A frozen Antarctic outpost. A rescue team finds the trapped ship—no power, no heat, bloodstains in the snow. Five survivors huddle inside, silent, eyes haunted. One of them whispers: “We weren’t alone.”
Prologue – The Rescue
Initially, the wind howled across the Antarctic plain and cut through every layer of the rescue team’s gear.
Consequently, freezing air gripped the seams of their suits as they neared the stranded vessel, Vega.
Although the ship stopped sending signals weeks earlier, satellites tracked its final location—buried deep in unmapped ice.
The emergency team launched their mission to investigate.
As they arrived, the scene looked worse than they had imagined.
The Vega leaned sharply to one side, half-buried under thick snow.
There were no flickering lights. No smoke drifted by. And no one moved.
The eerie silence warned them to move carefully.
Inside the Wreck
The team entered through a side hatch and stepped into the dead cold.
Frost coated the walls. Flashlights swept over overturned tables, scattered papers, and shattered equipment.
A coffee mug lay frozen to the floor.
They walked deeper into the ship and spotted drops of frozen blood on the ground.
They followed the trail down a corridor until it stopped outside a sealed storage room.
Rather than open it, they pressed on, hoping to find someone alive.
The crew quarters told a grim story.
Ripped mattresses, broken doors, and piles of frozen clothes filled the rooms.
They moved quickly through the chaos.
Finally, in the mess hall, they found five people.
The survivors sat motionless, wrapped in layers of clothing.
One clutched an unlit flare.
No one said anything until the rescuers stepped closer.
A scarred man slowly lifted his head and whispered:
“We weren’t alone.”
The Investigation Deepens
The team carried the survivors back to base.
One dragged a limp leg. Another had a broken wrist.
Doctors treated frostbite, dehydration, and untreated injuries.
One young woman recoiled from any touch. Another stared at the wall without blinking.
The ship’s manifest listed 21 people.
Only five survived.
A week later, a larger crew returned to the Vega to investigate.
They searched every level and uncovered fire damage, melted wires, and smoke-stained walls.
In one room, they discovered a shrine made from tools and metal scraps.
Someone had placed small bones in the center.
In the freezer, they found two frozen bodies under a tarp.
The wall behind them displayed the initials: L.R. + M.V.
Outside the ship, the team spotted a narrow tunnel carved 100 meters from the hull.
It dropped 20 feet into the ice before ending in a collapse.
The ice around it looked smooth and cloudy, like something had passed through.
When they tried to dig, the tunnel walls began to shift and forced them to stop.
Back on the mainland, the survivors answered questions.
None told the same story.
One claimed the crew turned on each other.
Another described something coming from under the ice.
The youngest whispered about voices that started long before anyone disappeared.
Eventually, the authorities closed the case.
They blamed cold, hunger, and psychological collapse.
The report cited extreme weather and leadership failure.
Still, the rescuers and doctors who saw the survivors firsthand knew something felt wrong.
Too many details didn’t add up.
Too much fear stayed in the survivors’ eyes.
One line echoed through every report, interview, and memory:
“We weren’t alone.”
