With a blinding flash of teleportation, the suddenly expanded air shrieked as it carved out a massive hemispherical void amid the sky-blotted dust storm. But the storm surged back with even greater ferocity, swallowing them whole once again.
To an unprotected person, the sandstorm's abrasive grit was like a flurry of needles at high speed, shredding flesh down to bone. But for the fully armored Sisterhood, it was little more than a faint rasping on their plating, insufficient to halt their advance.
The assault and heavy weapons squads had already formed a defensive perimeter the instant they landed. Catherine revved up her beloved chainsword, eyeing the surroundings with sharp vigilance. Their helmets' integrated detection systems highlighted teammates with crisp outlines, enabling them to maintain formation even amid the choking sandstorm.
This planet's average temperature was slightly lower than Earth's. According to the armor's sensors, it barely met the minimum threshold for human survivability. Due to its rotation cycle, nights here were exceptionally long. A massive moon reflected the light of its star, casting the surface in an eerie shade of blue. Vast, planet-wide sandstorms wandered aimlessly across the terrain like staggering giants. If the Eternal City had satellite capabilities, they would've seen a world of dark blue deserts, with only sparse patches receiving sunlight and retaining warmth.
But no one was interested in conducting geological surveys right now.
The sandstorm not only affected their weapons and equipment but also interfered with radio communications and the power armor's air filtration systems. After managing to exchange positions and intel through their comms officers, the squads began escorting Solomon toward the designated objective.
The only anchoring material used in the spell had been sand from this planet, so Solomon could only guarantee that his forces landed on the same world, not in the same precise location. He did his best to minimize spatial error and ensure safety. Thus, the first priority upon arrival wasn't searching for Leopold Fitz or Jemma Simmons—it was regrouping and forming a cohesive fighting force.
Meanwhile, Solomon was attuning himself to the planet's voice—something that came easily to him. He quickly filtered out lifeforms that didn't belong to the Eternal City strike teams.
He heard faint malevolent whispers hidden within the sandstorm—malice drifting atop the dust like algae on water, carried by grit and wind. It was a consciousness, a fragmented soul, a collective will made up of countless microscopic minds. Upon contact, the archmage unearthed its memories—its pain. For millennia, the creature's howls had replaced the winds, embedding themselves into the genetic code of both the planet and its once-intelligent inhabitants. Solomon discarded irrelevant data and relayed the malevolent entity's location to every squad leader's mind, effectively tracking it and keeping the teams from wandering directly into its path.
He was certain that this twisted consciousness was the very entity the Malick family had worshipped as a god for centuries—and his mission's true target. Still, bound by honor and promise, he had to first gather his forces and rescue the two helpless S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists before neutralizing the threat.
"I don't… feel right," muttered the scruffy-faced man, chewing over the creeping sensation that had just overtaken him—like something brushing against his soul. Ever since he'd found that woman outside his shelter, strange things had been happening. First, he realized that many years had passed on Earth. Then came the increasingly frequent sandstorms… and the voices.
Someone was calling the woman's name.
"Maybe there's someone out there!" Jemma Simmons sniffled.
Every drop of water on this planet was precious. She hadn't bathed in ages. NASA astronaut Will Daniels even more so—the only way to clean himself was to mimic birds and take sand baths, rubbing dirt off to remove bodily grime. Simmons refused that painful-sounding method, choosing instead to conserve her water ration just to wipe her face each day.
"Impossible!"
"I'm right here, Will," Simmons pointed at herself. "Aren't I a person?"
Will chuckled wryly. "You mean there's another poor soul out there who stumbled through the Monolith too?"
"Um… I might've forgotten to lock the door," Simmons tilted her head playfully. She was thinking of Fitz.
Since arriving on this planet, Fitz had frequently occupied her thoughts. She knew he would do anything to find her. That belief was a warm little fire in her desperate heart, fueling her will to survive and find a way home.
Will poured her a cup of hot tea. The sealed tin of tea leaves he'd brought had finally found use after Simmons arrived. With another pair of hands, their water-gathering efficiency had doubled. Will didn't mind using today's share to brew tea.
"Sometimes, when the sandstorms hit, I hear the howls of demons," he said softly, holding the cup. "I know it sounds superstitious, but… do you think anything else lives on this planet?"
"I doubt anyone else would've come here."
"But I've heard the movement of something massive. On countless sleepless nights, I heard it pacing outside my door. I lay awake, clutching my handmade spear, soaked in cold sweat. After the storm passed, I went out and found traces in the sand—serpentine drag marks bound with mucus. Even the wind couldn't blow them away. They formed mesmerizing circles around the skylight… That thing wants to eat me, Simmons. It's waiting."
"That's a good story, Will. Once we get back to Earth, you'll have quite the tale to tell," Simmons laughed, tapping the table. NASA—or more accurately, the Malick family—had sent Will here with ample supplies. Those resources kept him alive—and powered Simmons' calculations. The hand-crank generator, in particular, had proved invaluable.
"I wasn't the first astronaut to come here," he said. He didn't expect Simmons to believe him right away. Maybe he'd once been a hotheaded young man, but years of alien survival had forged him into someone with patience.
"I know."
"And I won't be the last," Will said calmly. "They all died. I was the only one who made it. You're a scientist—you should understand how hard it is for bodies to decompose in a desert. But the astronaut corpses you saw were already down to bare bone. Doesn't that tell you something?"
"Beasts?" Simmons shook her head, rejecting her own theory.
If those astronauts had been killed by beasts, there'd be no complete skeletons left behind, and someone living here as long as Will would've encountered such creatures. Suddenly, she realized that Will's strange story might actually point to a possibility—a mysterious lifeform that left serpentine trails and devoured humans.
The sandstorm roared harder, pounding on the roof with rhythmic thuds.
Simmons shivered.
(End of Chapter)
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