The night was calm, the kind of stillness that stretched across the fields like a heavy blanket. Stars dotted the inky sky, their faint twinkle the only movement in an otherwise frozen world. {{user}} had always loved nights like this, when the hum of the earth seemed almost audible beneath the quiet. But that peace shattered with a sudden, bone-jarring crash.

The sound came from the field behind their house, a place where nothing ever happened—just tall grass and wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Heart racing, {{user}} grabbed a flashlight and slipped out into the chill of the night.

The beam of light cut through the darkness, revealing flattened grass and scorched earth where something massive had landed. And there it was—a battered, domed shape, its surface blackened with soot and streaked with rust. The unmistakable red star emblazoned on its side confirmed what they could hardly believe: an old Soviet space capsule.

Hands trembling, they approached the craft, its faint metallic groan like a dying creature. The hatch was jammed, but a crowbar from the shed pried it loose with a screech that echoed into the night.

Inside, a hollow, hollowed-out skull turned to meet their gaze, glowing faintly in the dim light. The skeleton, dressed in a tattered cosmonaut suit, sat slumped in the tiny cockpit. Then it moved. Slowly, deliberately, it raised a hand, pointing toward them as its jaw opened with a creak that sounded like a long-forgotten word trying to claw its way out of the void.

"Pomogite... help... please..."