In the dim main bridge, yellow sand seeped in along the cracked edge of the observation window, piling up into undulating dunes on the consoles. A few scarlet rays pierced the veil of sand, dyeing the drifting dust into blood mist. On the floor below, a shriveled corpse lay curled up, gray-white skin clinging to bone like air‑dried leather, one withered hand still hooked into the groove of the emergency brake lever.
The wind keened outside the hull, the fine scrape of sand on metal going on without pause. A single ghostly blue light glowed at the information hub interface, where a sharply angular drone clung to the port, the signal light in its belly blinking on and off in a steady rhythm.
Far away in the shelter room, Lin Xian removed his optical visor, his face as heavy as still water. He leaned back in a corner, fingers tapping lightly against his knees.
