It was nightfall on the foreign planet, and the sky burned a dull shade of violet—a strange hue only seen in alien skies. The students, exhausted and weary from their day of exploration and battle, had retreated into their dormitories. The air outside was quiet, unsettlingly still, as though the planet itself was holding its breath. But inside the military base, the personnel were hard at work.
Their task was grim—counting. Counting the number of students who had entered the planet's surface and had not returned.
Those who had failed to check back in before the night alarms rang were not given the benefit of the doubt. No search parties, no hopeful broadcasts. They were instead added to the growing list of casualties. Marked as perished. Written off as lost on the very first day.
By the time the data was compiled and cross-checked, the total had reached twenty. Twenty confirmed dead.
