The silence in Greenhouse 1 hung like a heavy shroud. Liora stared at the panel near the ficus tree, her mind racing with questions. The distorted voice still echoed in her ears, its warning as chilling as it was cryptic.
“You’re wasting your time. The station was never meant to last.”
Ayana slammed the panel shut, her sharp gaze cutting through the haze of tension. “We’re not wasting anything,” she said firmly. “But we need to act fast. Whoever this is, they’ve already destabilized one greenhouse, and they won’t stop here.”
Kiran stepped forward, his brow furrowed. “How are they even doing this? They’ve bypassed layers of security protocols. That kind of access shouldn’t even exist.”
Ayana folded her arms, her expression grim. “It doesn’t—not for us. But if this is connected to the station’s original systems, they might have found a way in through old command protocols.”
Liora’s heart sank as she realized what Ayana was suggesting. “You think this person has access to the founders’ systems?”
“It’s the only explanation,” Ayana replied. “The founders designed Elysian Station to preserve humanity’s last ecosystems. If someone’s exploiting that infrastructure, they’re operating on a level far beyond anything we’ve dealt with before.”
“Great,” Kiran muttered, running a hand through his hair. “So not only do we have a saboteur, but they might be sitting on a system that can control the entire station.”
Ayana nodded. “Which is why we need to find them—and stop them—before the damage becomes irreversible.”
The next several hours were a blur of frantic work and growing tension. Ayana tasked Liora and Kiran with running diagnostics on the greenhouses, searching for signs of further tampering. Meanwhile, Ayana began combing through the station’s system logs, hunting for clues about the saboteur’s access point.
In Greenhouse 3, Liora knelt by the irrigation lines, her fingers trembling as she adjusted a faulty valve. The system hummed faintly as water began flowing again, its rhythm a fragile reminder of the station’s dependence on the greenhouses.
“How’s it looking?” Kiran’s voice came through the comm panel.
“Stable for now,” Liora replied. She wiped her hands on her jumpsuit, glancing around the greenhouse. The tomato plants swayed gently in the artificial breeze, their vibrant red fruit a stark contrast to the metallic walls beyond.
“I can’t believe someone would do this,” she said softly. “The greenhouses are everything. Without them, the station is...”
“Dead,” Kiran finished. “Yeah, I know. Whoever’s behind this either doesn’t care or has some twisted reason for doing it.”
Liora hesitated. “Do you think it’s connected to the seeds we found?”
There was a pause before Kiran replied. “It’s hard not to. Whoever buried those seeds didn’t want anyone to find them. And now, suddenly, someone’s tearing apart the very systems keeping us alive?”
Liora’s stomach tightened. The seeds were a mystery she couldn’t stop thinking about—a piece of Earth’s lost history hidden beneath layers of secrecy. But now, they felt like a puzzle piece in a much larger, more dangerous picture.
Later, in the control deck, Ayana’s voice cut through the comms with urgency.
“Liora, Kiran, get up here now.”
The two of them arrived moments later, stepping into the dimly lit room. Ayana stood at the central console, her expression grim as she gestured to the screen.
“What’s going on?” Liora asked.
Ayana pointed to the display, where lines of data scrolled rapidly. “I found the saboteur’s access point. They’ve been operating out of Deck 7.”
Liora’s eyes widened. “Deck 7? That’s been sealed off for years.”
Kiran frowned. “Why there? What’s on Deck 7?”
Ayana’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Deck 7 housed the original command center before it was decommissioned. The founders built it as the nerve center for the station’s core systems—greenhouse controls, life support, orbital alignment. If the saboteur has access to those systems, they could destabilize the entire station.”
“Then we need to get down there,” Kiran said, already heading for the door.
“It’s not that simple,” Ayana said sharply. “The deck’s environmental systems have been offline for years. If we go down there, we’ll need full pressure suits and oxygen reserves. And that’s assuming the structural integrity is still intact.”
Liora stepped forward, determination hardening her voice. “We don’t have a choice. If we don’t stop them, everything on this station will die.”
Ayana met her gaze, then nodded. “Suit up. We’re going to Deck 7.”
The elevator ride to Deck 7 was silent, the air heavy with tension. Liora adjusted her helmet, the faint hiss of her oxygen supply a constant reminder of the station’s fragility. Beside her, Kiran clutched a small toolkit, his jaw tight as he stared at the doors.
When the elevator came to a halt, the doors opened with a hiss, revealing a dark, narrow corridor. The air was frigid, their breath fogging the inside of their helmets as they stepped into the space.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Kiran muttered.
Ayana activated a handheld scanner, its soft glow illuminating the path ahead. “Stay close,” she said. “And keep your eyes open.”
The corridor stretched on, its walls lined with rusted panels and exposed wires. The sound of their footsteps echoed faintly, each step amplifying the oppressive silence around them.
When they reached the old command center, Ayana stopped abruptly, her scanner beeping faintly. “There’s power here,” she said. “Not much, but enough to keep something running.”
Liora’s heart raced as Ayana pushed open the doors. Inside, the room was bathed in a faint, sickly glow. A single terminal stood at the center, its screen flickering weakly.
“This is it,” Ayana said, stepping cautiously toward the console. “This is where they’ve been working.”
The terminal’s display was a chaotic mess of data—system overrides, encrypted commands, and schematics of the greenhouses. Ayana’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she accessed the logs, her eyes narrowing as the information unfolded.
“They’ve been rerouting control systems from here,” she said. “Oxygen flow, irrigation, stabilizers—they’ve been pulling the strings all along.”
Liora leaned over her shoulder, her breath catching as she recognized one of the files. “That’s the Elysian Protocol,” she said.
Ayana opened the file, the text filling the screen:
Elysian Station is humanity’s last sanctuary. Earth’s surface is no longer viable. Preservation of the station’s ecosystems is paramount. Under no circumstances are the contained species to be reintroduced to Earth. Protocol is to remain in effect indefinitely.
Kiran’s voice was quiet but filled with disbelief. “They knew. They knew Earth might recover, and they still kept us here.”
Ayana’s jaw tightened. “This wasn’t about survival. It was about control.”
Before they could process the revelation, the terminal beeped loudly. A warning flashed across the screen:
UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED. LOCKDOWN INITIATED.
The doors slammed shut, the sound echoing through the chamber. A distorted voice filled the room, low and mocking.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” it said.
Liora’s blood ran cold. “Who are you?” she demanded.
The voice chuckled. “Someone who understands the truth. The station is dying—and you’re going to die with it.”
The lights flickered violently, plunging the room into darkness.
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