Dawn crept through the emerald canopy, transforming the mist into ghostly ribbons that twined around ancient trunks. Mina and Elias pushed forward, their boots sinking into soil so rich it seemed almost black against the luminous undergrowth. Strange flowers unfurled at their passing, releasing perfumes both alien and intoxicating. The forest breathed around them—literally breathed—with rhythmic pulses that sent ripples through the fog.

"Did you hear that?" Mina whispered, freezing mid-step as a melodic trill echoed from somewhere ahead.

Elias nodded, his eyes wide with wonder rather than fear. "Nothing like Earth's birds," he murmured, reaching for her hand. "We might be the first humans to ever hear that sound."

The thought hung between them, as tangible as the mist—they were pioneers in a world untouched by their kind, beautiful and mysterious beyond imagination.

The trees towered above them, their massive trunks spiraling skyward in impossible helices, bark the color of burnished copper etched with luminescent blue veins that pulsed with the forest's breath. Some were wider than the escape pod they'd abandoned three days ago, their canopies merging hundreds of feet overhead into a cathedral of emerald and gold. As they walked, a chorus of hoots began—not the familiar call of Earth's owls, but something more complex, almost musical. The sounds overlapped and echoed, creating harmonies that seemed to follow mathematical patterns, rising and falling in precise intervals. One particularly deep hoot reverberated through Mina's chest, making her heart skip. The calls seemed to communicate, responding to one another across vast distances, a conversation in a language they couldn't begin to comprehend but instinctively recognized as intelligent.

Mina's foot caught on something solid beneath the carpet of emerald moss. She knelt, brushing away layers of velvet green to reveal a smooth, curved surface. "Elias," she called, her voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this." Her fingers traced what appeared to be deliberate markings etched into stone—not random scratches, but precise geometric patterns interwoven with flowing, script-like symbols. The stone was warm beneath her touch, almost alive.

"That's... impossible," Elias breathed, crouching beside her. "This planet was uninhabited. That's why they sent us."

Mina's heart raced as she uncovered more of the stone, revealing a perfect arc that suggested a much larger circular structure beneath the forest floor. "Someone—or something—was here before us," she murmured, a shiver of both excitement and unease rippling through her. "But who? And where are they now?" The forest seemed to hold its breath around them, the musical hoots suddenly silent, as if waiting for her to solve a riddle written in stone.

Elias's jaw tightened as he placed a protective hand on Mina's shoulder. "We should keep moving," he said, his voice low and measured, though his eyes kept darting back to the stone. "It's probably just natural formations—crystalline structures that mimic patterns. Remember those 'alien ruins' they found on Mars? Just mineral deposits." He helped her to her feet, perhaps too quickly, his scientific skepticism wrestling with the undeniable evidence before them. The forest had grown unnervingly quiet, and shadows seemed to lengthen despite the climbing sun. "We need to find higher ground before nightfall," he insisted, gently steering her away from the stone circle. "Whatever this is... it's been here for centuries. It can wait another day." But his fingers lingered on the small of her back, betraying the tension coiled within him like a spring.

Mina reluctantly followed Elias, her mind still tracing those enigmatic patterns. Every few steps, she glanced back at the partially uncovered stone, now seeming to pulse with an inner light that matched the rhythm of the forest. The silence pressed against them, heavy and expectant, broken only by their footfalls and quickened breathing. They had nearly reached the edge of a clearing when the world around them erupted in brilliance. A searing flash split the sky—not lightning, but something more focused, more deliberate—a beam of intense white-blue light that pierced the canopy and illuminated the forest in stark, unnatural clarity for three heartbeats before vanishing. Birds—if they were birds—scattered in panicked flight.

"That came from the direction of base camp," Elias whispered, his face drained of color. "The emergency beacon—it has to be."

"Or something worse," Mina breathed, her fingers instinctively tightening around his.