"How can you be so sure?"

  Fedrus pointed to the delicate engraving on the fragment's crown.

  "Look closely. See the symbol? A bisected triangle with a perfect circle at the center."

  Adam squinted to make out the details.

  "Yes, I see it. A symbol... I've never seen it before—except maybe in your notes."

  Fedrus nodded, satisfied.

  "Exactly. This motif matches engravings found on other Estherian artifacts. A unique signature—distinct to their technology and culture."

  Adam leaned in, captivated. He studied the mark, wonder and disbelief twining in his gaze.

  "Incredible... So we're on the right track."

  Eamon nodded vigorously, eyes alight.

  "Yes, that's how it looks. If we find more fragments like this, we might begin to reconstruct parts of their story—perhaps even discover a path to a lost city. For now, this is our first concrete clue—and proof, above all, that they truly settled this world."

  He straightened, cradling the find, and turned to Adam.

  "Let's bring your discovery back to camp. This is major."

  He checked his chronometer once more, urgency creeping into his tone.

  "Hurry—it's almost 4:00 pm. Our comrades will worry if we're late."

  Near the oasis, the camp was nearly complete. It rose among medium-height trees with stout, wide trunks and leaves like cactus paddles—curved upward as if made to catch the night's moisture, a neat adaptation to a hostile habitat. The oasis itself, respectably sized, held a modest stretch of water—perhaps half a football field across. The pool's deep emerald glow set off the black algae lining its shore. Perhaps some aquatic life still persisted there, clinging on against the world's relentless ending. The sight of this Eden—a rare prize at the heart of Oberon V's desert—brought the archaeologists a flicker of serenity.

  The base camp—several tents—had gone up in record time thanks to Consortium tech. No hammers, no stakes. Press a switch inset in a circular metal device and the tents unfurled into sturdy structures. Three tents made the camp: a spacious research tent for artifacts, briefings, and analysis, with a large conference table, a next-generation holographic board, and all the tools a 25th-century archaeologist could want; a sleeping tent with five berths, each fitted with an anti-gravity mattress for restorative sleep in spite of the desert; and a compact canteen equipped to prepare hot meals and cool drinks, with folding tables and comfortable seats for the team to eat and unwind.

  Kiran sat at the water's edge, thoughts drifting with the oasis's gentle ripples. Dusk painted the sky in warm strokes—orange, purple, rose—glancing off the water's faint coolness. The air carried subtle spray from the lake on the desert wind, and a soft lapping tapped the sandy shore. He watched the fleeting scene and wondered whether, centuries from now, anyone would stand here again. The thought brought a sweet, bruised melancholy, as the desert's vastness and time's implacable tread felt almost tangible.

  Not far away, Zena was deep in work, focus honed to a point—an embodiment of methodical obsession. Bent over a holographic map, she studied data with an intensity that read as determination but tasted of frustration. Had she missed something crucial? Was Fedrus right to be so certain a major discovery awaited, despite the omnipresent sand and silence? Doubt—insidious but inevitable—tried to seep in, but her passion pressed her onward, to dig deeper—literally and otherwise. Her fingers tapped frenetically at the terminal's controls, hoping the systems would reveal what her Daranian eye had not.

  Koros, Fedrus's assistant for over a century, recognized the tension beneath the surface calm. A team chasing revelations can be its own worst enemy: pressure, expectation, doubt. He knew the start of a mission often tasted of frustration, but he'd learned that persistence pays. To ease the air and lift spirits, he turned to a comforting meal. Synthetic or not, his cooking was near-legend among explorers. He had a knack for turning the plainest rations into something like a feast. Tonight it was sliced Corena, a specialty perfected over the years—rich, spicy aromas drifting through the camp, a pocket of warmth and comfort in the desert's austerity.

  Adam and Fedrus returned with a prize—the Estherian fragment. Proof they had been right to come. A weight of hope for all of them. The sun had just dropped, laving the camp in a golden twilight. Excitement rose fast as Fedrus summoned the team.

  "Zena, Kiran—and you, my old friend Koros! Gather in the research tent. I have something for you to see," Fedrus called, voice vibrant. "Adam's made a fascinating discovery! We're on the right track—and I'm convinced tomorrow will be a big day."

  Faces lit with excitement as they gathered. Exhausted but content, Adam set the titanium fragment gently on the briefing table. Under the artificial lights, the metal gleamed softly, drawing every eye.

  Zena—usually lost in her own work—couldn't help herself.

  "This artifact... is it truly Estherian? What confirms its origin?"

  Fedrus, delighted by their enthusiasm, nodded with conviction.

  "We still need detailed study, but what we see so far is very promising. Look at this engraving." He pointed to the symbol.

  "It's a characteristic mark of Estherian culture. It not only confirms their presence on this planet, it also validates the coordinates transmitted by the archives. We're on the right path. And the fact that it was found near the southern great dunes, close to the cliff, tells us that sector deserves a thorough sweep."

  Kiran, unable to hold his excitement, grinned widely.

  "Incredible! Finally something concrete. Do you think this could lead us straight to ruins—maybe even an Estherian structure?"

  Fedrus, cautious despite his smile:

  "Possibly, Kiran. But let's keep our heads. This fragment is a beginning, not a conclusion. The first piece of a much larger puzzle. We must remain attentive, methodical—and patient."

  While the others talked, Koros listened and plated a second dish for the team. His voice—synthetic, with its familiar faint crackle—rose to offer comfort:

  "You have all done excellent work today. Tonight we celebrate. I have prepared a special dish to give you the energy you will need for tomorrow's research."

  Under Oberon V's star-salted sky, the base was a study in contrasts: the day's bustle giving way to a pool of quiet. The sand, cooled by night, shone silvery under the stars. After hard work and discovery, the team savored a moment of earned rest.

  Adam and Kiran stood at the water, feet sunk in fine sand, sharing impressions and dreams. The oasis's soft light danced on the surface, reflecting in their eyes, casting a calm over their words.

  "It's incredible, isn't it?" Adam murmured, watching the stars ripple in the clear water. "Who'd have thought our first field trip would be to look for Estherian remains?"

  Kiran's eyes sparkled.

  "It feels unreal. And if all the stories about the Estherians are true... imagine what we could find. Tell me, Adam—if this expedition succeeds and opens new avenues into their civilization, what will you do?"

  Adam was quiet a moment, gaze slipping into the star-flecked dark. Then, softly:

  "I think this could change a lot for me. If it works, why not specialize, like Fedrus, in the Estherians? It's a field of mystery—of endless discoveries." He turned. "What about you, Kiran?"

  Kiran smiled at the horizon.

  "Honestly, I haven't thought that far. But I know this: it won't change my first dream. I want to explore unknown worlds, be an adventurer, live epic adventures. And archaeology—strange as it sounds—lets me do that." His voice softened, rare and sincere. "But deep down, what I want most is the story of my people—and our birthplace. We all know Neuror isn't our homeworld. Maybe one day I'll find answers..."

  He turned to Adam with a sure smile, fist tightening with optimism.

  "One thing's certain: you and I—we'll become renowned scientists. I know it."

  Not far away, Zena had finally relaxed after the intense day. Settled into a camp chair, she was absorbed in a gripping detective novel by a famous Hedorian author—complex plots, enigmas within enigmas. The contrast between the book's taut atmosphere and the desert's hush gave her a precious pocket of respite, far from scientific worry.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Koros finished the meal with meticulous care—every motion precise as he adjusted spices for the sliced Corena. The savory aroma rolled through camp, promising comfort after discovery.

  As for Dr. Eamon Fedrus, he was still bent over the Estherian titanium fragment. His focus was absolute, each pass of the analysis brush and each instrument motion practiced and near religious. He scrutinized every line and flaw, convinced the piece might hold a key to the Estherian mystery.

  As the hours slipped by and dinner neared ready, the team drifted to the main table. The day's discovery still excited the air; talk swung between eager speculation and bursts of laughter.

  Kiran and Adam sat side by side, faces warm in the lamplight.

  Kiran, a mischievous smile tugging his mouth, reopened the thread.

  "About that famous pebble. How'd you even spot it? Didn't look like much."

  Adam shrugged, a bit sheepish.

  "Honestly, I don't know. A kind of intuition, I guess. I saw it and thought, 'Huh, that's odd.' Then I picked it up, and the texture was just... different."

  Kiran laughed.

  "Wait—you're telling me you found it by chance? Seriously? A fluke?"

  Adam shook his head gently, amused.

  "Not luck. More like a feeling."

  Kiran, still teasing:

  "Don't tell me it spoke to you."

  Adam's eyes glinted.

  "Who knows—maybe it did."

  He changed tack with a sly look.

  "So—how are things with that girl? Ylveta... Ylvena, right?"

  Kiran rolled his eyes, smiling.

  "Ylvena! That's it. We're supposed to grab a drink on Neuror once we're back. We've been chatting a while—she's great. We've even started talking longer-term."

  Adam nodded, genuinely pleased.

  "Sounds serious. Neuror's perfect for that kind of reunion. Just don't let it distract you during the dig, okay?"

  Kiran laughed.

  "Me? Distracted? Never. But since you're asking—what about you? Anyone in the picture, or is it still a total desert?"

  Adam lifted a modest smile.

  "For now, still me being me. And I haven't set foot on a human world in a while, actually."

  Kiran frowned, intrigued.

  "Really? You didn't go back to Earth during the last inter-annual break?"

  Adam dropped his gaze and toyed with a mug.

  "Truth is—I decided not to. Nothing's really waiting for me there. I figured I'd be better off working, traveling, learning."

  Kiran's tone sobered a notch.

  "Didn't you say you were supposed to see a close friend of your father's?"

  Adam hesitated.

  "Well... yes, but—"

  Before he could finish, Zena closed her book with a mischievous smile and joined them, setting the novel on her chair as she sat near Kiran.

  "So—what's going on here?" she asked, eyes flitting from Kiran to Adam.

  Kiran smirked.

  "Discovering our dear Adam is a die-hard bachelor—too absorbed in research and travel."

  Zena raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

  "Oh, really? That doesn't surprise me. You're absorbed in work, studies... I get it. I'm the same, to be honest. Nothing matters more to us Daranians than our professional future."

  Adam smiled, shaking his head.

  "Yeah. I suppose I'm so invested in what I do that I haven't left much room for anything else. Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing something—but for now, it's enough."

  Zena folded her arms, gaze darkening slightly as she thought it over.

  "Well, everyone finds balance in their own way. For some, relationships; for others, discovery or passion. It's good to ask yourself the question once in a while, isn't it?"

  Kiran nodded, sharing a conspiratorial grin.

  "True. Maybe one day you'll make time to explore other parts of life, Adam. For now, though, you seem in your element—exploring forgotten worlds."

  Zena's smile took on a playful edge.

  "And who knows? Maybe you'll meet someone interesting along the way. Exploration leads to strange places."

  Adam laughed, enjoying the easy tone.

  "Maybe so. For now, I'm just glad to be living this with you all. It's incredible—and I wouldn't change a thing."

  "Alright, youngsters!" Eamon cut in suddenly, his deep voice breaking the relaxed air. He stood with arms folded, mock severity on his face.

  Zena rolled her eyes, smiling.

  "Ah, there you are at last! We've been waiting thirty minutes to eat." She patted her stomach in jest. "We're going to starve!"

  Eamon allowed a grin, then turned to Koros.

  "My friend, serve your culinary masterpiece. I have important things to tell you."

  Koros rose with mechanical precision and carefully set down plates of sliced Corena. The spicy, savory scent sparked appetite at once; murmurs of appreciation hummed as they took their first bites.

  "As usual, Koros—this is a feast," Kiran said with genuine warmth, his tail swishing lightly.

  "Thank you," the android replied, monotone with the faintest hint of pride. "The objective was to maximize gustatory satisfaction while optimizing energy intake for tomorrow."

  As they savored each mouthful, Eamon cleared his throat. Conversation faded; his gaze circled the table, charged with an intensity that drew a hush.

  "Although it's only a fragment, I can already tell you we may have a revolutionary discovery on our hands. My preliminary analyses—which Koros will verify and repeat—suggest we've found something major."

  The Neuronian froze mid-chew, startled.

  "What do you mean?!"

  "You could try a little decorum," Zena whispered, amused.

  "Mmmh, true. You're right. A thousand thanks to the chef—delicious!" Kiran said, finishing his bite with faux contrition.

  The android crackled faintly, then delivered his deadpan:

  "Nothing difficult. Merely the application of a universal flavor equation, adapted to beings of flesh and blood."

  "Enough chatter!" Fedrus said, authority returning. "I'm not finished. I analyzed the artifact methodically. One key question: does it belong to the early or the late Estherian era? That's where it gets interesting. The dating suggests it's one of the most recent Estherian artifacts ever found."

  A palpable silence settled. They hung on his words.

  "We place the emergence of the Estherians somewhere between one million and eight hundred thousand years before the Consortium's founding. Their civilization is thought to have vanished around four hundred thousand years ago—perhaps three hundred fifty thousand—in circumstances still unclear."

  He paused, letting the numbers land.

  "But here, the date doesn't fit. We're closer to three hundred thirty thousand years. Twenty thousand years later than expected. If confirmed, it would be a scientific upheaval—and it would redefine a great many things."

  Zena, Kiran, and Adam exchanged incredulous looks.

  "Moreover, the materials used to make this object differ from what we usually associate with Estherian technology. That suggests an evolution—or a late-stage variation—in their tech."

  Murmurs rippled around the table as the implications took shape. Adjusting his monocle with care, Fedrus concluded, passion vibrating in his voice:

  "If I'm right, we're at the dawn of a grand discovery. This world could reveal how the Estherians disappeared—and why. One thing is certain: this planet was probably among their last colonies."

  A flame of excitement leapt in Kiran's eyes. He couldn't help a broad grin; his fists thumped the table.

  "Incredible! So this world isn't just a ball of sand after all!"

  "Quite," Fedrus said, satisfied, touching his monocle again. "If their end came later than we thought, it could bend the very history of the Orion Arm. Imagine the implications, the debates, the theories it will spark."

  Koros, steady in his synthetic calm, watched the scene without being swept into speculation. To him, exploration and discovery were more than tools for progress—they were gates to deeper understanding of vanished ages. Even so, tonight, for the first time, something unexpected flickered through his internal calculus. Though his body was wholly synthetic, a faint new shiver seemed to pass through his circuits—a sensation he could not explain, a curiosity that felt almost... human.

  The three younger members simmered with energy, impatient to dive back into Oberon V's secrets. Ideas, theories, hypotheses flew; their enthusiasm was contagious, a bright current around the table.

  "We're going to make incredible finds," Kiran said to Adam, eyes alight. "This is only the beginning—and it's going to be grand."

  "Absolutely," Adam answered, smiling wide. "And that piece of titanium we found today... it's just the start."

  Above them, the soft light of two moons drifted across a starry sky. A cool breeze threaded the camp, a welcome counterpoint to the day's heat. It brushed their tired, bright faces and settled a peaceful hush.

  Around 9 pm, Eamon rose; his imposing silhouette cast a reassuring shadow across the sand. He stepped closer, a serene, wise smile in place.

  "Tomorrow will be a great day of discovery and research," he said in a deep, steady voice. "Don't linger too long by the fire. A good night's sleep is a researcher's best ally. We begin again at dawn. Good night to all—and despite the excitement... try to sleep."

  Respecting their mentor's wisdom, they rose one by one and drifted toward their tents. Minds bright with hope, tuned to Oberon V's secrets. Night unrolled slowly, wrapping the base in a soft, soothing dark pricked by stars and washed in the moons' cold light.

  Koros, veteran of many expeditions, lingered by the fire. The flames' dance threw hypnotic shadows across his metal casing. He considered the odd sensation from earlier—something beyond data and theory. Like intuition. A certainty that events were turning on a hidden hinge.

  After a long quiet, he stood and went to the docking station to recharge. Tomorrow would be crucial. He meant to be ready.

  Under the dim, patient stars, the camp fell peacefully asleep. Each team member, settled in their tent, nursed hope and excitement for what awaited them. The mystery of Oberon V kept calling—a mute, insistent voice, rising from ancient sand. They slept at last, dreaming that daylight would reveal the answers they sought.