Hazumono Colony — XX:XX

  It’s the dead of night.

  Inside Hazumono’s central radio tower, nothing moves except the slow pulse of aging monitors and the faint blue glow of the perimeter fence stretching across the ash-covered plains.

  A lone surveillance drone drifts past the windows, stabilizers whining as its screen flickers red. The machine dips, corrects, and wobbles back into place.

  “Nineteen’s batteries are dying again,” the Drone Operator mutters, rubbing her face with both hands. “We really need new chargers.”

  “Send a ticket,” the Lead replies without looking up. She scrolls through night-cycle reports with half-lidded eyes, tapping a slow rhythm into the desk. A tired yawn slips out before she forces her focus back to the screen.

  “You know how long they take to respond,” the Operator sighs. She pushes away from her chair. “I’m getting coffee. Either of you want something?”

  “I’m fine,” the Controller says—steady, alert, the only one unbothered by the hour. She sits surrounded by monitors, watching radar pings crawl across half a dozen grids.

  The Lead groans. “How are you so awake? I’m dying over here.” She waves a hand. “Get me an espresso. Extra cream.”

  The Operator steps out, leaving the door to hiss shut behind her.

  The Lead slumps forward, resting her forehead against the metal desk. “It’s too quiet,” she mumbles into her sleeve. “Usually we’ve had at least a few Eidolon pings by now.”

  “Don’t jinx us,” the Controller replies. Her voice is flat, but her eyes never leave the screens. “Just enjoy the silence.”

  But the silence doesn’t last.

  Something flickers through the intercom—soft, low, almost too gentle to be real.

  hummm~ hum—hum—hummm…

  A quiet vibration threads through the floor and up the desks, like a breath pushing through dead machinery.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What was that?” the Lead mutters.

  “I don’t know,” the Controller answers, still typing. “Probably the Operator bumping into the intercom.”

  “You’re probably—”

  The door hisses open.

  The Drone Operator steps back inside, two steaming cups in hand. She crosses the room before setting one of them down in front of the Lead.

  “Hey,” the Lead asks, “were you humming just now?”

  The Operator faulters. “…Humming?” She she shakes her head. “I thought that was one of you messing with me.”

  A quiet unease settles between them—before the sound comes again.

  la—loo… la—la—looo…

  It drifts through the room like breath across glass—soft, slow, almost human.

  The Controller goes rigid. “…That’s not the intercom.” She spins toward her monitors, eyes narrowing. “And it’s not coming from any channels we have open.”

  The Lead straightens sharply. “Operator—check the perimeter feeds. Get every drone we have into the air. Controller, any signals at all?”

  The Controller’s fingers move fast, tapping through diagnostics. “Nothing. No transmissions. No pings. Nothing.”

  The Operator drops into her seat, sliding her headset on.

  “Talk to me!” the Lead pushes. “Do you see anything out there?!”

  “One sec—” Then she gasps, jerking away from the screen. “All perimeter cameras just shut off. Every single one.” She scrambles at her controls. “Deploying drones now—”

  But the sound arrives first.

  hummm~ hmm—hmm—haa…

  Zz–zip!

  “Ah—!” The Operator yelps as her headset sparks. She rips it off and throws it to the floor, clutching the side of her face.

  “What was that?!” the Controller cries, pushing back from her desk.

  The Operator’s voice trembles. “I don’t know… but right before it blew, all I saw was this strange blue glow—then every drone died at once.”

  She looks up slowly.

  “And it happened at the exact same time as that… singing.”

  The Controller’s eyes dart across her darkening screens, hands trembling as she presses them to her mouth. “There’s nothing… I’m not getting anything. Whatever’s doing this—it’s not showing up on any system.”

  The tower lights flicker—once… twice… faster.

  Then another sound drifts through the room.

  A low, drawn-out melody—

  la—loo…

  la—la—looo…

  Every monitor blacks out at once and the entire colony drops into complete darkness.

  “A blackout?” the Lead breathes. Her voice shakes. “At this hour? Why isn’t the backup generator coming online?”

  The Operator’s eyes widen. Slowly—almost unconsciously—she walks toward the window. The two others watch her in frozen silence as her hand presses against the cold glass.

  “Guys…” Her voice cracks. “There’s something out there.”

  Before any of them can speak—

  THOOOM—!

  A heavy tremor shakes the tower.

  Vrrrrrm—CHNK—krrrnnn…

  Metal groans—deep, growing closer.

  …THOOOM!!!

  The three women stumble together in front of the window, clinging to each other as a bright blue glow swells in the distance.

  A light too large. Too deliberate.

  Like a second sun rising in the dead of night.

  The sound returns, clearer now than ever.

  laa… la—loo…

  …la—luuu…

  hmmmmm~

  A soft, gentle song.

  A pure, calming melody.

  The kind sung to soothe a child to sleep.

  Kind of like… a lullaby.

  [SIGNAL LOST]

  Patreon. Early access helps me keep writing, editing, and polishing Stars of Arcadia to the quality it deserves.