The golden light spilled across the vast expanse of the metallic chamber, casting strange shadows that danced upon its curved walls. The air felt warm here, tinged with the faint hum of electricity, a low sound that vibrated through Ethan's bones. Symbols etched into the ground glowed softly, their patterns intricate pulsing as though alive, and responding to his presence.
Ethan was motionless, gasps stuttered through his breath, mind racing with fears and worries. His gaze stayed upon Amara as she moved naturally toward the chamber's very core. The bright gold washed down upon sharp features as that dark hair flowed down and around her body like something made from a thousand gods of the deep. A spasm in his chest—part fear, all fascination—and Ethan couldn't bring himself to drop the feeling.
"This place is huge," Ethan whispered to himself, attempting to sound braver than he actually was. His voice broke the silence into the eerie stillness; the golden light danced a little brighter, as if in mocking of his unease. "How far does this thing extend?"
Amara's voice came from beside him, low and firm. "Far enough to make us question whether we should keep exploring."
He tried to speak, words not coming as his throat was parched, his palms damp. His body knew all of her power, the commanding way she walked into danger without flinching and the confidence of every movement. How much he hated how that confidence tugged at him, forcing him to turn inside out in his own helplessness.
Before he could even process it, a sound emerged out of the far end of the golden-lit expanse. First faint; a metallic groan, a low vibration which intensified with each passing second. His body tensed; his muscles coiled as he reached instinctively for his weapon.
"Stay calm," Amara whispered, her voice like stone. Her movements were stiff and precise as she reached into her pack for a small black device. The faint glow in the dimness cast another shimmer of golden light off of her figure.
He watched her; his heart thudded in his chest. His breaths were short in intake almost as if he could barely keep up with his own body. He was about to ask her what she was doing when she turned her attention to the device, furrowing her brow as she fiddled with it. "What's that?" Ethan managed hoarsely.
"It might tell us things," Amara said, obscure. She thumbed at the device some times and the quiet buzzing of energy about them grew stronger. Beeps went through it, rhythmic, pulsing, sending some weird cadence of sound through the golden light. Ethan could feel it—alien, powerful.
"What things?" Ethan demanded, his voice shaking.
Amara did not react. Her eyes slitted, face tightened, and she continued to work at the device. The beeping grew loud, piercing. She stretched out towards the golden symbols on the floor, and seemed to awaken them-the flashing brightened, got faster as if it spoke with them.
Ethan's breaths were getting quicker. His eyes darted between the glowing symbols and Amara, unable to shake off the rising sense of dread that was gathering in his chest. His mind was swimming.
"What are you doing, Amara?" he asked again, this time louder.
"I'm trying to communicate," she said simply, her tone unwavering. Her eyes did not leave the device as she adjusted its settings. "They're trying to reach out to us. If I can unlock this code, we can make sense of their intentions."
He stared at her for a moment, his voice caught. His thoughts dissipated all about the place. What if dangerous? What if they were being tricked? What if this was all some kind of trap?
But he couldn't find his voice to say those thoughts. His feelings felt too volatile, too fragile. Amara's confidence, her sharp intelligence, made him feel safe even when his gut screamed at him to run.
"I don't know if this is a good idea," he whispered. His voice came out as a whisper, and she turned to him briefly, her expression unreadable.
"Fear is not going to get us out of here," she said quickly. Her words struck Ethan like a windstorm and knocked him off balance. His pride and his fear battled with each other; he gritted his lower lip and clenched the emotions back inside.
Before he could argue, noise came from behind them. Ethan froze again, body on guard. His hand remained on his weapon, breaths short. Amara was already moving, eyes focused, scanning the direction of the noise. They weren't alone.
A second noise manifested, closer this time—a metallic screech, like machinery coming to life. He felt it; the presence of something out there—alive, watching, waiting. His muscles coiled, ready.
"Stay behind me," Amara said, pulling the device close to her chest. Her hand was steady, unyielding. Ethan found himself obeying without question. It was dangerous to trust, but his instincts had a tight rein on him; he couldn't go against her.
Before he could even react, movement came from the shadows. A figure emerged—a sleek, humanoid figure made of gleaming metal and sharp angles, its movements graceful but purposeful. Ethan's breath caught as he took in its glowing eyes, its features smooth and intimidating.
A machine? A sentient entity? His mind was racing, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Get not out," Amara breathed. She spoke so low that it seemed on the brink of being buried by the vibrations of golden energy reverb-ing through the air.
The figure moved closer, and Ethan saw a gun to its side, now moving with deliberation. Tension filled the air, like knives on sharp edges.
The figure raised a hand, and for one fleeting instant, Ethan swore he heard words within the syllables-a combination of alien and familiar. His body ached with a growing fear, but Amara hesitated not. She too raised her hand, and within it pulsed brightly the thing in her palm.
"We come in peace," she said, her voice firm and clear.
"I'm trying to communicate," she added, her voice steady. "We mean no harm."
The metal man paused. Its glowing eyes narrowed, and its arm lowered, though he remained wary. Ethan could feel his heart thumping against his chest; the contrast to the mechanical's smooth movement was marked by sharp inhalations of air.
The golden light pulsed again. Ethan felt himself entranced by it, the symbols, the energy, the presences of the alien machine. His thoughts swirled and yet his attention remained piercing. He could feel that it was only the beginning.
The sound grew louder once again and now thoughts surged with possibilities. What are they communicating? What secrets lie in this ancient machine?
And then he turned back into the darkness. The golden light dimmed a little, and tension in the air dissipated. Ethan's heart, though, remained heavy.
"Remain alert," Amara said, putting the device on the floor. She moved closer to him, her eyes once again piercing into his soul. "This is but the beginning."
It was a storm in his heart—a storm of fear and wonder and maybe something deeper—something far more dangerous than his grandfather had ever attempted to reveal. But as he stood there, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, that the story was only beginning.