Wednesday - October 24th, 2121:

With the new day present, I went to the door of the building, listening out for any sounds of danger still lurking in the area. I bided my time, patiently awaiting any sign to abandon the plan. But in the end, nothing came.

I stepped out, staring at the cloudy mess of a sky that blanketed the vast stretch above. Following the same path I took the day before, I reached the emptied ritual ground. Carefully observing it, waiting for any of those creatures to appear, but again— nothing.

You're making excuses just to slow down, coward.

Moving past the emptied ritual ground, I walked another thirty minutes west, and then I saw it, in all its glory, worn out and ransacked but still just as beautiful as the last time I saw it— the O.S.S.

The behemoth metallic construct stretched across the ruined city, laying comfortably on a bed of dozens of fallen buildings that became one with the environment. The green mossy tendrils that pervaded every stretch of the city crept up its shiny carapace. But they failed to penetrate the depths, only barely scratching the surface.

'O.S.S. Proximity Detected - Engage Docking Protocol Alpha?'

"Engage." I quickly uttered before the proximity alarm awoke any more of the deformities that may be lurking.

The system whirred momentarily before a click came from the O.S.S. as an instrument popped out from a hidden compartment and beamed a light down upon me. The brightness in my vision faded, and I touched down into the Central Deck. The whole room was in disrepair. Junk cluttered the floor and tables as if a widespread panic ensued, but there were no signs of remaining life.

I rummaged through the junk, but there was nothing of importance. Moving on, I searched the space station while heading toward the Command Deck. I passed room after room, void of any sign to fuel the hope lingering in my chest. After a while, I passed the canteen— Catherine's favorite spot to lounge in.

Temptation drew me into the canteen— the lights flickered dully, which made it a challenge to observe the limited space. I walked around futilely until I reached where Catherine would sit.

The table lay scratched with vertical gashes that ran down toward the seat, and in the seat itself, I could see the shadow of something prodding out from the side of it. Upon looking closer, there were broken nails gouged into the plastic membrane of the seat, with a fresh coat of purple nail lacquer atop the nails— something Catherine loved to use to feel as if she were back on Earth. Because of that, it was blatant who they belonged to.

I pulled them out and held them in my glove. Dried blood laced the snapped edges, speckling the purple. "Catherine..."

What had caused such panic to fester while she sat frozen in place? Catherine was always the most unbothered of us all. Most of the time, she just wanted the mission to end and return to her life.

I continued.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I had to.

Unsettling currents swam through my gut. The emptiness of the space station wasn't unexpected, but the details spread across it became a firm blow to my mind. After finishing the circuit around the space station, I reached the Command Deck. The door beeped as a sensor atop it flickered repeatedly, and then it opened.

Almost immediately, the foul stench of blood hit me, bypassing any defense my suit could offer against it. Pinned against the wall was Vlad, his limbs nailed with verdant offshoots that sprouted from the desiccated wounds on his hands and ankles. His eyes were closed, a peaceful expression plastered on his dried-out face, an impossibility considering the terrible state Vlad's body was in.

I rushed to the wall, my hands stretching to pull out the verdant spikes that sullied my friend's body. But almost immediately, they snapped at my fingers like a hungering piranha with countless razor-sharp teeth. As soon as I took a step back, they quieted down.

"..."

"Did the mutation get in when the O.S.S. dropped? Or— was it inside the station already?" I muttered the words in disbelief as I stepped forward carefully. The verdant spikes trembled as a slit ran across the surface of it, opening into an array of minuscule teeth that lined the interior.

Forfeiting my attempts at getting Vlad down, I searched the rest of the Command Center. It was disappointingly empty until I turned to the central SmartScreen used as a communication hub with Mission Command. The screen flickered with a new correspondence— but that should have been impossible. Vlad was always punctual about his tasks. And if it was after the crash— that seemed even more unlikely.

I fumbled with the screen, clattering away on the keyboard to access the Data Log.

'Denied -'

'Access Denied -'

'Unresponsive Unit - Anomaly Detected - De-De-De-Denied'

'Access Granted'

Correspondence: x12-12-21x2

'Dobryy vecher, kapitan Dostoyevskiy Vladimir...'

I pressed a few more keys to translate the relay.

'Good evening, Captain Dostoevsky Vladimir.

This correspondence code name x12-12-21x2 is confidential and for your eyes only. I repeat— DO NOT SHARE.

Captain, you and the members of the O.S.S. are humanity's last hope at spreading. Humanity has fallen, and Earth has, too.

I cannot get into details, for this message needs to reach you before they realize it.

Just know— this is serious. And this is your final mission.

Captain, by the order of the United Federation and the 12 Allied Nations. Listen to the command you must follow— word for word. Your mission is thus dubbed Project Horizon. Humanity will live on and prosper for generations as long as you survive.

Guide the O.S.S. into the stars and maintain distance from Earth. Protect the inhabitants of the O.S.S. and maintain their blissful ignorance of humanity's fate. Breed. Some might find fault with you, but humanity's seed must spread— do what you must. Finally, stay safe— stay alive.

You must survive.

May God bless you, Captain. In you, we trust. May the horizon illuminate humanity's fate.'

I stared in silence— at the contents of the correspondence and— at the fact that Vlad never read the correspondence. Was humanity truly destined to die out completely?

A sigh scraped against my helmet— gruff and hollow.

God blessed you real well, didn't he?

"Don't think this is the blessing they had in mind."