The descent toward Relinom was unlike anything the crew had seen before. As the Proxima angled itself closer to the planet, the view outside their windows was breathtaking. Relinom sprawled below them in vivid hues and landscapes that could only be described as surreal, almost as if the planet itself had been painted by the cosmos’ own hand.
From the observation deck, Ryan and the rest of the crew took in the scene. Sprawling oceans gleamed under the light of three suns, casting shifting shadows and vibrant, almost luminescent colors across the waves. The water appeared to be a dark shade of teal, unlike anything they’d seen before. Thickly forested continents stretched beneath, where trees with lavender, deep green, and even red-tinted foliage created mosaics that rippled in the wind. Towering mountain ranges rose in the distance, capped with a strange, glass-like material that reflected the suns’ light in dazzling patterns. As they approached the surface, the details of the terrain sharpened, and the scale of everything became overwhelming. Despite the immense size of Proxima Galaxy, Ryan had never imagined a liveable planet quite like this.
They’d been instructed by the organization to land near its main headquarters on Relinom. The vast compound, visible even from their altitude, was a marvel of engineering—massive, interconnected structures made from what seemed to be organic metals and glass-like materials that glinted in the sunlight. It appeared to grow from the landscape rather than impose upon it, merging seamlessly with the planet’s natural features. The buildings had an iridescent sheen, constantly shifting colors as if alive, a sight that captured the crew's gaze in silent awe.
As they received clearance to descend, the crew’s excitement bubbled up in small exchanges over the intercom. After years of space stations, cramped quarters, and the endless expanse of stars, the idea of standing on solid ground filled them with great anticipation.
“Alright, team,” Ryan’s voice came through, his usual steady tone tinged with excitement, “we’re nearly there. Once we land, we’ll stay close to the ship until we get the all-clear, but it looks like we’re finally about to get some rest on a real planet.”
As the Proxima touched down on the landing pad, a hum of energy passed through the ship. The atmosphere on Relinom was stable, perfectly suited for humanoid life, though the crew had been advised to stay in their suits for now, given the planet’s unique biosphere. The landing pad was surrounded by low, vegetation-covered mounds and a border of towering trees whose foliage swayed gracefully, casting shadows over the facility’s grounds.
Once they disembarked, the crew took a collective pause, gazing at the landscape that stretched endlessly beyond the HQ. Although still in their suits, the crispness of the air, the mild warmth radiating from the ground, and the distinct, almost sweet scent of Relinom filled their senses even through the filters. Ryan took a deep breath, feeling as though he’d shed a weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying all this time. Here was a world teeming with life, beauty, and the subtle hum of an ancient presence, worlds away from the endless, sterile reaches of space.
They received a message from the HQ, indicating that while the higher-ups deliberated on their request, the crew was free to explore a bit around the complex and even use teleportation to visit other zones on the planet as it is fastest way to travel. This was an unexpected surprise, and Ryan’s eyes lit up at the idea of exploring the places he had seen from above, especially the coastal region, where the oceans met Relinom’s beaches in sweeping arcs of teal and indigo.
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The crew quickly devised a plan to split up, with each member choosing a different teleportation point on the planet to explore. After so long confined in metallic chambers and artificial atmospheres, the prospect of spreading out and feeling even a hint of natural terrain was invigorating. Ryan chose the sea area he’d glimpsed from the observation deck, eager for the chance to see it up close and feel its vastness calm his mind.
Within moments, he found himself standing on a rocky cliff that overlooked the teal ocean, stretching out to an endless horizon under the glow of the three suns. Waves crashed against the rocks below with a rhythmic, almost melodic sound, sending sprays of salty mist into the air. The colors were surreal; patches of the sea seemed to shimmer with a faint luminescence, casting an ethereal glow that danced along the shoreline.
Ryan stood still, absorbing the scene. For the first time in years, he felt a sense of peace—an odd and almost startling calm that washed over him in contrast to the constant tension and uncertainty of their journey. Here, on the shores of an alien world, surrounded by beauty and silence, the looming anxieties about the Infinitum phenomenon, the crew’s safety, and their future seemed to fade away, if only for a moment.
Back at the landing site, the rest of the crew had similarly dispersed to various parts of the planet, reveling in the freedom to explore at their leisure. They shared snippets of their experiences through their intercoms, describing vibrant valleys filled with flowers that emitted a gentle hum, crystal-clear rivers that reflected the sky in perfect clarity, and expansive fields where alien wildlife roamed in herds. Each description painted a portrait of a paradise, a stark contrast to the dangers they had faced on their journey thus far.
Despite their brief moment of respite, however, they all knew that the real reason they were here was to secure answers. They had yet to find anyone willing to openly discuss the Infinitum phenomenon with them, though they had picked up hints that the organization was aware of it and actively studying it. The lack of clear information was unsettling, and Ryan couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing pieces of a much larger puzzle. The galaxy, Lybrinote, was unimaginably vast, and the Type 4 civilization governing it wielded powers and technologies that he and his team could barely fathom. If any answers existed to their questions, they would likely be found here.
As dusk approached, casting a gentle purple hue over the landscape, the crew regrouped near the Proxima. The planet’s sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows and igniting the sky in shades of amber, violet, and gold. Despite the beauty around them, the weight of their mission settled back onto their shoulders.
There is no night on the planet because of its three suns, though only one is close enough to provide substantial light; the other two are too distant to make much difference.
Ryan leaned back against a large rock, watching as the stars began to emerge, one by one. He knew their journey was far from over; their survival, their home, and their future depended on whatever assistance this organization might provide. He couldn’t help but feel a cautious optimism, tempered by the awareness that one misstep here could entangle them in conflicts beyond their understanding. For now, all they could do was wait—and hope.
With the promise of the organization’s final response hanging over them like a thin thread, the crew turned in for the night, nestled in the serenity of an alien paradise but keenly aware of the uncertainties that awaited them.