John's Perspective
I made two laps around the room, my boots echoing off the metallic floor. On the walls, I looked at the various strange symbols and alien technology. I listened in to the various people talking, their voices a mix of excitement, confusion, and apprehension. Most of what they were saying went way over my head, a whirlwind of scientific jargon and theories that might as well have been in another language.
The only thing I really understood was that there was electricity in the walls. That simple fact was oddly reassuring. It meant that we at least understood something.
The eggheads were deep in discussion, their voices rising and falling as they debated and analyzed. It was amusing how they switched from scarred puppies to kids in a candy store. But to me, it was all gibberish. I mentally tuned them out, letting their voices fade into the background as I started my third lap around the room.
I saw the other military guys all bunching up near one of the metallic walls, their faces hidden behind helmets. Something was off, and I could feel it in my gut. I switched to the team channel, my voice cutting into the group as I walked up. "Any news?"
They stepped back, making space for me as I approached, their answers coming in a chorus of uncertainty. "No." "Not Really." "Uh-uh."
I sighed. "Any additional doors other than the one that let us into this kill box?" I asked, my voice tinged with frustration.
Again, the answers were less than reassuring. "Not really." "No." "Maybe."
The last one was different. I glanced at the one who said, "Maybe," my eyebrows raised. "Oh?" I asked, my interest piqued.
He was pointing at the opposite end of the room, his finger tracing an invisible line on the wall. "The electric guy said there seemed to be areas on that wall where the electricity was avoiding. It might be a door. Might be nothing."
I shrugged, the information a hair above useless. "But no doorknob or doorbell, so it doesn't help us. Any opinions on when we should leave?"
The Brit spoke up, his accent thicker through the tension. "We have air for days, food, and water in our inner tanks for less than 24 hours. So we might want to camp here till we can get the rovers from base."
I nodded, taking in the information. It was a logical plan, but it did little to ease the knot in my stomach. Something wasn't right. I couldn't shake the feeling. I looked around the room, my eyes lingering on the scientists as they poked and prodded at the walls. They were in their element, excited and curious, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were playing with fire.
I turned back to the military guys, my voice firm. "Stay alert, keep an eye on everything, and be ready to move at a moment's notice."
"I would appreciate it if you wouldn't do that."
My heart stopped, my stomach dropped, and my skin went wet with cold sweat. The words were clear, articulate, and filled with an authority that sent a chill down my spine. But it wasn't the words themselves that terrified me; it was where they came from.
The sound didn't come through the radios. It came from the room. From the middle of the room. Through the air.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my mind racing. I spun to look at the middle of the room, my eyes widening as I took in the sight.
The statue wasn't in the position it had been for the past few hours. It had moved. Its "hand" had shifted to its sword, its neck was craning, and its face was moving towards the guy who had fallen in the crater earlier. I think his name was Niles? Miles? I'll keep calling him Egghead.
