Project Eden

Chapter 1: The Dome Above Us

Dr. Evelyn Carter stood at the edge of the observation deck, looking up at the artificial sky. The dome stretched above them, a massive curve of glass and steel, tinted slightly blue to mimic the Earth’s atmosphere. Beyond it, thick clouds were projected onto the screen, giving the illusion of a cloudy morning. Inside, the temperature remained a comfortable 22 degrees Celsius. It always did.

Three and a half years. That’s how long they had lived inside this dome—The Europa Colony Biosphere. A sealed world. A test for humanity’s future. The mission had begun with excitement and hope. The volunteers had been selected from every corner of the globe, each bringing expertise and passion. But time had a way of wearing down even the strongest resolve.

She checked her tablet. The daily system diagnostics were normal: oxygen levels, hydroponics, food supplies, waste management, and all other essentials were running at optimal efficiency. It was a miracle of human engineering. Still, Evelyn often wondered if it was a miracle… or a cage.

From the elevator, footsteps echoed behind her. “You’re up early,” said Captain Liam Torres, his voice warm but slightly raspy. “Again.”

“I like the mornings,” Evelyn replied without turning around. “They feel almost real.”

Liam stood beside her and followed her gaze upward. “You miss the real sky?”

“Every day.”

A silence passed between them—one that used to be filled with words. They had once been close. Before the mission. Before the biosphere. Before duty swallowed emotion.

“You ready for the briefing?” he asked.

Evelyn gave a small nod. “Let’s go see what Century Intelligence wants from us today.”

The command center was in the middle of the biosphere, surrounded by workstations and a giant circular table. Eight team leads gathered there each morning for the video call with CI—Century Intelligence, the private space research company funding the entire experiment. The CI team always appeared on the large monitor at exactly 08:00 sharp. Scientists, engineers, nutritionists, analysts—they guided the mission from outside, offering real-time support and observation.

The center buzzed with quiet anticipation each day. For many, these briefings were the only connection to the outside world. It was comforting to see familiar faces—even through a screen.

Evelyn tapped her earpiece. “All teams in?”

“Communications online,” said Mia Vasquez, already seated at her station. She adjusted her glasses and brushed a lock of black hair behind her ear. “Signal from CI is coming in… now.”

But the screen stayed black.

Everyone stared in silence.

“No feed?” Evelyn asked.

“No feed,” Mia replied, frowning.

“That’s strange,” said Dr. Anaya Patel, the team’s lead biologist. “They’ve never missed a day.”

“Could be a network issue,” said Omar Reed, the head engineer. He was already opening up his terminal. “Give me a few minutes.”

They waited. Liam crossed his arms. Evelyn paced behind him. Omar’s fingers danced across the keyboard, pulling up diagnostics.

“System check says it’s not us,” Omar said. “Our uplink is clean. Data flow out is working. The issue is on their side.”

A quiet tension filled the room.

“Let’s keep going,” Evelyn said. “We have enough to review without them.”

They went through their reports as usual: food production was stable, air quality was perfect, water recycling was at 96% efficiency. Minor issues in Hydro Bay 2 had been fixed. The robotic greenhouse units had performed a self-cleaning cycle. One of the AI companion bots needed recalibration.

Still, the silence on the monitor hovered over the meeting like a shadow.

That night, Evelyn lay in her small quarters, staring at the ceiling. Unlike the dome’s projected sky, this one was plain and metal. Functional. Cold.

She tried reading. It didn’t help. Her mind kept spinning. No CI team. No update. No reason.

She scrolled through old CI briefings, comparing timestamps, looking for anything unusual. Nothing. Her thoughts drifted to her family—her sister, her nephew, her mother. Were they safe? Had something happened in the outside world?

The silence felt louder in the biosphere. Even the hum of machinery seemed muted. She walked through the halls, passing dim lights and closed doors. Behind one, she heard someone crying. Behind another, a soft voice reading aloud, probably to a child. Life went on inside the dome, but unease spread like invisible gas.

On day two, a subtle shift took place. The volunteers were no longer casually discussing their projects. People whispered in corners. Meals became quieter. The children, always the first to sense change, clung closer to their parents.

The next morning, they gathered again.

Still no signal.

Day three. Same result.

Mia checked and re-checked the connection, but nothing changed.

“Could be a blackout,” Omar offered. “But three days without backup communication? They have redundancies.”

“Maybe they’re testing us,” Liam said, though his tone wasn’t confident. “Seeing how we react without supervision.”

“That's cruel, even for CI,” Evelyn replied. “They would’ve told us first.”

Day four passed with mounting concern. Some members of the community grew anxious. People whispered about accidents, corporate collapse, even war. Others believed this was simply another test—a psychological evaluation.

Arguments began to erupt over dinner. A few volunteers demanded access to restricted systems. Evelyn had to remind them that panic would only make things worse. Children started asking questions their parents couldn’t answer. Tension pressed against the walls of the dome like pressure building in a sealed tank.

Leo Kim, the youngest in the colony, quietly started building a signal amplifier in the tech lab. “Just in case,” he said. His intelligence had always been beyond his years, and now it was clear his instincts were too. Evelyn found herself watching him more closely—not just as a technician, but as someone whose perspective might offer answers.

Some residents began keeping journals, recording their thoughts in case something truly historic—or tragic—was unfolding. A few people began training others in emergency skills. Survival workshops became popular overnight. Evelyn approved of the initiative, but it also deepened her concern.

Day five. Still no contact.

It was Liam who finally said what everyone was thinking.

“We need to go outside.”

Evelyn stood before the main airlock, dressed in a lightweight exo-suit. It wasn’t a full space suit—Earth’s environment was still safe—but they didn’t know what they would find. She looked at the group gathered around her.

Liam. Mia. Omar. Sasha Morozov, their young security tech. Anaya. Dr. Zhang, their AI specialist. Jonas Blake, their botanist. And Leo Kim, the 15-year-old programming genius.

“Are we ready?” she asked.

Everyone nodded.

Mia hesitated. “If we open that door… we break the seal. The experiment is officially over.”

Evelyn took a deep breath. “The experiment ended when CI stopped answering.”

She pressed her hand to the scanner. The door hissed.

For the first time in 1,287 days… the team stepped outside.

The CI facility was just 600 meters from the dome. They followed the path—overgrown with tall grass and weeds. That was strange. Lawn maintenance was supposed to be automated. A sign had fallen sideways, covered in dirt. The welcome center's windows were fogged with grime.

Birds chirped in the distance. The wind blew gently through the leaves. It was too normal. Unnaturally calm.

Mia kept checking her handheld scanner. “No radiation. No chemical agents. Air quality’s normal.”

The facility doors slid open on backup power. Inside, the air smelled of dust and silence.

“Lights,” Liam said.

Omar tapped the control panel. The ceiling panels flickered on.

Desks were empty. Coffee mugs still sat on them. Chairs were slightly pushed out, as if people had left in the middle of a task. Screens blinked quietly. The CI logo glowed in the lobby.

They walked deeper in.

“Where is everyone?” Mia whispered.

They searched the communications lab. The cafeteria. The server room. All empty.

Leo checked the security cameras. “Last recorded footage is five days ago. Then… nothing. Just blank.”

“Did they leave?” Sasha asked. “Evacuated?”

“Why would they?” Dr. Zhang muttered. “There was no emergency.”

“Not one,” Evelyn said softly, “that we were told about.”

They explored further. In the medical bay, drawers were open. Someone had taken supplies—but in a hurry. Not in panic, but not calmly either. It looked like an organized evacuation… with no destination.

In the data center, Omar connected to the main servers. He scanned through logs, searching for signs of recent access.

“Someone accessed high-security files,” he said. “But the records were wiped right after. That’s not normal protocol.”

Evelyn frowned. “Can you recover anything?”

“I can try.”

As the others searched, Evelyn wandered into a side office. A photo sat on the desk—a man and his two daughters. One of them wore a CI badge around her neck. Evelyn picked it up, stared at it, then gently placed it back. Whoever they were, they had been here. They had lives. And now—nothing.

She opened a drawer and found a handwritten note: “If anyone finds this—get to Vault C.” The ink was smudged, the paper torn at the edges.

Vault C.

She pocketed the note and returned to the group, her mind racing.

They spent the night in the facility’s dorm wing. It was eerie, but safer than walking back in the dark. They took turns keeping watch, each hour filled with whispering thoughts and nervous footsteps. In her room, Evelyn couldn’t sleep. She sat by the window, watching shadows shift in the moonlight.

She wasn’t just thinking about what they had found. She was thinking about what came next. About Vault C. About what she would say to the others. About how to lead when the world outside no longer made sense.

Down the hall, she could hear Jonas quietly tuning his guitar, a rare comfort. Somewhere further, Sasha and Mia exchanged whispers—low, tense. Evelyn wondered how everyone would hold up if the days ahead proved worse than the mystery behind them.

At dawn, Evelyn stood at the window.

The sun rose over an empty world.