A cold silence radiates from the cosmos, messages sent but never read, forever travelling the desolate wastes of space. Their creations: words, pictures, sound, all travelling the unfathomably great expanse, a vastness so incomprehensibly large, filled with things they could never imagine.

Something would get their message, and then more and more, all at once. Their desperate attempts to communicate with anything getting more feeble and frenzied before vanishing. All but a short blip, on a galactic scale. Attempts to decode all this information were made - an astronomical archaeological endeavour.

Earth-beings, they were eventually named, in a speech that they would never be able to understand. They had to be found, as they weren’t the first galactic blip that was ever captured. Blasts of white noise in the hundreds, all leading to wastelands - examples of what not to do, and they were different every time. This something wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to become one of them, chronicling every civilizational failure.

Maps of the stars pinpointed the noise, all that was needed was to start the expedition.

…

‘Earth’ as they called it, was discovered. Thick layers of reflective debris scattered the outside, moving at speeds too dangerous to encounter, between the cracks unveiled a pitch-black planet, blankets of dark ash and gas strewn across its atmosphere. Each gap in the metal outer remains told a story of an urgent escape, and those left on the surface must have perished to the toxicity of the planet they once called their home. Scans of the planet showed no life.

Another planet was mentioned; ‘Mars’ it was named, apparently a suitable replacement for Earth and its shortcomings. Mars was different - cursory scans showed signs of life, it had large blue bodies of water, structures were strewn across its crimson surface and there was a thick atmosphere keeping essential gases inside. It was deemed safe to investigate.

The planet was loud. The sharp gusts of wind caused distant waves to crash against the orange beaches. Large clouds of toxic dust slithered above the cold dry soil, forming vortexes and dissipating. While the Earth-beings had done their best, they had not made the surface completely habitable. Large metal rigs scattered everywhere that wasn’t ocean, extracting Mars’ resources from under the ground. The unforgivable terrain, covered in chalky sharp rocks and mesas, meant that the inhabitants of Mars built their homes on and underneath the planet’s seas.

Strewn across the surface of the waters were smooth grey concrete boxes, grand buildings with simple angular designs fitted with thick glass, and with extensive connections to one another. These buildings permeated deep into the depths of the ocean for hundreds of meters indicating a familiarity and coexistence with the abyss.

Inside these brutalist structures were royally lavish rooms, striking themes of dark red, blue, and green plastered the carpeted floors and furniture, with gold trims against every surface. Extravagant rectangular boxy chandeliers lined each corridor and seating area while the light from the star glistened up against the surface of the water and into the interior. It was a luxury for the people that lived here. All the rooms lit by the star were carefully crafted for comfort; there were spacious suites with red plush furnishings, polished rich wood panelling decorated with tapestries and artwork, and large wardrobes and tables for dining and socializing.

Despite all the evidence of life being here, the corridors were empty. Other than the fizz of the waves hitting the buildings, the place was profoundly lonely and quiet. Things were left behind in a hurry. Dry plants were left behind with nobody to water them. Wardrobes and doors were left open, and belongings were scattered. Regardless, the life sensors still beeped.

On closer inspection of the corridors, the carpets had deep scratches, blood blended into the red carpets alongside stippled muddy prints, and cracks were in the glass windows. Down the stairs, under the ocean’s surface, it got darker as the star’s light struggled to penetrate the windows. The lavishness slowly disappeared the deeper into the depths the buildings went, as the environment started to get more utilitarian and prison-like. The crashes of the waves started to dampen and replaced themselves with creaks and metallic groans. The dark murky water loomed ominously on the other side of the glass, occasional cracks holding on for dear life against the pressure of the water. Occasionally the life sensor would beep faster, indicating that something was close, only for it to stop seconds after, despite all rooms being completely empty. Any attempts to get deeper into the building’s depths were met with water flooding the stairwells.

Some corridors had barricades, built from chairs, metal boxes, anything they could find. Smashed vases and debris littered the floor, holes pierced the walls. Dry splatters of blood were easy to see on the white simplistic interiors of the lower sections, there was a lot of activity there. Amongst the mess was a device, hastily dropped in the midst of the chaos. It wasn’t the first one found, but it was the only one that might have seen some action.

Inspecting the device revealed it to be some sort of cassette machine, using magnetic tape that could play audio and project a video. Next to it was the cassette that had forcibly fallen out when it was dropped. These were audio-visual logs, where any Martian could vent their thoughts like a diary, or to communicate with one another. With great curiosity, the cassette was placed into the device, and suddenly it whirred to life, humming as it re-winded the tape to the beginning. This was the start to uncovering the mysteries of this place, all that had to be done was to press play.