Chapter Text
The pitch-black darkness of the Cafeteria was the first thing that hit me when my eyes snapped open. I sat up quickly. The power had been cut before we went to sleep, but the soft amber glow of the emergency lantern was supposed to be keeping the room lit. Instead, the lantern was completely dead, leaving the room submerged in a thick, suffocating shadow. "Purps?" I whispered, reaching out a gloved hand toward the spot right next to my towel where Purple had laid down. Nothing. My hand swept through empty air. My heart did a sudden, violent flip. I scrambled onto my knees, my visor scanning the dark room frantically. "Banana? Fortegreen?"
Silence. The heavy, metallic quiet of MIRA HQ pressed in on my ears, broken only by the faint hum of my own suit's oxygen scrubber. Rose was still there, completely oblivious to the world. But everyone else was gone. Panic surged through my chest like an electric shock. Three people missing at once. No warnings, no alarms… gone. "No, no, no, not again," I muttered under my breath, my breathing turning shallow as I kicked off my blanket and grabbed my flash-light. I didn’t care if I woke Rose up; instead I was sliding across the slick metal floor as I bolted toward the doorway.
I hit the main corridor running, the narrow beam of my light cutting through the pitch-black hallways. I sprinted past the locked doors of the Locker Room, my eyes darting to every dark shadow casting against the walls. "Purple?!" I called out, keeping my voice hushed so I wouldn't alert whatever might be lurking in the vents.
I checked the Launchpad: empty. The massive dropship bay sat silent under the dark glass windows. I sprinted toward Storage, sweeping my light over the stacked crates and supply shelves, but found nothing. My pulse was hammering against my bone now. If the Impostor had taken out three people silently while Rose and I slept, we were completely doomed.
I rounded the corner past Admin, my boots skidding against the floor plating, and headed straight down the hallway toward the Office. The electrical panel was in there. If anyone was going to try and fix the lights, or if something terrible had happened, that’s where they’d be. I gripped the frame of the door, holding my breath, and shoved the slider open.
I burst through the doorway with my flashlight raised like a weapon, ready to jump into action, only to freeze dead in my tracks. The Office wasn't a crime scene. In fact, it was practically a cozy social hour. Fortegreen was standing right in front of the open electrical panel on the wall, squinting through their visor as they methodically flipped a series of thick, colored breaker switches. Standing a few feet away, Banana was leaning back comfortably, flipping through the pages of a thick, blue MIRA HQ Operations Manual, while Purple leaned casually against the wall next to them with their arms crossed over their chest.
"—and so then we all started drawing Blue, talking about how much we love him!" Purple was saying, breaking into a high-pitched snicker. "Are you serious, Purple?! Oxygen deprivation had you guys doing that?"
"I wish I was exaggerating," Purple replied, their voice carrying a lazy, amused tone that sounded completely at odds with the dark, spooky room. "Cyan was completely out of it. Green was talking about some, I dunno, worm story?" Banana let out a loud, breathless laugh, snapping the manual shut against their knee. "No way! A worm story?! What did they even say?!“
"Something about 'growing up on a worm farm’," Purple shrugged. "It was an absolute disaster."
My foot clipped the metallic lip of the doorway as I lunged into the room, sending a loud, echoing clatter through the tight space. "GET BACK!" Fortegreen shrieked, instantly abandoning the electrical box and leaping backward with a wrench raised like a club. Banana let out an absolute, glass-shattering scream, dropping the heavy MIRA manual right onto their own foot with a dull thud and scrambling behind Purple. Even Purple jolted straight off the wall, their posture instantly dropping into a combat stance, fists raised and visor glowing a sharp, fierce cyan in the dark.
For two terrifying seconds, all three of them were completely locked onto me, ready to fight for their lives against whatever monster had just breached the room. "Whoa, whoa, WHOA! It's me! It's Red!" I yelped, throwing my hands up in the air and shining the flashlight beam straight down at me so they could see my suit color. "Don't hit me!"
The heavy, panic-laced silence in the room slowly melted away. Fortegreen lowered the wrench inch by inch, letting out a long, pathetic whine as their shoulders slumped. "Red! MIRA's sake, do you have to enter a dark room like a runaway battering ram?!" Banana sighed from behind Purple, clutching their chest and breathing like they'd just run a marathon. "My heart just leapt entirely out of my suit!"
Purple let out a long, ragged exhale, slowly unclenching their fists and dropping their hands back to their sides. The sharp, guarded edge in their posture softened, though they gave their head a tired, exasperated shake. "Red..." Purple muttered, their voice a quiet mixture of profound relief and mild annoyance. "You're going to give all of us a heart attack."
"Sorry! I am so, so sorry!" I held my gloved hands up defensively, my visor fogging up from the sheer, burning embarrassment. "I woke up, saw three seats empty in the Cafeteria, and completely panicked! I thought Maroon was back!"
Fortegreen let out one last exaggerated grumble before turning back to the open panel on the wall. They reached down, picked up the blue manual Banana had dropped, and carefully nudged a heavy red breaker switch upward. With a loud, satisfying clack, the fluorescent overhead lights buzzed to life, flooding the Office with bright, stark white light that made us all squint for a second. Fortegreen wiped their forehead, staring at the humming panel thoughtfully as they clicked the cover shut. "Wait a minute... Purple, you said you guys went through oxygen deprivation? Your story sounds eerily similar to what was officially reported on that one deep-space ship recently... the incident with—"
"Uhh... Fortegreen!" Banana interjected loudly, clapping their hands together with a sudden SMACK that echoed through the room. They frantically cut Fortegreen off before they could connect the dots and realized me and Purple were the survivors from that infamous Skeld report. "What happened between you and Coral before they... you know? Were you two close?"
Fortegreen froze, the wrench loosening in their grip. A deep, noticeable flush of pink bloomed across their visor. They tensed up instantly, the lighthearted mood in the room vanishing into something heavy, somber, and deeply uncomfortable. "We... actually dated," Fortegreen admitted softly, their voice dropping an octave as they stared down at the metal floor grating. "Not long after the first crew grouping. We kept it strictly quiet because of MIRA regulations, but... yeah. We were together." My brain was still running on low sleep and pure leftover adrenaline, and before I could even filter my thoughts, the words tumbled right out of my mouth. "What are you gonna do now that Coral's dead?" The moment the words left my lips, I wanted to swallow them right back down. Banana winced visibly, taking a step back, and Purple gave me a sharp, heavy nudge straight into my bone with their hand.
Fortegreen didn't snap or throw the wrench, though. They just stared blankly at the wall, their shoulders rigid and their jaw tight behind their suit mask. "Well... the only thing I really can do is make up for it by avenging them," Fortegreen said, their voice hollow yet fiercely determined. "And I'm pretty sure Maroon was the monster who killed them. But Maroon's gone now... tossed right into the clouds. So... we should finally be safe."
With the lights bright and humming, the heavy, suffocating mood in the Office began to lift, though my mind was still spinning from Fortegreen’s confession. We made our way out of the room, stepping into the high-tech corridors toward the Laboratory to loop back to the Cafeteria. As we walked, I noticed the walls in this section were different. Instead, everything was covered in heavy steel plating, copper wiring conduits, and framed blueprints detailing MIRA HQ’s original design.
"You know," Fortegreen spoke up, breaking the quiet as their boots clacked against the floor, "working procedural maintenance meant I had to memorize the station’s structural schematics. MIRA HQ isn't just an atmospheric research outpost. It’s... weirdly built. Over-engineered." Banana tilted their head, looking up at a heavy glass case filled with old corporate brass plaques. "What do you mean, over-engineered? Never heard anyone explain it that way before."
"Look at the power grid," Fortegreen said, gesturing toward a massive, reinforced conduit running along the ceiling toward the Reactor. "Standard ships run on fuel cells or dark-matter generators. But MIRA? The entire station’s backup infrastructure runs on a completely classified bio-organic power source. I checked the intake valves during my first week, the fuel chambers aren't filled with liquid fuel. They're pressurized pod tanks. Huge, oval, glowing containers."
"Wait, like bio-reactors?" I asked, looking up at the thick steel cables. "Like organic batteries?"
"Exactly," Fortegreen nodded, their tone dropping into a puzzled, analytical hum. "And the whole place is run like a hyper-monitored centre. Pink's executive level doesn't operate like standard MIRA command. Have you guys ever seen Pink's personal staff? The ones on the higher administrative floors?" Banana shuddered, crossing their arms tightly. "Ugh, don't remind me. The suited ones."
"They don't even look like individuals," Fortegreen continued, shaking their head behind their visor. "Every single one of them wears the exact same crisp black suit, the exact same white skin, and they move in total, uncanny unison. It’s like Pink copy-pasted a thousand identical employees just to keep absolute, iron-fisted control over every inch of this business. It feels less like a company and more like a... a corporate hive." Purple was keeping their eyes on the hallway ahead. "That’s MIRA for you. Total compliance, zero individuality, and endless secret projects hidden behind executive non-disclosure agreements."
"Still," I muttered, sweeping my gaze across the cold, pristine laboratory glass as we rounded the corner toward the Cafeteria. "It makes you wonder what Pink is actually harvesting up here in the clouds..." Later on, we pushed open the double doors to the Cafeteria, the soft glow of the overhead lights spilling across the wide floor. Rose hadn't budged an inch. They were still curled up on their side, face buried into the corner of their blanket (or was it a towel?), breathing in steady, silent rhythms.
"Look at them," Banana whispered, stepping quietly so their boots wouldn't clack against the tile. "Out like a light." Banana cooed. "Leave them be," Purple said, leaning against the edge of a nearby cafeteria table and crossing their arms. "After the absolute mess yesterday was, Rose earned the extra sleep."
"Agreed," Fortegreen muttered softly. They pulled out a chair, setting their wrench down on the table with extra care before slumping into the seat with a long, exhausted sigh. "Besides, if we wake them up now, it’s back to work." I couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, setting my flashlight down next to Fortegreen's wrench. "Fair point."
I grabbed a couple of folded towels off the floor and slid down onto the bench beside Purple, letting my head rest back against the metal wall. The Cafeteria felt entirely different in the warm, fully restored lighting: less like a panicked emergency shelter and more like a quiet breakroom. Banana hopped up onto the edge of the table, swinging their legs back and forth while casually flipping through the manual again, while Fortegreen rested their chin in their hand, staring absently out the giant glass windows at the dense, endless sea of white clouds passing by outside MIRA HQ. The sun was slowly rising. For the first time in what felt like forever, nobody was shouting, nobody was scanning the room for danger, and nobody was looking over their shoulder. It was just a few crewmates sitting around in the quiet early morning, enjoying a rare, peaceful pause before the station came alive again… Nice. The way it should be.
"So... if the power grid runs on bio-reactors and Pink's staff are basically carbon-copy drones," Purple said, breaking the quiet, "what do you think MIRA's actual end goal is up here?" Fortegreen shrugged, staring out at the endless expanse of clouds. "Corporate expansion. Resource hoarding. The usual MIRA executive garbage."
"I think it's stranger than that," Banana murmured, leaning forward and lowering their voice so it wouldn't carry toward the sleeping Rose. "When I was digging through the database files trying to figure out Maroon's clearance level, I stumbled across a restricted directory. High-level executive stuff. Pages of encrypted logs detailing something called Project Re-Specimen." Purple tilted their head, visor gleaming with quiet interest. "Project Re-Specimen?"
"Yeah," Banana whispered, eyes darting between us. "It wasn't about weapons or fuel. It was about personnel. There were detailed files tracking the cognitive behavior of 'active units' on the station. The logs kept mentioning how certain subjects would eventually reach 'threshold awareness'; realizing things they weren't supposed to know about the upper management, and had to be 'recycled and reset.'" My stomach dropped slightly. "Recycled?"
"Like... replaced," Banana said, a cold chill settling over the conversation. "There was a whole sub-file dedicated to continuous subject replication. Tracking someone on a station, monitoring them to make sure they stayed perfectly innocent and unaware. And every time that subject figured out MIRA's secrets? Poof. Wiped clean, reset, and swapped out with a fresh copy to keep the facade going." Fortegreen frowned, looking unsettled. "That's insane. Who were they tracking?"
"The names were completely redacted," Banana admitted, shaking their head. "Just subject numbers and status reports. But whoever it is... MIRA is watching them constantly. Keeping them trapped in a loop just to protect whatever corporate cult Pink is running."
"It's not just the active units, either," Fortegreen spoke up softly, leaning back against the cafeteria chair and staring down at their gloved hands. "If Banana's files are right, it explains a lot of the weird personnel logs I stumbled on during maintenance sweeps." I shifted on the bench, looking over at him. "What kind of logs?"
"Past workers," Fortegreen said, his voice dropping into a low, uneasy quiet. "MIRA’s turn-over rate up here isn't just high, it’s mathematically impossible. Dozens of crew members transferred in, assigned to high-security sectors like the Laboratory or Admin, and then... vanished from the registry entirely within weeks. No transfer orders out, no departure logs at the Launchpad. Just erased."
"You think they figured out the secret?" Purple asked, leaning forward, their visor reflecting the cool blue light of the room. "And Pink just... cleared the board?"
"Either that, or they were never standard hires in the first place," Fortegreen muttered, shaking his head. "I found old shift rosters from two years ago. The names were completely different, but the duty logs? The daily routines, the exact routes taken through the halls, even the little personal quirks noted by supervisors? Identical to current staff." Banana pulled their knees up to their chest, shivering slightly despite the warm air blowing from the vents. "So... we’re sitting on a floating fortress run by a shadowy corporate hive that literally replaces people when they learn too much."
"Pretty much," Fortegreen said grimly. A quiet, heavy silence fell over the table as the weight of it all sank in. "Wait a second," I said, my visor crinkling as I looked between Fortegreen and Banana. "Why are there aliens in here anyway? I thought everybody was supposed to be regular MIRA employees.”
The moment the words left my mouth, the casual atmosphere in the Cafeteria completely evaporated. Fortegreen stopped fidgeting with his wrench. Banana’s foot suspended mid-swing off the side of the table. They exchanged a long, heavy glance: a silent, intense look that instantly set off warning bells in my head. Neither of them spoke for a solid five seconds, clearly hesitating, picking and choosing their next words with extreme caution.
"Red..." Banana started slowly, their voice dropping into a guarded, unusually careful tone as they carefully closed the MIRA manual. "You... really don't know how MIRA sources its 'specialized workforce', do you?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, my pulse quickening as I sat up straight. "It's a job! We applied, we got hired, we wore the suits!" Fortegreen took a deep breath, staring directly at the metal table surface like he was trying to calculate the safest way to word what came next. "MIRA doesn't just hire people from standard recruitment pools, Red," Fortegreen murmured, keeping his voice so low it was practically a whisper. "When a company controls deep-space exploration, they don't just harvest resources. They... integrate local specimens. If an entity proves useful, compliant, or easy enough to replicate... MIRA gives them a suit, assigns them a color, and puts them on the payroll."
They looked up, their visor locking onto mine with dead seriousness. "Most of the staff working on this station aren't human, Red," Fortegreen said softly. "They never were. And half the time... the employees don't even realize what they actually are." My visor felt burning hot as Fortegreen's words hung in the air. I looked over at Purple, hoping they'd jump in and tell me Fortegreen was just messing with my head, but Purple remained dead silent, their jaw set tight.
"You're... you're joking, right?" I stuttered, my voice cracking slightly as my eyes darted back to Banana. "We eat together! We play cards! We literally complain about the exact same low-tier MIRA salaries!"
"That's the point of the suits, Red," Banana said quietly, hugging their knees tighter against their chest. "The suits keep everyone looking uniform. It protects the company's image, but more importantly... it keeps us from seeing what's really breathing under the glass. MIRA built a system where you could be sitting right next to an alien entity and never even know it, so long as they're doing their daily tasks and wearing the company logo." I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as the realization crashed over me. Every hallway, every routine sweep, every casual conversation we'd had since stepping onto MIRA HQ suddenly felt completely surreal. "So... anyone could be an alien?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the ventilation system. "Literally anyone in a suit?"
"Pretty much," Fortegreen muttered, picking up his wrench and spinning it nervously between his fingers. "Which means the line between 'crewmate' and 'specimen' was erased by Pink a long, long time ago."
…
"Oh! Good morning, Rose!" Banana blurted out, their voice jumping an octave as they practically slammed the MIRA manual flat onto the table. Fortegreen instantly straightened up and started glaring at the table. "We were just… discussing the rate of beans."
"It's a serious structural flaw," Purple added smoothly, not missing a beat as they leaned back against the wall and crossed their arms. "We were just saying Pink needs to allocate more budget." I blinked, taking a second to process the absolute, Olympic-level pivot my crewmates had just executed. My heart was still hammering against my ribs from Fortegreen's alien reveal, but I forced a rigid, awkward smile behind my visor and gave a stiff wave. "Yeah! Totally."
Rose sat there, a straight visor. This really wasn’t working, wasn’t it? Their glare struck right at Fortegreen. Maybe… I don’t know, morning grump? Maybe that’s it. I mean, you can’t possibly be happy all day! It struck me how easily Rose could smile. How Rose could switch from a grin to a side-eye in milliseconds. Perhaps that was why they were so different, so… mysterious in a way, yet you feel like you know everything about them from first glance. Or maybe that’s just called assumption.
“Did I miss breakfast?” Rose stretched, their hands on their back. "Not at all," Banana said with an overly bright nod, sliding off the table so fast they nearly tripped over their own boots. "We were just waiting for you to wake up so we could... go check on the Greenhouse! Right, Red?"
"Right," I managed, swallowing down the lingering panic. "Normal, uh… Standard things."
“We still use the Greenhouse? Even after its incident?”
“The incident has been cleaned up, Rose. There’s nothing to worry about. Rest assured, no alien tentacle will show up ever again.” Fortegreen crossed their hands. Banana nodded. Rose stared for a few seconds, before it felt like a beam of light shined upon them once more. Their voice got noticeably more high-pitched. “Of course! Silly me. Fortegreen, a word? MIRA code!”
Fortegreen gulped silently, though it was noticeably a SOS sign from afar; we all knew it. Except for Rose, maybe. Those beads of sweat were a dead giveaway—Fortegreen was the dead giveaway. Fortegreen slowly, almost calculatingly, got off of the chair and walked with Rose to the hallway leading to the Office. Me, Purple, and Banana all looked towards each other.
“...So…?” I said.
“...Somebody has to check up on Fortegreen.” Purple said deadpanned. I froze. “What!?” I looked towards Banana, who just nodded. “I’ve never seen Rose behave that way before… It’s almost… Nevermind.“
“Okay…? Who will be the one to check up on them?”
“I will.” Purple said, their hands to their hips. “If anybody is good at snooping, it’s me!”
“Really? I don’t know, I feel like I would be pretty good at snooping…” Banana thought.
“Really? You?” Purple looked towards them. “No offense, but—”
Before we could even finish, Rose and Fortegreen returned. We wasted our time fighting over who snooped. We didn’t get to snoop at all! Bummer.
“Oh! Fortegreen, forgot to mention, when will that portal be open again? The one to help save us?”
“Huh? I told you this yesterday, Rose.”
“I know, but I forgot! Memory loss, hehe!”
“...Well, comms are off, so… I’d say… a few more days?”
“Ooh, I love spending time with everybody! It makes me feel so giddy and exhilarating!”
“...Why?” Banana stepped in.
“Well, it may seem weird, or corny at first, but I really love company! Any at all! Who doesn’t love affection?”
“Me.” Purple said, voice monotone. “I’m just not comfortable with it, personally.”
“And you know what, that’s a preference that I respect!” Rose clapped their hands together and to the side of them. “Greenhouse?”
Everybody looked at each other and nodded. We were on our way. To do what? I have no clue.
The airlock doors to the Greenhouse hissed, holding for a brief second as the pressure equalized. While Banana and Rose marched ahead, Rose was humming a faint, cheerful tune while swinging their watering can. Fortegreen slowed their pace, letting the distance between them grow until they were walking shoulder-to-shoulder with me in the back of the line.
"Red," Fortegreen muttered under their breath, keeping their eyes glued straight ahead toward the glass double doors. Their voice was so low it barely carried over the hum of the wall vents. "Don't bring up the files again. Not around Rose. Not around anyone." I glanced over. "What happened back there when Rose pulled you aside?"
Fortegreen’s visor tightened. “…”
”…Fortegreen…?”
They swallowed hard, their hands tightening into a fist. "I don't know if Rose is working for Pink, or if Pink is working on Rose, but if you keep blabbering about things you’re not meant to, you're going to get us all flagged.”
Before I could reply, Purple glanced back at us from the doorway, their visor catching the dim light. "You two coming, or are you holding a union meeting back there?" Fortegreen instantly forced a stiff, practiced posture, clearing their throat. "Right behind you!” I forced a nod, stepping through the threshold into the Greenhouse as the heavy doors slammed shut behind us, locking us in with the towering, silent plants.
The heavy airlock door sealed behind us with a pneumatic thud, leaving the five of us stranded in the humid, overgrown sprawl of the Greenhouse. Tropical leaves brushed against my visor as we fanned out toward our assigned rows. "Alright, plant duty," Banana sighed, dragging a heavy hose across the metal grate floor. "Let's just water the foliage and get out of here."
I nodded, grabbing a hand trowel to clear out dead leaves from a dense cluster of purple ferns near the far wall. Rose was only a few feet away, happily whistling a catchy MIRA promotional tune as they tipped their yellow watering can over a row of bio-luminescent moss.
My hand dug deep into the soil beneath the thick foliage, expecting soft dirt and damp roots. Instead, my gloved fingers clipped against something smooth, hard, and unmistakably solid. I paused, casting a quick side-eye toward Rose. They were still completely absorbed in their watering routine, eyes locked on the glowing moss. Fortegreen and Purple were clear on the other side of the room, arguing quietly over a clogged sprinkler valve.
Slowly, carefully, I wiggled the object free from the dirt.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I was holding a white, polished fragment; a small, solid bone shaped ridiculously, unnervingly like a massive bean bone. It wasn't synthetic plastic, and it definitely wasn't part of any standard station equipment. It was organic. The soil around it was stained a dark, suspicious brown.
What the absolute...
My breathing hitched inside my helmet. My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped the thing back into the dirt. A bone. In the soil of the Greenhouse.
Threshold awareness... recycled... erased. Banana's words from the Cafeteria echoed violently in my head. Was this what was left of a past crewmate?
"Find any weeds over there, Redsy?" Rose's voice cut through my racing thoughts like a razor blade. I jolted, my visor fogging slightly as I whipped my head around. Rose was leaning on their watering can, their head tilted with that same innocent, polite curiosity.
"Nope! Just... dead roots!" I blurted out, forcing my voice to stay level as I snapped my body into a position that blocked their view. In one smooth, desperate motion, I slipped the bone inside my suit's utility pouch, zipped it shut, and shoved my hand deep back into the soil. "Lots of... stubborn roots."
Rose stared at me for two long, agonizing seconds. The silence in the room stretched until I thought my chest was going to explode. "Make sure you dig them all out," Rose said softly, their visor gleaming in the green ambient light. "We wouldn't want anything unwanted growing in the garden."
"Right. Yeah. Absolutely," I managed, wiping cold sweat from my forehead behind my helmet.
Rose smiled, turned, and went back to their whistling.
I took a slow, deep breath, pressing my hand against the firm outline of the bone hidden in my pack. I needed to get Fortegreen alone. As soon as we split up for shift rotations, we were going to figure out exactly who—or what—this belonged to.
The humid air of the Greenhouse hung heavy for another twenty minutes as we finished up our tasks in near silence. The only sounds were the soft hiss of sprinkler heads, the steady trickle of water from Rose's yellow can, and the crunch of damp soil under our heavy boots. Nobody brought up MIRA codes, bio-reactors, or erased personnel logs ever again. We worked like textbook employees!
"All done here," Purple announced, wiping off their gloves and glancing toward the heavy exit doors. heading down to Communications to run a system diagnostic. Banana, you still need to finish up those inventory counts in Storage?"
"Yeah," Banana sighed, shoulder-slumping.
"Endless paperwork. Don't wait up for me."
As the group dispersed down the main hallway, I lingered near the corner by the Admin sector, my heart hammering against my ribs. The heavy weight of the bone inside my backpack seemed to grow colder by the second. I waited until Purple's and Banana's boot-steps faded into the distance, then caught Fortegreen‘s arm just as they turned toward the maintenance corridor.
"Fortegreen," I whispered, keeping my visor angled away from the overhead security cameras. "I need you in the Lab. Right now." Fortegreen frowned through their glass visor, visibly exhausted. "Red, I told you, we need to keep our heads down. If Rose—"
"It's not about the files," I cut in, leaning closer. "I found something in the soil back there. Something we need to run through the specimen scanner." Fortegreen looked at me for a long, tense moment, reading the frantic urgency in my posture. Without another word, they gave a tight nod and gestured for me to follow. We slipped through the side entrance of the Laboratory, the door sliding shut behind us with a firm, sealing hiss.
The Lab was bathed in a pale blue fluorescent glare. High-tech diagnostic monitors hummed along the walls, and the central bio-analyzer sat ready on the stainless steel counter. I reached into my utility pouch, my gloved fingers trembling slightly, and pulled out the smooth, white fragment. I set it down on the sterile metallic tray. Fortegreen leaned over the counter, their visor reflecting the cold blue light of the room. They froze dead in their tracks, staring at the object.
"Is that..." Fortegreen gasped, their voice barely a whisper. "Red, where did you get this?"
"Buried under the ferns in the Greenhouse," I said, my breathing turning shallow. "The soil around it was stained. Can you scan it? Can the automated database pull up a crew match?" Fortegreen didn't answer with words. They quickly tapped a series of commands into the glass interface console, pulling down the mechanical arm of the bio-analyzer over the tray. A sharp laser beam swept across the polished surface of the bone, casting dynamic grid patterns across the steel walls.
The console hummed, processing the organic sequencing data. Lines of encrypted MIRA corporate code flashed across the primary monitor, analyzing structural density, cellular signatures, and registered personnel markers. "It's running a deep-tissue sequence comparison against the station's roster records," They muttered, their hands hovering over the control panel as sweat began to bead along their forehead.
The analyzer let out a sharp, double chime. The screen flashed red for a brief microsecond before settling into a stark, cold white report window.
DNA MATCH CONFIRMED
SUBJECT ID: #884-CORAL
STATUS: DECEASED / RECYCLED
The quiet in the Laboratory turned instantly deafening.
Fortegreen stepped back from the console as if the display had burned them. Their wrench slipped from their loop, clattering against the metal floor plating with a sharp, echoing ring that neither of us bothered to pick up.
"Coral..." Fortegreen whispered, their voice breaking entirely as their visor fogged from their erratic tears forming at their visor. Their hands went up to the sides of their head, trembling violently. "The person who killed them… Maroon… they didn’t just make Coral a victim, they tried to hide it by stuffing their remains in the bush..." I stared at the monitor, my stomach dropping into a dark, bottomless pit. The full, horrific reality slammed into us all at once.
And as we stood there in the cold blue light of the Lab, the faint, cheerful sound of Rose whistling down the hallway outside began to echo through the vents. The cheerful, high-pitched whistling echoed through the metal ventilation ducts, growing louder with every passing second. It was the MIRA promotional jingle, rendered so crisp and sweet that it made my skin crawl.
Rose was heading straight for the Laboratory.
"Fortegreen, wake up!" I hissed, grabbing their arm and dragging them away from the glowing screen.
"They're right outside!" Fortegreen snapped out of their shock, their visor foggy with frantic breath. "The terminal—MIRA logs auto-sync to Pink's office if a match gets flagged! I have to clear the buffer!"
Their gloved fingers slammed into the glass console, typing commands at a breakneck speed. DELETE LOG. OVERWRITE DATA. PURGE LOCAL MEMORY. The blue monitor flashed red, displaying a pulsing progress bar that moved agonisingly slow.
30%…50%…
The heavy footsteps clacked against the hallway floor tiles outside. Rose wasn't rushing. They were taking their time, humming softly, the metallic clack-swish of their yellow watering can swinging at their side. "Fortegreen, forget it, we need to move!" I snatched the white bone fragment off the scanner tray and shoved it deep into my backpack, zipping it shut with a harsh yank.
80%... 100%—DATA PURGED.
"Clear!" Fortegreen gasped, smashing the master reset switch just as the automated glass doors of the Laboratory began their pneumatic sequence to slide open.
"In here, now!" I grabbed the back of Fortegreen's suit collar and hauled them behind the central bio-analyzer unit, wedging the two of us into the narrow, shadow-drenched gap between the heavy processing machinery and the cold steel wall. We pulled our knees tight against our chests, holding our breath so hard my lungs burned.
The double doors slid open with a soft, clean hiss. Through the narrow gap between the scanner's metal legs, I could see them step into the room. Rose paused right in the center of the Laboratory. The whistling stopped instantly, replaced by a dense, suffocating silence.
Rose stood completely still, their visor sweeping across the room. The terminal monitor was blank, still humming quietly from the hard reset. The empty scanner tray sat bare under the overhead spotlights. Slowly, Rose walked over to the central console. They reached out a gloved hand, running a single finger along the stainless steel counter right where the bone had been lying seconds ago. They brought their hand up, looking closely at the faint smudge of dark Greenhouse soil left behind on their hand.
My heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I was terrified the suit's diagnostic sensors would broadcast the pulse. Beside me, Fortegreen was trembling, their gloved hand pressed tightly over their own visor mask to muffle any sound.
Rose didn't call out for us. They didn't search the corners. They simply stood there at the terminal, staring at the soil on their glove, their posture shifting from their usual bounce to something stiff, unnatural, and completely motionless. Then, with a small, cheerful sigh that sounded entirely forced, Rose tapped their foot against the floor grating.
"Oh dear," Rose said softly to the empty room, their voice carrying a quiet, sing-song tone that chilled me to the core. "Somebody left a mess in the clean lab! Perhaps it was Banana, that silly little bean! Or Fortegreen, the little test tube they are! Or… them.” Rose's voice dropped an octave. Was Rose clenching on something? “How do they get it? How can I…” Rose stood there. I tried not to raise my head too much to where it was noticeable. It was like Rose thought we weren’t in here. As if they can finally let their guard down. “…Aha. I would contact Pink here, but unfortunately, I can’t! Because of THEM. THEM, THEM, THEM!” Rose kicked the counter so hard the metal groaned. Fortegreen covered the space underneath my visor, though I have no mouth, and arguably they were more scared than I was. Fortegreen was shaking so badly it makes me wonder what they go through with employees like that. Creepy… I would freak out eventually.
“Red? Fortegreen? You in here?” Rose gained back their high-pitched voice. “Where are you guys? I’ve been searching everywhere!” Silence. Me and Fortegreen knew better; it was a trap. Rose isn’t like this… what has gone into them!? What’s going on… what happened… why is this happening…!?
Rose stood there for a minute, probably thinking if we heard nothing for a few seconds we assumed they were gone, but we never moved an inch and neither did Rose. They sighed and slumped their voice. Their real voice was deeper than I thought it was. “I do so much and yet I get nothing. Nothing in return! Ridiculous! And that Red bean… Ugh… I don’t know what to do about it… about Purple, Banana. Fortegreen… Fortegreen is smart, smart enough to…“
…
“...Oh, Fortegreen… You really are a remarkable little specimen, aren’t you? So sharp… You chase every stray wire, unearth every buried secret that’s meant to be hidden… you want to put the pieces together, don’t you?”
…
”…A golden butterfly.”
…
“You’re flawless, glowing, and fluttering so fiercely against the pane, entirely unaware that the glass was built to keep you inside. You’re building your own pin, Fortegreen. You’re snooping into business you shouldn’t. You and your little group of woke conspiracy theorists…”
I could hear the soft crunch of a rose, as if it has withered before, or once and twice again.
…
“...Do you believe in second chances, Fortegreen? Maybe fresh starts?”
…
“...You don’t want this the hard way, Fortegreen.”
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“...Isn’t MIRA so beautiful, Fortegreen? Giving access to things we’ve never seen—things society should never see from all over the galaxy! Isn’t it so fun to be a part of that whole spectacle?”
…
“Did you have fun, Fortegreen? Running around with your little bean toys in hope to discover something, anything about the company?”
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”I know you’re in here somewhere. You can’t hide forever, Fortegreen… nonetheless, I can’t stay here forever either. I still have the sour grape and the rotten banana to check up on.“
…
“...It’s over, Fortegreen. This little, ah… phenomenon is over. You hear me? OVER…”
…
“...Keep this in mind, Fortegreen: Keep MIRA code, keep your personnel, keep your databases, and keep your knowledge of the company out of your mouth permanently. Comms may be down but you know I still have access to Pink somehow. I’ll find a way, I always do.”
…
”…Anything for Pink, after all…”
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”…What have I become…?”