus through the blurry haze clouding his vision. His body ached. The metallic scent of blood and burning circuits clung thickly to the air.
"I was on the spaceship… We were just about to enter the Waolk…" he muttered, his voice fragile, the sentence slipping away like smoke.
And then—
A rush.
Images slammed into his mind like a floodgate burst open—
The ship trembling violently.
A blinding white flash.
His crew screaming.
Then darkness.
He gasped, bolting upright with sudden clarity, breath ragged as the memory struck him like lightning.
"The Waolk... We were entering it... Something went wrong..."
Panic surged in his chest as his eyes scanned the dim interior of the crashed ship. Flickering emergency lights cast eerie shadows across the consoles and cracked screens. Bodies. His crewmates.
"No. No, no, no…"
Ayan stumbled from his seat, knees buckling briefly beneath him. He scrambled to the nearest crew member and checked for a pulse. Then another. And another. One by one, he confirmed—
"They're alive…"
A breath escaped him like a wave retreating from the shore. Relief. Pure, unfiltered relief.
He shook each of them gently, calling their names. One by one, groans rose as they stirred back to life, dazed and frightened. The ship had crashed—but miraculously, they had survived.
Yet something was off.
"I… I can't see anything outside," Charlotte whispered, rubbing her temples. "Is the view screen broken?"
They moved to the control panel. Ayan pressed a button to check the oxygen levels. The display blinked red.
OXYGEN: 0%
Silence. Deafening silence.
"That's… not possible," murmured Kaito, his voice barely audible. "We've been breathing. How can there be zero oxygen in the tanks?"
"Maybe… Maybe we're not floating," Ayan said slowly. "What if we've landed?"
The thought sent a chill down everyone's spine. They moved toward the exit hatch, pried it open with a hiss of pressure—and froze.
What lay beyond the threshold shattered every rule of their universe.
On one side: a dense forest cloaked in deep, radiant purple. Trees towering over fifty meters high. Giant flowers, vibrant and alive, taller than any human. The forest pulsed like a living entity.
On the other side: vast red plains, waving with crimson grass. Beyond that, jagged black mountains pierced the violet sky like the fangs of a beast.
"What the hell is this…" John muttered, awe and dread intertwining in his tone.
"It's like… like we've crossed into another world," Kaito whispered, wide-eyed. "Like those novels where the protagonist dies and wakes up somewhere else."
"Don't say that…" Charlotte's voice trembled. "Please don't say that. I… I had so many things I wanted to do after this mission…" Her breath hitched. "I don't want to die."
Fear bloomed in the air like smoke from a burning home.
Ayan clenched his fists. As captain, he couldn't let them spiral. He steadied his breathing, focused his thoughts, and stood tall.
"Everyone… Listen to me."
The crew turned toward him, their gazes desperate for stability.
"We're not dead. Not yet. The ship crashed, yes. But maybe… just maybe, we got lucky. Maybe we landed on a planet that supports life."
He gestured to the sky. "Look at how you're breathing. Feel the pull on your body. The gravity's different. That means there's a chance this world has an atmosphere—maybe even similar to Earth's."
Trembling hands reached for reassurance. His words were like anchors thrown into a stormy sea.
John was the first to speak. "I… think he's right. I can feel it now—the weight on my legs, the way my body adjusts."
A spark of hope flickered among the group. Ayan seized it.
"If this place has oxygen," he said, "then life is possible. And if life is possible, maybe there's civilization. Maybe there's a way home."
"And if there isn't?" John asked, voice low.
Ayan looked at him solemnly. "Then… we survive. We live here. It's all we can do."
A long pause. Then John chuckled faintly.
"You're still the same stubborn kid from the orphanage."
"And you're still the sarcastic vice captain who never shuts up," Ayan smiled. "Do you have someone waiting back home?"
"Nope. No lover. No girlfriend. Are you mocking me now?"
"No," Ayan replied, his voice gentler now. "Just reminding you—we're in this together. Always were."
John nodded. "But the others might have families. Kids. Spouses. We can't lose hope."
"Exactly," Ayan said. "That's why we keep moving."
They gathered their gear, slung weapons over their backs, and began their trek. Ayan and John took point, leading the group toward the red plains and away from the strange purple woods.
"Where are we heading?" Charlotte asked quietly.
"Somewhere," Ayan replied. "Anywhere that gives us answers."
After nearly half an hour, they stumbled upon a river. Its water shimmered like crystal, the bottom visible even from afar. They ran tests. The readings were stunning—cleaner than anything they'd ever seen.
They drank. And for a moment, they were human again.
After resting, they decided to follow the river's flow—knowing water often led to life. Civilization. Answers.
And as they walked, each of them carried the same thought in their hearts:
Are we the last echoes of our world—or the first voices of a new one?