Ghost Signals

The static crackled through Cain's helmet, a whispering hiss that rose and fell like distant breathing. He froze mid-step, hand tightening around his rifle as the sound slithered into his ears. It was subtle at first, a faint pulse beneath the usual ambient comms chatter, but now it was growing louder. More insistent.

"...Cain..."

His heart skipped a beat.

"Did anyone else hear that?" Cain's voice was low, tense. He glanced at the others, scanning their visors for any signs of reaction.

Sasha's head snapped toward him. "Hear what?"

Before he could respond, the transmission surged again, louder—fragmented whispers laced with static, like voices trapped in a storm.

"...not alone... beneath... they see you..."

Cain swallowed hard, feeling the familiar weight of unease pressing against his ribs. "The comms... there's something on the channel."

Reyes, lagging slightly behind with a portable signal scanner strapped to his chest, frowned and tapped at the device. "I'm getting interference... but it's not local. This isn't from our comm system." He adjusted the dials with a sharp click. "Wait... I think it's coming from the planet."

Ryker's voice cut through their private link. "Clarify that, Reyes."

Reyes exhaled sharply. "I mean it, boss. This signal isn't coming from us or the ship—it's external." His fingers flew over the controls, adjusting frequencies. "It's faint, but... it's old. Like decades, maybe more."

Cain felt a chill creep down his spine. "Could it be a distress signal?"

Elara's voice crackled over the comms, calm but clipped. "Impossible. No official expeditions have ever reached Exo-9. We're the first boots on the ground."

Cain exchanged a glance with Sasha, who didn't look convinced.

"Yeah?" Cain muttered. "Then who's whispering my name?"

No one had an answer.

Ryker motioned for the team to keep moving, his face hard behind his visor. "We don't have time for ghost stories. Reyes, log the signal for review and stay on mission."

Reyes scowled but nodded, tapping his console. "Copy that, Commander. But I gotta tell you... this isn't just random noise. There's a pattern. A repeating sequence buried in the signal. Almost like..." He hesitated, eyes narrowing at the screen. "...a warning."

"Warning for what?" Cain asked, stepping closer.

Reyes didn't look up. "I don't know yet. But someone—or something—wants us to hear it."

Cain's jaw clenched. "Yeah. That's what worries me."

Sasha's voice came through, tight with unease. "Let's just move. The longer we stand here, the worse this place feels."

Ryker didn't argue. "We're burning daylight. Double time."

The team pressed forward, navigating the jagged terrain under the eerie violet sky. Lightning flickered overhead in brief bursts, illuminating the endless rocky wasteland stretching beyond the horizon.

But Cain couldn't shake it—those whispers still echoed faintly in his ears, a gnawing presence that felt personal. The way it had said his name...

He tried to focus on the mission, tried to tell himself it was just static, a trick of the failing comm systems. But deep down, he knew better. Something was here. Watching.

And it knew who he was.

Thirty minutes later, the wind had picked up, thickening with swirling gray dust that made visibility even worse. Cain pulled his scarf higher beneath his helmet, shielding his visor from the worst of it.

"We need to find cover," Sasha called over the comms, her voice distorted by interference. "Storm's getting worse."

Ryker motioned toward a cluster of towering rock formations ahead. "We'll set up a temporary station there. Move!"

The crew picked up the pace, trudging through the alien landscape, boots sinking into the loose soil. The wind howled louder, and that uneasy whisper of static returned, punctuated by broken fragments of voices—guttural, distant, distorted.

Cain glanced at Reyes, who was still monitoring the signal on his wrist display. The tech specialist's usual cocky grin was long gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and nervous glances toward the sky.

"You're hearing it now, aren't you?" Cain asked.

Reyes nodded slowly, eyes darting around. "Yeah. And it's getting stronger the deeper we go."

They reached the base of the rock formation and huddled together as the wind screamed around them, forming a temporary break from the relentless dust storm.

Cain crouched behind a boulder, breathing hard. "What do you think, Reyes? Natural phenomenon, or...?"

Reyes looked at him, his eyes serious. "I don't think this planet is as empty as they told us, man."

Cain didn't respond, because he already knew.

Elara knelt beside them, her handheld device beeping furiously. She glanced at the readings, a flicker of something—fear?—crossing her features. "The signal isn't random," she whispered. "It's intelligent. It's repeating in precise, calculated intervals."

Ryker heard her and frowned. "You saying someone—something—is trying to communicate?"

She hesitated. "I... I don't know."

Cain clenched his fists. "Then let's find out."

Ryker shook his head. "Negative. We stay on mission. We log the data, we analyze it later—"

Before he could finish, a loud, sharp ping echoed through their comms, followed by a new voice—one that didn't belong to any of them.

"...they are watching... you must leave..."

Everyone froze.

Cain's pulse spiked, his instincts screaming at him to move.

Sasha scanned the perimeter, her rifle up. "Who the hell said that?"

Reyes stared at his monitor, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "It's coming from... inside the rocks. Direct source, fifty meters away."

Ryker's eyes darkened. "We check it out. Voss, Rourke, on me."

Cain didn't like it, but he moved, rifle at the ready. They crept forward through the towering rock spires, every footstep kicking up fine dust. The air felt heavier now, thick and charged with static electricity.

As they rounded a corner, Cain saw it.

Embedded deep within the rock wall was something unnatural—dark, metallic, and pulsing with a faint, sickly green glow. It looked like technology, but... not human.

"Jesus," Reyes whispered over comms. "That ain't ours."

Cain stepped closer, the hum of the object vibrating through his chest. "Then whose is it?"

Ryker gestured for Elara to examine it. She stepped forward cautiously, scanning the strange device with trembling hands. Her eyes widened as she read the data.

"This... this is ancient," she whispered. "It's been here for centuries... maybe longer."

Cain swallowed hard, eyes darting around the canyon. "Then what turned it on?"

A deep, guttural noise reverberated through the canyon.

Cain's blood ran cold.

"We need to move," he said, his voice firm. "Now."

The whispers in the wind grew louder.

Something was waking up.