The storm came without warning.
Above the desert plains of Zephar III, black clouds rolled in like a bruised tide, blotting out the pale orange sky. Static lightning flickered across the dome-shaped research outpost, casting jagged shadows on the sand. Inside, alarms shrieked.
Captain Elara Myles stood at the observation deck, her hands clenched behind her back. She'd seen strange weather in her time—asteroid hail, plasma storms, even a solar blizzard—but this? This felt different.
"Captain," said Lieutenant Rho, his synthetic voice calm even as red lights pulsed across the control room. "Unidentified anomaly detected. Coordinates: 19.4 by 33.2. Atmospheric disturbance—growing."
Elara turned to him. His humanoid frame gleamed with dust from the last field mission. "Show me."
The display shimmered to life. On it, a rift—thin and luminous—had opened in the sky, a jagged gash leaking violet light. It wasn't just a visual glitch. The sensors registered gravitational fluctuations, radiation spikes, and something even stranger: sound. A low-frequency hum, like a voice too old to understand.
"Patch in to central command," Elara said. "Get me Dr. Kade."
Rho paused. "No response. All communication relays are down."
That stopped her cold. Zephar III was a communications hub for five systems. Going dark wasn't just improbable—it was nearly impossible.
She stared at the rift, watching it twist and shimmer like a wound in reality.
And then it happened.
From the light emerged something fast. Something alive.
It moved too quickly for a proper scan, but Elara caught a glimpse—metallic limbs, iridescent wings, and a scream that seemed to pierce straight through thought. It slammed into the dunes near the outpost, throwing up a cloud of sand and flame.
"Suit up," she ordered. "I want a team on that crash site in five."
As Rho moved to obey, Elara allowed herself one last look at the crack in the sky.
Something had come through.
And she had the sinking feeling it wasn't the only one.