Our second week on Strava was even more fascinating. After we got used to the surroundings and got a good idea of the atoll’s layout around Noagh, we ventured farther to the south and west, where more islands awaited.

We had tremendous amounts of fun together and on our own. I’d even begun spending the early evenings alone, walking through the jungle behind the resort. I left Sofia with Vivienne and the others in the kitchen, as they prepared a scrumptious dinner feast. After my walk, I would return to a table worthy of praise, as Sofia had discovered some local spices that added real kick to the blood. On top of that, Lucas had come across a very special fruit that took forever to peel but, once washed and sliced, tasted like heaven, according to him, Corrine, Kailyn, and Ibrahim.

After Sofia and I had agreed to expand our family once we got back to The Shade, I found that I needed the one or two hours alone, just to think about what it all entailed, and how it would affect our lives going forward.

As I went deeper into the jungle behind the resort, I found the pros to significantly outweigh the cons of having another child. Of course, I’d known that from the moment I’d said yes to Sofia, but, still, it felt somewhat reassuring to go back and consider the issue over and over. The conclusion was the same every time. I looked forward to another kid in our treehouse, and I was confident that both Ben and Rose would welcome a little brother or sister.

Harper, Serena, Phoenix, Vita, and Caia were definitely going to be over the moon about this. Serena had, in fact, previously hinted at Sofia and me that we should consider having more kids—subtle drops during dinner conversations, the kind that we never addressed in front of them, but carried with us to sleep, nonetheless. I took a deep breath, smiling at the thought that we’d decided to do this. It felt great.

I was more than two miles away from the resort, on the northeastern side of the island, when I spotted a creature I’d never seen before. I stilled, then hid behind a tree and kept quiet, just so I could get a better look.

It was a monkey of sorts, with long limbs and a thick coat of fur—a dazzling array of pinks, yellows, and lime greens displayed in horizontal, uneven stripes, as if it had been repeatedly dipped in different buckets of fluorescent paint. It was half my height and slender, remarkably light and agile as it circled a tall tree. Fruits hung high in clusters, on branches too thin for the monkey to reach on its own.

Its big green eyes looked around, then settled on some rocks big enough to fit in its long-fingered hands. The creature grabbed one stone, sniffed it, then threw it upward, aiming for a fruit cluster. The projectile missed its mark by inches, prompting the monkey to groan and try again.

After five more attempts, it managed to dislodge an entire cluster. The fruits, shaped and colored like peaches, fell and scattered on the leafy ground. The monkey rushed around to collect them, then looked around again, as if making sure no one was watching it. I held my breath for a second, fascinated and amused by its intelligent behavior. Lucas was right: Harper had definitely neglected some of the animals on Strava when she’d said there was no sign of intelligent life on this planet.

I followed it deeper into the jungle, keeping my distance so as not to spook the creature. As I glanced around me and noticed the tree layout and density, as well as the ground elevation, I realized we’d yet to explore this part of Noagh. There were no familiar scents, either, which reinforced my conviction that this was my first time in this area.

It was secluded and dark, the tree crowns completely obscuring the evening sky. Insects chirped all around me. Various reptiles rattled and hissed, but none were brave enough to get closer. Even the larger predators stayed away, though I wasn’t sure whether it was because of me or something else, something potentially more dangerous lurking in these parts of the jungle.

I didn’t spot anything alarming, so I stayed focused on the monkey. It carried its fruity stash to the top of a massive rock and—I came to a sudden halt. The creature vanished somewhere ahead, but the big, black hole in the rock caught my full attention. It was a cave.

Careful not to make any noise and stir the local fauna, I made my way through the woods and reached the cave entrance. Cool darkness oozed out of it in a quiet way that sent shivers down my spine. I briefly glanced over my shoulder, purely out of reflex, then went inside.

The temperature dropped substantially, to the point where my body needed a few seconds’ worth of goosebumps to readjust. It was pitch black, but my vampire vision helped me make sense of my surroundings. I walked through the narrow corridor, going farther inside the cave. It looked smaller from the outside, but, as I reached the end of the passageway and noticed the multiple openings and tunnels leading in different directions, I realized this was an entire network of grottos.

They were all interconnected. I noticed the descent, too. I was deep underground at this point. Taking a deep breath, I started exploring the smaller grottos. Their walls were black and slick with moisture. Crystal formations hung from the ceiling at sharp angles, in bright shades of blue and green. The ground was covered in soft moss.

A dim glow caught my eye as I turned right into another grotto. There were what looked like cables mounted on the tunnel wall, leading into the chamber. They were about three to five inches thick, glowing blue. They seemed to go on through multiple caves, so I followed them through several spaces until I found a larger, round grotto that took my breath away.

First and foremost, it was perfectly round, like a smooth globe. Second, its ground was covered with metallic pods big enough to fit any creature up to ten feet tall.

I stared at them for a while, then noticed the glowing blue cables spreading out and connecting through each pod. This place was quite big, the domed ceiling reaching a height of fifty feet. I walked between the pods, trying to make some sense of their purpose.

Everything was so quiet, all I could hear were my own footsteps.

Each metallic pod was simple and shaped like an egg. There was nothing across their surface to indicate that they could be opened in any way. I could see my reflection, though, clear as day. The only disruption on the pods’ flawless outer layer was the slot in which the glowing blue cable went.

I looked around again and counted.

There were about three hundred pods in this chamber, but the cables went out to adjacent grottos. Chances were, I’d find more of these capsules if I kept following the cables.

The one thing I knew for sure was that these pods were not of natural origin.

They’d been put down here by someone. Those cables served a purpose.

Most importantly, they all looked clean and carefully crafted—certainly not the work of wild animals.

Was there someone still here?

Or were these pods just remnants of a civilization long gone?

My heart skipped a beat as I examined both possibilities. Each scenario piqued my interest in a different manner, but my conclusion was the same either way: I had to show this place to the others. They had to see this.