The silence was so thick it became tangible, like a dense fog enveloping every inch of this unknown land. Major Tom’s vessel, a steel shell torn apart by the whims of the cosmos, lay half-buried in violet soil, streaked with luminous veins that seemed to breathe in unison with distant stars. The onboard systems, once so reliable, now emitted only a dying hiss, a final electronic breath before oblivion.
 
Tom opened his eyes. The light was strange here, tinged with an electric blue that danced with the shadows, as if the sky itself were an ocean stirred by invisible winds. He sat up, feeling beneath his fingers the strange texture of the ground: neither sand nor rock, but something alive, warm, pulsing faintly. Around him, mineral formations rose in perfect spirals, crystal towers that seemed to sing an inaudible melody, a vibration that resonated in his bones.
 
There was no sun, no moon, only that diffuse, eternal glow bathing the landscape in spectral clarity. Not a breath of wind, not the cry of an animal, nothing but silence and the strange feeling of being watched. Tom moved forward, his boots crushing translucent vegetation that closed behind him, as if the planet itself were erasing his footsteps.
 
In the distance, a figure took shape. Not human, not quite alive. An entity made of light and mist, a shifting form that seemed woven from the same luminous filaments that ran through the ground. It did not speak, but Tom heard a voice in his mind, a voice that was not a sound, but an emotion, a certainty: « You have arrived. At last. »
 
He tried to answer, but his voice was lost in the thick air. The figure approached, and Tom understood he would never see Earth again. He was no longer a lost astronaut in space. He had become a legend, the first man to set foot on a world not made for his kind. And as the entity reached out a hand made of stars, he smiled. Perhaps this was not an end, but a beginning.