The colony is quieter now than ever.

  Even the animals seem to be holding their breath.

  Above, three pale moons hang low, bleeding dim light across the walls.

  Arthur moves to the gate without a sound. He sets the carcass down—wrapped in leather—then adds a few vegetables from his garden and an Ell creature for good measure.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Sarah whispers. “It’s too quiet.”

  Arthur nods. “Yeah.”

  A sharp metallic clank splits the stillness.

  Arthur turns, eyes narrowing.

  “Jef? That you?”

  Jef emerges from the shadows on crutches.

  His leg is gone—only a stump remains, bound in filthy cloth. He’s thinner now, eyes darting like a trapped animal.

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  “What happened?” Arthur asks, concern threading his voice.

  Jef glances along the perimeter, unfocused.

  “It was my turn,” he mutters.

  He limps closer, gaze never leaving Arthur.

  Then his eyes drop to the supplies by the gate.

  “You’re leaving the meat.”

  Before Arthur can answer, confusion flickers across Jef’s face.

  “How are you not dead?”

  Suspicion hardens.

  “Have you been stealing our water? Our food?”

  He edges closer to the bundle.

  “They leave it for me,” he whispers.

  “Stay away from the meat. Stay away.”

  He looks over his shoulder, eyes wild, then raises a crutch like a weapon.

  “Get away from the gate, you thief!”

  He stumbles and falls, still yelling.

  Sarah’s voice cuts in—sharp, urgent.

  “It’s good we left. Go. Before you have to hurt him.”

  Arthur backs away slowly.

  “Sure, Jef. No worries. It’s yours.”

  He retreats into the darkness until the colony lights blur and fade.

  For a long moment, he looks back.

  The walls loom like tombstones beneath the moons.

  He wonders if Jef was ever his friend—or just another ghost clinging to hunger.

  This place had stripped them down to instinct.

  Even kindness felt dangerous now.

  ---

  Arthur reaches his cabin, shaken.

  He closes his eyes and steps into the Void.

  It wears the memory of a beach—gray-blue sky, waves rolling in a steady rhythm, birds crying overhead as the tide pulls back.

  Sarah stands barefoot in the surf, water rushing around her calves. Her yellow summer dress blows in the wind. A low, somber melody hums through the air—almost a funeral.

  Arthur approaches quietly.

  “I’m supposed to be the one who broods.”

  She turns and wraps her arms around him, holding tight—like she’s afraid he’ll vanish.

  “This is all my fault,” she says, voice breaking. “We should have—”

  Arthur leans into her, arms firm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t do that.”

  He kisses her hair.

  “We made the choice to come here together.”

  He lifts her chin gently.

  “We can’t change what happened here.”

  Jef’s face flashes in his mind—the missing leg, the madness—but he keeps it locked away.

  Some truths don’t belong in the Void.

  She clings to him.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  They walk the shoreline hand in hand, the gray sky stretching endlessly above—

  two ghosts chasing the echo of a happier day.

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