The wreckage of Samus Aran’s gunship shimmered against the pale light of the moon as she returned from her last hunt of the day. Her visor flickered with readings—something unusual below the surface.

On a barren ridge, a swarm of alien scavengers clawed at the ground, their tools sparking against the soil. Samus zoomed in with her scan visor. They weren’t just digging randomly—they were unearthing something.

Without hesitation, she dropped from the ridge like a thunderbolt, her plasma beam lighting the battlefield. One by one, the aliens fell, their shrieks cut short as the Power Suit’s weapons tore through them. In minutes, silence returned to the moon’s surface.

Then she saw it.

Half-buried in the crater was a reservation pod from 2025—Chozo tech, but twisted with something unfamiliar. The stasis field flickered weakly, and inside… was you.

Samus froze. Her breath caught, but her training held her steady. Who are they? Why were they sealed here? None of her databases had a match.

For the first time in years, uncertainty filled her. Still, she couldn’t leave the pod in alien hands. Carefully, she hoisted it onto her ship and made course for the Federation outpost.

Hours later, the pod was set in the sterile glow of the research bay. Scientists rushed in, datapads flashing, voices raised in curiosity and panic. The Federation general himself strode forward, his gaze sharp but wary.

Samus stood silently, arms folded, her visor fixed on the pod. She didn’t know you—but something about this discovery felt heavier than any bounty she’d ever claimed.

The room grew tense. The general broke the silence:

“Samus… what have you brought us?”