Far away—beyond the red horizon of Mars, past the stretch of cosmic dark—the Earth turned quietly beneath its clouds, unaware of the storm about to reach it.
At first, it began with lights.
Strange, flickering auroras shimmered across the night skies—crimson, violet, and gold. People gathered outside their homes, recording the display with wide eyes and excited laughter.
No one knew it wasn't just light. It was a signal.
---
Onboard the Artemis IV, the crew floated in silence. Mars hung below them, no longer still and cold, but glowing faintly from within, its core bleeding energy like a living thing. The once-dead planet now pulsed like a heart reborn.
Liora leaned on the observation glass, watching the crimson waves ripple across the surface. "It's… beautiful."
Eris stood behind her, quiet. The blue glow in his chest flickered weakly, fading and reigniting like a heartbeat. "Beauty doesn't mean safe," he said.
Nova turned from the console, worry carved deep in her face. "The pulse is spreading. The scanners show waves of radiation moving across the solar system—but not just radiation. There's data in it. Patterns."
Kai frowned. "Patterns? Like what?"
She pointed at the holo-screen. A projection appeared: flowing streams of light, each pulse matching a sound wave, each sound forming a rhythm.
> Thump… thump… thump…
It was the same as the pulse they'd felt beneath the Martian soil.
Liora's eyes widened. "It's a frequency."
Eris said, "A message."
He reached toward the console, linking his crystal to the ship's core interface. The system flickered, reacting to the resonance instantly. The data scrambled, then aligned.
And then—they heard it.
A voice, soft yet vast, speaking through the static of the cosmos:
> "Children of dust… you opened the heart before the time. The link awakens, and all worlds shall remember."
Liora took a step back, her throat dry. "That's… not the Herald."
"No," Eris said slowly. "That's something older."
The voice continued:
> "The seed planted in red soil shall bloom. The fire that was lost shall rise again. And from your home shall come the one who chooses."
The transmission ended. The ship's power flickered, the lights dimming to a faint red hue.
Nova turned to Eris. "What does it mean? The one who chooses?"
He looked out the viewport toward the faint blue glow of Earth.
> "It means we're not done yet."
---
Earth — Two Days Later
Reports flooded every network:
Strange energy surges, power grids flickering, magnetic storms disrupting satellites.
And above the Atlantic, an enormous crimson ring appeared—visible from orbit, rotating slowly like an eye.
At its center, a beam of red light descended toward the ocean, humming with the same pulse that came from Mars.
The world watched in silence as the seas began to churn.
> "The bloom has begun," whispered the unseen voice again—only this time, it wasn't through the ship's speakers. It echoed across every broadcast, every frequency, every human device.
And beneath the Atlantic depths, something ancient stirred in reply.