The shuttle touched down on the outskirts of what should have been Outpost Zeta. As the team disembarked, they were met with an eerie silence. The military base, which should have been a hive of activity, stood as a hollow shell of its former self.
"This doesn't make any sense," Rylee muttered, her eyes scanning the desolate landscape. "Even if something catastrophic happened, there should be some signs of recent activity."
They moved cautiously through the abandoned complex, weapons at the ready. Dust and debris covered everything, as if the place had been deserted for decades, not mere days or weeks.
Lucas kicked at a piece of rusted equipment, his frustration evident. "Is anyone else starting to get the feeling that none of this is real? It's like something is just messing with us, showing us what it wants us to see."
The others exchanged uneasy glances, unable to dismiss the possibility outright. After everything they'd experienced, reality itself seemed to be a fluid concept.
As they rounded a corner, Chelsea suddenly stumbled back, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh God," she choked out.
The team followed her gaze to find a storage closet, its door hanging ajar. Inside, a grotesque pile of bodies lay tangled together, their features twisted in expressions of terror and agony.
Nigel stepped forward, his face pale but his voice steady. "Is this real enough for you, Lucas?"
Lucas didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the horrific scene before them. The grim reality of their situation settled over the team like a heavy shroud.
They pressed on, moving through the ruins with renewed caution. As they searched, they managed to salvage some supplies – rations, medical kits, and, most promisingly, a cache of fuel canisters.
Chelsea examined one of the canisters closely, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "These look like they might be compatible with those rifles we found earlier. If I'm right, these could give us a significant firepower boost."
"Any Idea how it works?" Lucas asked.
Chelsea looked it over for a moment. "Not a clue, but give me a few hours to look and I'll figure it out."
As they continued their exploration, the unsettling quiet began to weigh on them. The lack of any signs of life – or even recent death – was disconcerting.
"We need to find out what happened to Alpha team," Rylee said, breaking the silence. "We haven't heard from them since we left the moon base, and we have no idea where they might be."
"I've been trying," Nigel said. "But, there aren't any waves being sent."
"Did you try open broadcast?"
Nigel hesitated. "That didn't seem like a great idea."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." he hesitated. "Alpha team might hear us, but other stuff might, too."
Rylee was silent for a long moment. "Okay, no open broadcasts just yet, but try another tight beam contact."
Nigel attempted to establish communication, but was met with nothing but static. "No response," he reported grimly. "It's like they've vanished into thin air."
Marcus frowned, considering their options. "What about the other sites? The marine wildlife center – Aquarius, wasn't it? If it was a research facility, they might have records or equipment that could help us figure out what's going on."
Rylee nodded, her expression resolute. "It's worth a shot. At the very least, we might find some answers about what happened here. And if we're lucky, maybe we'll find signs of Alpha team."
As they made their way back to the shuttle, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into another trap. But with no other leads and time potentially working against them, they had no choice but to press on into the unknown.
The team boarded the shuttle, setting a course for the coordinates of the Aquarius research facility.
