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Rose followed Ethan and Finn down the curved corridor, her ramping pulse making her fingertips numb. The emergency lighting cast long shadows that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. To her left, the black water pressed against the glass, an impenetrable darkness that threatened to swallow them whole. On her right, the doors to the crew quarters lined their path like silent sentinels.

There should be the noise of people here coming in and out of their rooms. The general hubbub of human life. But instead, there was nothing.

Where the hell is everyone ?

“Main command room’s up ahead.” Ethan’s stride was efficient, his long legs eating up the distance. “We’ll have a better overview of what’s going on from there.”

Their footsteps echoed through the empty, curving corridor, the sound bouncing off the walls and ceiling in a discordant cacophony that set Rose’s teeth on edge. Like Ethan, Finn carried his pulse rifle at the ready, the sleek black weapon held with an illusory casual ease.

Guns. They were the jarring note clashing with everything she’d been told about this mission. No one had said anything to her about weapons being required.

She drew level with the two men, breaking into a jog to keep up with them. “You have guns.”

A look passed between them.

“Do you know what happened down here?” Ethan asked.

“No—”

He looked forward. “Well in that case, we’re sticking with the guns.”

“This is a rescue mission.” Her voice rose several octaves, but she was no longer sure she cared. “Why do you need weapons? We’re here to help people, not shoot them.”

Finn’s expression hardened into a mask of professionalism. “We don’t know the reason for comms going dark. We have to come prepared. Anything else would be na?ve.” He paused, his gaze softening. “It’s important to be prepared for all eventualities.”

Rose swallowed hard. He had a point, as much as she hated to admit it. They were walking into an unknown situation.

Even so, the sight of the weapons, the easy efficiency with which they both carried them, felt wrong. This was a civilian research facility, not a war zone. Her mind raced with the implications of what their presence here might mean, the questions piling up like stones on her chest. How honest had Margaret been with her about what had happened here?

“We’re here to help.” She couldn’t help but frown. “I’m here to help get people home. That’s all.”

Finn’s expression shifted and Rose glimpsed the man beneath the military exterior. “I know.” His voice gentled. “ And that’s what we’re going to do. But we can’t help anyone if we’re not prepared for all eventualities.”

Ethan slowed and pointed to the large double doors that loomed ahead of them. “Command center.”

“Rose. Behind me.” Finn’s voice became razor sharp, his gun raised once more.

“What—”

Finn cut her protest dead as he stepped in front of her, his enormous frame blocking her way forward.

She stared at his back. The man was a mountain. If she threw herself at him, she’d be lucky if he even noticed her body hitting his. She wiped her damp hands on her pant leg, trying to calm the nervous flutter in her stomach.

Ahead, Ethan palmed the door lock. The doors slid open with a muted whoosh. Ethan stepped inside, gun ready.

“Stay here.” Finn turned and pressed his hand to her shoulder, emphasizing his words with downward pressure. He pinned her in place, his gaze intense. “Don’t. Move.”

While his commanding tone irked her, she nodded her silent compliance. He released her and disappeared into the command center with Ethan.

She leaned against the corridor wall and waited for them to return. The emptiness of the corridor was unnerving, a tangible presence that seemed to press in on her from all sides.

This place was spooking her out.

Several minutes passed as she fought to keep her breathing steady.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Finn reappeared at the door, his expression unreadable.

“There’s no one here. It’s safe.” He beckoned her inside taking her hand and giving it a brief squeeze.

A current ran up her arm, stilling a tremor. Her breath steadied as his shoulder aligned with hers, his solid frame between her and the darkened corridor of the Io.

Since burying her parents and watching Thea walk away for the last time, she’d navigated life alone. No safety nets. No backup plans that involved someone else catching her if she fell.

Yet now, with the habitat’s strangeness surrounding them, her reflexes betrayed her. When the shadows shifted, she didn’t step forward—she stepped closer to Finn.

Her fingers ghosted over the spot where his hand had touched hers. The warmth persisted. She’d forgotten what it felt like, that peculiar lightness that came when someone else carried part of the weight. She swallowed hard, surprised by how much she wanted to reach for his hand again.

“This place gives me the creeps.”Finn’s mutter brought her back to the present.

He was right.

A resonant hum of power dominated the command center, but just like everywhere else in the habitat, it was empty, devoid of any sign of life. The crew had left nothing but a ghostly silence in their absence.

The sense of wrongness lingered.

The room was crescent-shaped, with an impressive floor-to-ceiling window that looked out onto the inky darkness of the lake beyond. Rose moved closer to the glass, her eyes straining to penetrate the gloom. But there was nothing to see, just an endless expanse of black water that seemed to swallow the light whole. She turned away from the window, smoothing the raised hairs on the back of her neck with trembling fingers.

Her eyes struggled to adjust to the feeble light bathing the room. The air carried a hint of ozone and the faint, acrid tang of sweat, a memory of the life that had once been here.

At the heart of the room, a circle of sleek workstations formed a hub. Chairs sat empty at each station, their polished metal frames contrasting with expensive looking white leather upholstery. Rose ran her fingers along the smooth surface of one chair, feeling the coolness of the metal. Her own lab had cheap plastic chairs. Triton core had spared no expense here.

In the center of the circle, there was a polished steel table, its surface a flawless expanse of gleaming metal. She guessed it was a base for holographic maps, which would allow the crew to visualize their data in three-dimensional detail. But now, the table lay dormant. She turned slowly, taking in the rest of the room with a growing sense of unease. The banks of screens that lined the walls were dark, their surfaces a featureless black.

Rose blew out an audible breath. She was letting her imagination get the better of her. She would do well to remember she was a scientist.

She joined Finn where he’d taken a seat at the nearest workstation.

Ethan skimmed his hand across the comms button in his ear. “Liev, this is Ethan. Sitrep?”

“Primary power has been temporarily disabled.” The comms in her ear crackled with Liev’s accented voice. “We’re running on auxiliary but all systems appear to be in order. I’ll have the primary power up and running in less than ten minutes. Life support looks good and the oxygen scrubbers are operating at one hundred percent.”

“Harris provided the passwords.” Finn removed a sturdy tablet from inside his tactical vest. He pulled a keyboard close and typed.

The screen remained black for a moment before it cleared, revealing the three-pronged Triton Core logo. Finn sucked air through his teeth, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the emblem. He exhaled slowly as he tapped his fingertips against the tabletop. “Okay. Let’s see where the crew is.”

His hands flew over the keyboard. “The crew has been electronically tagged.” He waited for his request to load as the Triton Core logo rotated.

“Tagged?” Rose pulled one of the sleek chairs closer, grateful to be off her feet for five minutes.

“It’s part of their contract, something to do with being able to track you down if you vanish with Triton’s top secret data.” Finn scowled. “A corporate ankle bracelet with extra zest.”

Rose rubbed small circles against the points of tension in her temple. The idea of being electronically monitored sent ice down her spine. “Sounds like Triton has trust issues.”

“You have no idea.” His mouth drew into a thin line. “They make paranoid schizophrenics look well-adjusted.”

Above their heads, the main lights flared and then settled, a clean brightness replacing the muted softness of the emergency lighting. The drone of the computers increased several decibels, the noise of a system prepping for action. Rose’s pulse skittered. Why was restoring the power to the mainframe freaking her out so much?

Ethan paced behind her. “Liev. Command center is live. Initiating full lockdown protocol. Io perimeter sealed. Any breach will trigger the alarm.”

Finn’s monitor chimed.

Her guess about the function of the table had been correct. A 3d holographic representation of the base in crisp azure blue materialized in the center of the room. A cluster of yellow dots filled one corner of the illuminated structure.

“Is this the crew?” Rose pushed herself up from the chair, navigating the narrow gap between the workstations to get a better look. Pain speared her chest. Was one of them her sister, Thea?

Finn pushed his chair back, stretching out his long legs. “Yes. That’s them.”

Rose stared at the cluster, her mind racing. The crew was together, but their location within the base was far from any of the main living or working areas. It was as if someone had herded them into a corner, trapping them like animals in a cage.

“Where exactly are they?”

Finn’s eyes fixed on the hologram. “The biome.”