Red had been walking along the snowy crust of Polus, pretending to do tasks like always. The cold wind nipped at his suit, but he barely noticed. Sleep has become rare lately. Every night, whispers clawed at his mind — ghostly voices of impostors long gone, tormenting him in dreams that bled into waking.
He tried to focus. Fix wires. Calibrate distributor. Breathe. Again. Again....
His hand trembled as he reached for the next panel, until—
Clnk.
The sound came from the vent nearby. Not the usual metallic creak. This was wet. Organic....
Red turned sharply. “What the hell...?”
From the vent, something emerged — fast, crawling with uncanny speed. It was humanoid… almost. But vines, black and twisted like plant matter, clung to its limbs. Glowing red eyes. Jagged teeth. It looked like an impostor — felt like one — but there was something... wrong.
Too wrong.
Before Red could react, the thing lunged.
“Wait—!”
He hit the ground hard, his visor cracking slightly on the frozen rock.
The creature snarled low in its throat, inches from his face. Its breath was cold and bitter. Red stared up at it, mind racing.
“Who... what are you?” he breathed.
The creature tilted its head. Then, for just a second… it hesitated.
Red’s back hit the icy ground of Polus with a muted thud, air knocked from his lungs—not from pain, but from sheer shock. The creature loomed over him, its breath puffing faintly in the cold air, visible like smoke. Tentacles hovered like ribbons caught in zero gravity, its eyes glowing crimson and unblinking. Yet, despite its appearance, its weight wasn’t crushing. Its claws weren’t digging in. It was just… watching.
“You’re… warm,” it said at last, voice layered and echoing, like wind passing through glass. “Do all of you feel this warm?”
Red blinked. “W-What?”
The creature tilted its head, mimicking the blink with a slow shutter of its eyes. “That blink again. Is that... a yes?”
Its claws retracted slightly, more out of politeness than caution. It sniffed the air with something between a twitch and a shiver.
“You smell like... copper and snow. Are you alive or pretending? I don’t know yet.”
Red stared, still frozen—not by fear anymore, but confusion. “I’m… alive. And confused.”
“Good,” it said simply. “Confused things speak. Dead things don’t.”
It sat back, crouched like a thinking animal, still facing him. Not moving to run. Not attacking. Just… observing.
“You didn’t scream. The others always scream.”
Red finally managed to sit up slowly. “Maybe because I don’t think you’re here to hurt me?”