The image of the black moon hung ominously in the center of the bridge, casting long, dark shadows across the room. Ethan and his crew stood in silence as the transmission played on, the strange, distorted voice repeating its cryptic message. The language was unfamiliar, its meaning indecipherable, but there was no mistaking the sense of foreboding that accompanied it.
Tazra broke the silence first. "I don't like this. That thing doesn't look natural, and I sure as hell don't want to find out what's hiding inside it."
Ethan stared at the projection, his mind racing. Something about the black moon sent a chill down his spine, a primal warning that screamed danger. He glanced at Prella, whose eyes were locked on the swirling dark mass in front of them.
"It's unnatural," Prella said softly, her voice laced with concern. "There's something deeply wrong about that moon. I can feel it."
