The voice came from the crater ahead. A massive one. Deep and dark and ancient. The bottom was lost in shadow where sunlight had never reached. Something moved down there. Something that should not exist. Something that knew his name.
His heart slammed against his ribs like a prisoner trying to escape. "Who's there? Who said that?"
"You know."
"I don't know anything! I'm just a pilot! I fly things! That's my whole personality!"
"You know more than you admit."
He tried to turn away. To run. To do literally anything except stand there. His legs wouldn't move. He looked down and felt ice water replace the blood in his veins. The grey dust was climbing up his boots. Slowly. Patiently. It wasn't dust anymore. It was fingers. Grey fingers made of ash and silence and ancient hunger, wrapping around his ankles, pulling him down into the surface.
"Let me go!" he shouted.
"You brought them here."
"I didn't bring anyone! We're just explorers! Scientists! We came to collect rocks and take pictures and make history! That's all!"
"You brought them to me."
The crater was growing wider. Spreading like a wound that refused to heal. A mouth opening in the surface of the moon. And inside that mouth he saw—
Red.
Wet.
Moving.
Things he couldn't name. Things that shouldn't be alive. Things that had been waiting in the dark below the surface for a very, very long time. Waiting for someone to arrive. Waiting for him.
"Wake up."
"I can't move!"
"WAKE UP."
---
Evans gasped.
His eyes flew open so fast it hurt. The sleeping bag was soaked with sweat. His heart was a war drum in his throat, pounding so hard he thought it might crack his ribs open from the inside. The hum of the ship was still there. Soft. Constant. Safe.
Wasn't it?
Chen floated nearby, frowning deeply. He had been reading a technical manual, but now the manual was drifting forgotten somewhere near the ceiling. "Commander? Hey. Hey. You good? You were making sounds. Bad sounds. Like someone was stepping on your chest while you tried to scream."
Thorne was awake too. He must have heard Evans thrashing in his sleep. His notebook was gone. Concern was written all over his face in capital letters. "Nightmare?"
Evans unzipped the sleeping bag with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. He looked at his palms like they belonged to someone else. Like they were foreign objects someone had attached to his wrists while he was unconscious.
"Yeah," he said. His voice came out rough and scraped raw, like he'd been screaming for hours. "A dream. A really bad one."
"What kind of dream?" Thorne asked. He floated closer, his scientist brain already analyzing, categorizing, trying to make sense of things. "What did you see?"
Evans didn't answer right away. He stared at his trembling hands. Then at the window. The moon was out there. Waiting. Grey and silent and full of craters.
Full of mouths.
"Something bad," he finally said. "Something is going to happen. On the moon. I don't know what exactly. But I felt it. Deep in my bones. Deep in my soul. I saw something down there. In a crater. Something alive. Something that knew my name."
Chen and Thorne exchanged a long, meaningful glance. The kind of glance that said should we be genuinely worried about our Commander's mental state or is this just normal space stress that everyone experiences.
"It was just a dream," Chen said gently. His voice was softer than usual. No jokes. No sarcasm. "Stress. First mission jitters. We all feel it. Hell, I literally peed my suit yesterday. My body betrayed me in front of the entire crew. Your brain makes up weird stuff when you're scared and tired and floating in a metal tube a hundred thousand miles from home."
"No." Evans' voice was flat. Certain. Like a stone dropped into still water. "It wasn't just a dream. It was a warning. I don't know from who. Or what. But something is waiting for us down there. Something old. Something hungry. And we're flying straight toward it."
Silence filled the cabin. The hum of the ship felt louder now. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing in Evans' ears like a waterfall.
From the cockpit above, Petrova's voice crackled through the speaker. She had been listening the whole time. Of course she had. "Everything okay down there? Your vitals spiked hard, Commander. Heart rate went through the roof. I almost woke you up myself."
Evans took a long breath. Then another. Then a third. He looked at his crew. His family, up here in the endless void. Chen with his stupid jokes and his tapping fingers and his loyal heart. Thorne with his endless notebooks and his rock obsession and his quiet strength. Petrova up in the cockpit, watching over all of them like a guardian angel with a pilot's license and a dry sense of humor.
"We proceed with the mission," he said finally. "But when we land on the moon, we stay together. No one goes off alone. No one wanders. No one takes unnecessary risks. We move as a unit. We watch each other's backs. Understand?"
Thorne nodded slowly. "Understood, Commander. Together."
Chen followed. "Yeah. Okay. Together. Got it. No solo adventures. No heroic wandering. I'll hold your hand if you want."
"That won't be necessary, Mark."
"I'm offering emotional support."
"Your emotional support is weird."
"Thank you."
"Copy that," Petrova said from above. There was a pause. Then, softer, more serious: "I'll keep an extra eye on the surface from orbit. If anything looks wrong down there, anything at all, you'll be the first to know. I promise. I've got your backs from up here."
Evans nodded to himself. He floated back to the window and pressed his palm against the cold glass.
The moon stared back at him. Grey. Silent. Full of craters.
Full of mouths.
Full of secrets that had been waiting for billions of years.
He didn't sleep again that night. He just floated there, watching, waiting for the moon to blink.
Chen floated up beside him after a while, holding two coffee pouches. "Here. It tastes like warm garbage, but it'll keep you awake."
Evans took the pouch. "Thanks, Mark."
"No problem." Chen floated in silence for a moment. Then, quietly: "Whatever's down there, Commander... we'll face it together. That's what crews do."
Evans looked at him. "Even if it's something terrible?"
Chen shrugged and sipped his terrible coffee. "Especially if it's something terrible. That's when crews matter most."
From across the cabin, Thorne's voice drifted over. "Are you two having a moment? Because if you're having a moment, I want to be included."
"Get over here, Aris," Evans said.
Thorne floated over with his own coffee pouch. The three men hung there together, watching the moon grow larger in the window, drinking terrible coffee, waiting for whatever came next.
"Hey," Chen said after a while. "If something eats us on the moon, who tells my mom?"
"Lena will," Thorne said.
"I absolutely will not," Petrova's voice came through. "I'll tell her you died heroically saving a moon rock."
"That's... actually not bad."
"I know. I'm good at my job."
---
End of Day 2
-The end , just a joke and will be continued tomorrow😎
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