The Heart of Ice

Elara's first breath was a whisper in the frozen night of Velka, a land where winter reigned supreme and the winds howled like starving wolves. She was born into House Voss, a family of renown, known not only for its political power but for its lineage of scholars and visionaries. From the moment she opened her piercing honey-yellow eyes—eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of the ancient glaciers of her homeland—it was clear she was no ordinary child.

Her beauty was undeniable, a delicate perfection in her features that drew admiring gazes wherever she went. But it was her mind that truly captivated. At an age when other children still babbled, Elara was already displaying an insatiable curiosity, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. Books became her constant companions, and Velka's most prestigious tutors marveled at her ability to grasp complex concepts and solve intricate problems.

As she grew, her intellect became even more dazzling. She mastered the sciences, mathematics, philosophy, and the arts with astounding ease. Her memory was prodigious, her analytical thinking far surpassed her peers, and her thirst for knowledge seemed boundless. She excelled at everything she set out to do, leaving behind a trail of achievements and accolades.

But such brilliance came at a price. Elara was raised in an environment of relentless expectations. Her parents—powerful and respected figures—accepted nothing less than perfection. Excellence wasn't a choice; it was a mandate. Every accomplishment was celebrated, yes, but it also became the new standard she was expected to surpass. Failure, no matter how small, was unacceptable.

This constant pressure shaped Elara's personality. She learned to suppress her emotions, to hide any sign of vulnerability behind a façade of coldness and indifference. Sentimentality was weakness—a needless distraction on the path to greatness. Logic and reason were her only guides, and knowledge became her most powerful weapon.

Her intelligence made her feel superior to others, though she rarely voiced it. Instead, she feigned humility, quietly scorning mediocrity. Yet deep inside, she wrestled with doubts and insecurities. The fear of failure haunted her; the possibility of not living up to expectations consumed her.

This fear drove her to work even harder, to seek external validation in the form of accomplishments and recognition. She couldn't stand being contradicted, for any challenge to her intellect felt like a threat to her very identity. At times, she would experience bursts of intellectual euphoria—feeling unstoppable, brilliant. But those moments were fleeting, inevitably followed by the creeping shadow of doubt.

Elara's adult life continued along the same unrelenting path of excellence. Her academic career was meteoric—she earned doctorates in multiple scientific disciplines at an age when most of her peers were just beginning their university studies. Her research in the fields of exobiology and biotechnology led her to groundbreaking discoveries, earning the recognition and admiration of the international scientific community.

Yet, despite her accomplishments, Elara continued to feel a deep void within. External validation never seemed enough to fill the abyss of insecurity that haunted her. She became obsessed with knowledge, viewing it as a means of control over the world around her. To her, ignorance was an unforgivable sin—a sign of weakness that had to be eradicated at all costs.

In her personal relationships, Elara maintained a calculated emotional distance. She despised excessive sentimentality, seeing it as an irrational distraction that clouded reason. Her interactions were cold and methodical, always seeking intellectual or professional advantage. She found it difficult to connect with others on an emotional level, fearing that any show of vulnerability would be a crack in her carefully constructed armor.

It was during a symposium on exobiology that Elara first heard of the Astraea-7 project. The mission to a mysterious and unknown planet immediately ignited her curiosity. The opportunity to explore a new world, to confront the unknown, to push the boundaries of human understanding—drew her like a magnet.

The selection process for the mission was rigorous and demanding. Candidates underwent exhaustive physical, mental, and emotional testing. Elara surpassed every challenge with astonishing ease, proving her intellectual superiority and her ability to remain composed under pressure.

Still, one question echoed in the minds of many: Why Elara Voss? What made her so uniquely suited to be chosen for a mission of such magnitude—an expedition into the jaws of the unknown? It wasn't a mere list of achievements that defined her, but rather an intricate tapestry of experiences and motivations woven across a lifetime.

Picture Elara not only as a brilliant scientist, but as the living result of a tireless search to understand the universe and her place within it. From her earliest years, when her small fingers clung to books with the same tenacity she used to scale Velka's frozen peaks, she forged a deep connection to knowledge. She did not merely seek information—she sought the key to unravel the mysteries of existence. And on the planet that defied all known logic, the greatest enigma of all awaited her.

Her experience in exobiology and biotechnology was not a mere résumé—it was the testimony of a restless mind refusing to accept the limits of the established order. Elara was never content with studying life on Earth; her ambition drove her to seek it in other worlds, to unravel the very secrets of creation itself. The mysterious planet, with its strange life forms and enigmatic atmosphere, stood as the pinnacle of her search.

But it wasn't just her thirst for knowledge that drove her. Deep down, Elara longed for something more profound: the validation that had always seemed to escape her. Despite her achievements, a small voice within her whispered doubts and insecurities. This new planet—with its dangers and unknowns—presented itself as the ultimate trial, the chance to prove herself, to silence those voices once and for all.

And perhaps, deeper still, there was something else. Something Elara herself had never fully acknowledged. A loneliness disguised as self-sufficiency, a yearning for connection hidden behind a facade of coldness. The planet that had emerged from nowhere, with its eerie pull, could be the mirror that reflected her true self—forcing her to confront her fears and uncover the humanity buried beneath her intellect.

Thus, Elara was chosen. Not merely for what she knew, but for what she yearned for. Not just for her mind, but for her heart—a heart of ice that, perhaps, just perhaps, could melt in the warmth of truth.

Yet, as Astraea-7 drew closer to the black planet, Elara began to feel that the mission was far more than a scientific expedition. From the very start, there had been something unusual about the crew selection—a subtle sense that they hadn't been told the full truth. And Haruto… Haruto was at the center of that unease.

She remembered his arrival at the base—his soft, almost fearful voice, his distant gaze, as if trapped in a world of his own. The whispered comments from other staff members, the furtive glances, the sense that he was "special," though not in any ordinary way.

Then came the tests. His inhuman endurance, his ability to overcome challenges that would break any other person. Elara, ever the scientist, struggled to find a logical explanation. There were no medical records, no training files—just a mysterious void surrounding his origin.

Her conversation with Captain Tobias only deepened her suspicions. "Adopted... unclear circumstances... sealed documents... high-level authorizations." The words echoed in her mind, forming a puzzle she felt compelled to solve.

Deep down, Elara knew that understanding Haruto might be the key to understanding the true nature of the mission itself. And on that planet, with its oppressive atmosphere and veiled secrets, the truth might be lurking in every shadow—waiting to be revealed.

Onboard the Astraea-7, days before arriving at the mysterious planet. Haruto is in the common room, trying to read a book about exoplanets. Elara enters with a tablet, approaching him with an intense gaze.

Elara — Haruto, I need your saliva.

Haruto — (Blinks, without looking up from the book) — Excuse me?

Elara — (Approaching with a swab) — It's for a test.

Haruto — (Leaning back slightly) — A test for what? Don't we already have that data?

Elara — (Ignoring his question) — Open your mouth.

(Haruto slowly closes the book, looking at her with a mix of confusion and caution.)

Haruto — No.

Elara — (Sighs) — Haruto, please. It's important.

Haruto — (Standing up) — I don't see why it's important.

Elara — (Frustrated) — Can you stop questioning everything and just give me the saliva?

Haruto — (Crossing his arms) — No.

(Elara stares at him for a few seconds, then tries a different approach.)

Elara — Fine. Forget the saliva. Answer this: Do you remember anything from your childhood?

Haruto — (Tenses up) — I don't want to talk about that.

Elara — (Taking a step forward) — Why not? What are you hiding?

(Haruto looks at her with an unreadable expression.)

Haruto — I'm not hiding anything. I just don't see how it's relevant.

Elara — (Stepping even closer) — Everything is relevant, Haruto. Anything could be the key to—

(Kael enters the room, cutting through the tense silence.)

Kael — Am I interrupting something?

Elara — (With a forced smile) — Just trying to be friendly, Kael.

Kael — (Walking over and slinging an arm around Haruto) — Leave my little brother alone, Elara. You'll have plenty of time to dissect him once we land on the planet.

Kael led Haruto away, leaving Elara with a mix of frustration and curiosity. Haruto glanced back, his expression uneasy.

The memory of the tense exchange with Haruto slowly faded from Elara's mind, replaced by a growing sense of unease. The ship shuddered. The lights flickered. A metallic hum filled the air. Elara tried to grab hold of something, but the gravity fluctuated wildly, hurling her against the wall.

Her last conscious thought was a deafening explosion, followed by a sepulchral silence.

Elara awoke with a jolt, her head throbbing with a dull ache. The inside of the escape pod was gently vibrating, emergency lights blinking on the control panel. Disoriented, she tried to rise, but a sharp crack stopped her.

"Damn it," she hissed, clutching her head.

Her visor was cracked, a fine web of fractures distorting her vision. She tried to focus, feeling a viscous liquid slide down her forehead. She touched the wound and saw her fingers smeared with a thick, glimmering fluid.

"What the hell…?"

The ship had crashed. The impact had been violent, and for a moment, Elara feared the worst. But then, a steady beeping filled her ears, followed by a mechanical voice announcing:

"Vital systems... functional."

Elara took a deep breath, trying to quiet the panic clawing at her chest. Her heart pounded, but her scientific mind began to assert itself. First step: assess the situation.

With slow, cautious movements, she unbuckled herself and stood up. The pain in her head persisted, but she pushed it aside. She studied the control panel, trying to make sense of the readouts.

"Communications systems... offline. GPS... inoperable. Atmospheric analysis... successful."

Elara frowned. At least the air was breathable. A crucial detail—but she still didn't know where the others were.

She looked around, trying to get her bearings. The pod had landed in a clearing surrounded by strange vegetation—a mixture of organic and metallic forms. The landscape was dark, lit only by the faint glow of artificial lights in the sky.

"This looks like nothing I've ever seen before."

She tried activating her communicator, but only static replied. The interference was intense, jamming all signals. She felt isolated, but not defeated.

Then, something caught her attention. In the distance, through the shadows, she glimpsed an imposing structure—a silhouette rising into the sky.

"What is that...?" she murmured.

The structure was unlike anything she had imagined. It bore a complex geometric form, with lines and angles that defied logic. It emitted a faint, pulsating glow—almost as if it were alive.

A shiver ran down her spine, but curiosity outweighed fear. That structure might hold answers—crucial information about the planet and their fate.

"There has to be something there."

Without hesitation, Elara moved toward the structure, stepping into the darkness.