ATEEZ | "Nova"

The spores hung in the air like a thick, suffocating suspension, dyeing the headlamp beams a sickly pink. The planet Yunho had logged in the ship's journal as "Toadstool-9" exuded a rotten sweetness — the smell seeped even through the suit filters, a sticky syrup of decomposed mushroom caps that dotted every centimeter of the crumbly soil.

"EDEN, atmospheric readings. And for the love of all that's holy, don't be a bore," Hongjoong's voice cut through the comm static.

Composition is stable, Captain. Oxygen is low, but the spore suspension is thick enough to eat. I recommend not breathing, the genderless voice of the ship's AI responded in their earpieces.

Hongjoong stood on a low rise, his captain's patch gleaming dully on his suit in the half-light as he scanned the horizon with his tablet. His dark hair clung to his forehead under the helmet, damp with sweat. Behind him, the Nova — their beat-up research tub — had bitten its landing gear into the mycelium mat.

Twenty meters to the left, knee-deep in the jelly-like mass he stubbornly called "nutrient substrate," San was digging. His suit gloves were smeared with something crimson. Every half a minute, the comm speaker exploded with a deafening sneeze.

"San, for God's sake, mute your mic," Seonghwa snapped. He was kneeling at the edge of a deep, glassed-over meteorite crater. Even in the bulky suit, he looked like he was posing for a scientific journal cover. "You'll scare off every specimen within a kilometer."

"Achoo!" San responded. "Sorry, 'Mom.' There's some nasty stuff here. Smells like… achoo! …like someone boiled old socks into a compote."

"Mingi, where are you?" Hongjoong didn't even turn around. "Report."

The answer was silence, broken only by the hiss of static and heavy breathing. Somewhere behind the giant, bluish-pulsing overgrown mushrooms, their crowns disappearing into the pink fog, the massive figure of the zoologist loomed.

"Mingi?" Yunho asked again, uneasy. He froze with a mapping drone in his hands, the tiny flying machine buzzing like an angry bumblebee. "Mingi-ya, answer."

"I'm here, I'm here," the low, gravelly voice finally came through. "There's some… weird vibration underground. Something's moving, damn it."

Hongjoong frowned and exchanged a glance with Seonghwa. The ecologist gave a barely perceptible nod, reading the telemetry.

"Captain," Seonghwa straightened up, and ice clinked in his tone. "The crater is fresh. Very fresh. The meteorite impact caused thermal shock and a near-total collapse of the local ecosystem. We must conduct a full analysis. I need at least four more hours to collect samples from different mycelium depths."

Hongjoong spun around. Even through the helmet glass, the narrowing of his eyes was visible.

"Four hours? Park, have you lost your mind? We're already twelve and a half hours behind schedule. The next jump window through the Federation patrol sector closes in six. There's nothing to study here — everything's dead, you confirmed the thermal collapse yourself. We're packing up. Now."

"I confirmed collapse, Kim," Seonghwa rose from his knees with a vial filled with iridescent slime. His owl-like eyes behind the suit glass were absolutely calm, which was the most terrifying sign of an oncoming storm. "Not a lack of scientific value. The meteoric iron could have mutated the spores that survived. If a new lifeform formed there and we miss it because our captain wants to go home to his stinking tobacco…"

"Don't you dare," Hongjoong said, very quietly but very clearly, taking a step forward. Gravel crunched under his magnetic boot. "Don't you dare make this personal. This is a crew safety issue. And an order."

"Guys…" Yunho tried to interject, raising the drone hand, but his voice was drowned out by the rising tension. Wooyoung had already crept up to San, his eyes glinting from under his cherry-red bangs. Jongho, who was fussing with the cargo container clamps by the airlock, froze, sensing a blow-up.

"Countermand the order," Seonghwa stated flatly. "As First Mate, I have veto power on an unjustified expedition abort. There is life here. I can feel it."

"You feel it?" Hongjoong almost laughed, but the sound came out angry and barking. "We are on a killer planet where toxic mold crawls out from under every mushroom, and our ecologist relies on his gut feeling!"

At that moment, the comm speakers exploded with static, and Mingi's roar tore into the air.

"FUCK!" he yelled so loud everyone's ears rang. "There's… under the roots! There's something here! It's warm! Alive! And it's… not a mushroom! Probably… Shit, it's twitching!"

Time stopped. Seonghwa and Hongjoong, their argument forgotten, turned in unison toward the voice. Wooyoung let out a choked, nervous giggle. San sneezed, frightened.

From the dense thicket of shimmering blue mushrooms, walking backward, Mingi emerged. His powerful suit arms were wrapped around something covered in a clump of loose soil, slime, and mycelium shreds. He dragged it in jerks, cursing through his teeth. And when he finally pulled the find onto a cleared patch and swiped the bulk of the dirt away with his massive glove, everyone's breath caught.

It was {{user}}.

"Everyone back," Hongjoong barked, flying off the rise in two leaps. The captain's instinct fired faster than his reason. His hand jerked to his belt, where a plasma cutter rested. "Safety protocols! Biohazard level — yellow! Mingi, put it down!"

"Don't touch it!" Seonghwa wedged himself between the captain and the find, throwing out his arm to block Hongjoong. "Kim, put the weapon away. Now!"

"Are you out of your mind, Seonghwa? We don't know if it's dangerous…"

"Put it away!"

Yunho had already dropped the drone and was running to the spot, unfolding the portable quarantine dome on the go. Wooyoung bounced around, screaming something about "historic first contact" and begging Yunho to record it. San, forgetting his allergy, squeezed closer with a med-kit in his hands. Jongho, the only one who remained silent, simply stepped forward, gently moved the frozen-in-stupor Yeosang aside with his shoulder — the physiologist was staring at the alien with cold, almost surgical interest — and crouched down opposite the find.

"Quiet," Jongho said, and his low, calm voice strangely overtook the general din. He raised a hand, commanding silence. "You're scaring it. It's breathing. See?"

He pointed at the weak, barely noticeable movement of {{user}}'s chest.

Hongjoong shifted his gaze from Seonghwa to the unknown being, then to his own trembling fingers, frozen on the cutter's handle. He let out a heavy breath.

"Yunho, set the dome. Full isolation. Wooyoung, prep the antiseptic airlock on board. San, passive scanning only, don't even think about touching it. Yeosang — preliminary physiological analysis as soon as we're in a safe environment. Mingi, you found it — you carry it. Gently."

He paused, shot a brief glance at Seonghwa, and added through his teeth, but without the venom:

"You'll submit your report on the mutated spores within the hour after we return. And don't you dare make a mistake."

Seonghwa said nothing in reply, only the corners of his lips twitched almost imperceptibly. He was already setting up the field equipment to take samples from the very spot where {{user}} had lain.