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The Conqueror was incredibly lucky, managing to reach the Norwegian research station just before the blizzard fully unleashed its fury.
By now, the storm was so intense that it rattled the Conqueror's windows with a relentless clatter.
"Mr. Weyland, we need to find a sheltered spot to hide the vehicle. The Conqueror's massive size makes it vulnerable in this storm!" one of the drivers warned.
The Conqueror's bulk was an advantage in some cases, but in moments like this, it became a liability.
Charles, who'd had his fill of rest and emerged from his quarters, nodded. "Find a wind-blocking snow slope and park the vehicle there."
Fortunately, there was a decent-sized snow slope near the Norwegian station that could shield them from the wind. The Conqueror was parked, and the blizzard hit full force.
It was already pitch black outside, and with the storm's blinding snow, visibility was practically zero.
Still, some tasks had to be completed.
The two smaller snow expedition vehicles were parked in front and behind the Conqueror, secured with anti-slip measures.
After that, everyone piled into the Conqueror to ride out the storm.
This period was grueling. The howling wind and snow outside sounded like the wail of a banshee, making those unaccustomed to such extreme environments nervous.
The folks from the Aurora Station, however, were unfazed. They were used to this kind of weather and even had the leisure to gather and play cards.
With over 40 people crammed into the Conqueror, even its double-decker structure felt impossibly crowded.
But there was a silver lining to the packed conditions: the interior was warm and lively.
The blizzard raged until 3 a.m. before finally subsiding. By then, many people, including Charles, had succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep.
Charles, no spring chicken, handed over command of the Conqueror to Roy.
"Drivers, check the condition of all three vehicles. Mercenaries, you're with me—we're heading into the Norwegian station," Roy ordered.
The drivers Charles hired were skilled mechanics, as the team was already large enough without adding dedicated repairmen.
After inspection, the drivers confirmed the Conqueror was in perfect condition. Charles's investment had paid off.
One of the smaller snow vehicles, however, had a minor issue, and the driver immediately set to work fixing it.
Meanwhile, Roy led the Blackwater mercenaries into the Norwegian station.
"Listen up. Your job is to guard the perimeter. If anything comes out that isn't me, take it down. Understood?"
The mercenary captain nodded. "Did you bring thermal imaging?"
"We did."
Charles had hired Blackwater's top-tier mercenaries, equipped with the best gear: C4, incendiary grenades, thermal imaging, grenade launchers—the works. They were ready for a small war.
"I suspect those parasitic creatures will show up clearly on thermal imaging, and this environment is perfect for using it. Watch my back, got it?"
"Roger that!"
The mercenary captain was starting to admire Roy. Typically, when mercenaries were hired, they were the ones sent into danger. But Roy was leading the charge himself, leaving the mercenaries in a safer position.
This kind of boss was a rare find.
Unaware of the captain's thoughts, Roy began searching the Norwegian station.
The place was deserted. All Roy found were signs of a fierce battle—bullet marks on the walls and traces of fire.
Clearly, the parasitic monsters had been here, but the Norwegians had fought them off, which explained why they'd chased a parasitized Alaskan dog in a helicopter.
Talk about bad luck. If that helicopter hadn't crashed, the incident at Aurora Station might never have happened.
Soon, Roy discovered a cryopod in the station's basement.
The sudden appearance of the cryopod caught his attention. It definitely wasn't something the Norwegians had built for themselves. So where did it come from?
The station was a ghost town—no survivors, not even bodies. Roy searched the area and, luckily, found a voice log detailing the Norwegians' discovery of the cryopod.
About three days ago, the Norwegians had found an unidentified flying object frozen in the ice. When they opened it, they discovered a strange cryopod containing an alien. They brought the cryopod back to the station.
But when they opened it, the alien inside came back to life and started killing…
The voice log cut off there, likely because the person recording it was dead.
The log included coordinates for the UFO, about a half-hour's drive from the Norwegian station.
With nothing left to find, Roy took the voice log and headed outside.
The Blackwater mercenaries waiting outside nearly opened fire on him, clearly on edge.
"Hey! Friendly!" Roy called out.
Once they confirmed it was Roy, they lowered their weapons.
"Mr. Black, any findings?" the captain asked.
"I've got something big, but I need to discuss it with Charles first."
Roy woke Charles, who was groggy at first but snapped to attention when Roy mentioned the UFO.
"A UFO? Aliens? Is this for real?" Charles asked, wide-eyed.
Roy nodded. "The Norwegians wouldn't fake a voice log. It's likely true. If we head to the coordinates in the log, we'll find out."
Charles paced the room excitedly, barely able to contain himself. He hadn't expected his dream to come true so quickly.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go now!"
Roy, seeing Charles's enthusiasm, threw a bucket of cold water on it. "Charles, even if we find a UFO, you might not be able to go public with it. Think about the FEA and Area 51."
Area 51, a military base in southern Nevada, was rumored to be a hub for studying extraterrestrial life.
Roy had once asked Gerald about it, and Gerald confirmed the rumors were true.
If they found a UFO, Area 51 would likely take over, and even the FEA might not get a say.
Of course, as the discoverer, Charles would probably get some compensation from Area 51, given his status. But that wasn't what Charles wanted—he craved fame.
"Damn it! Why does it have to be like this?" Charles muttered, frustrated.
After some thought, he decided they had to check out the UFO. Even if he couldn't publicize it, he wanted photos. If Area 51 ever declassified the find, he'd go down in history as the first discoverer.
"Forget it. Let's head to the UFO site. I can't wait any longer!"
The faulty snow vehicle was repaired, so the expedition team set off toward the coordinates in the voice log.
By 4 a.m., the Antarctic sun was rising, making travel easier. The half-hour drive mentioned in the log was based on daytime conditions—navigating in the dark would've taken longer.
Around 4:30 a.m., the team reached the coordinates. There, in a small ravine, was a massive flying saucer, larger than a Boeing 747, frozen in the ice.
It had been there for who-knows-how-long, completely encased except for a passage drilled out, likely by the Norwegians.
"It's really a flying saucer!" everyone exclaimed, stunned, including Roy.
Though Roy had encountered what seemed like extraterrestrial beings—like the Slender Man and the Color Out of Space—this was his first time seeing an alien spacecraft.
Staring at the saucer, a thought struck Roy.
The parasitic creatures didn't have a fixed form, clearly evolving along a biological path. Such shapeless beings didn't seem capable of developing advanced technology like a flying saucer.
This craft likely belonged to another alien species, probably infected by the parasites on some distant planet.
During their space journey, a biohazard outbreak caused the saucer to lose control.
Countless years ago, it crashed in Antarctica.
The cryopod the Norwegians found was likely part of the aliens' cryosleep system. When the Norwegians opened it, they unleashed the horror inside.
But there was a problem: a ship this big wouldn't carry just one alien, would it?
Roy decided to investigate the passage the Norwegians had drilled.
Meanwhile, the others were outside, snapping photos by the saucer.
Even the Blackwater mercenaries couldn't resist the temptation, taking off their tactical helmets to pose for pictures.
Even if they couldn't share the photos, they'd have bragging rights for life.
Roy took a photo with Heather and Penny, then told Charles he wanted to explore the saucer's interior.
"Charles, I'm going inside to take a look."
"Inside the saucer? Isn't that dangerous?"
"The Norwegians already went in and brought out a cryopod, so it's probably fine. But to be safe, I'll go alone."
Charles had complete faith in Roy's abilities and nodded. "Roy, can you record what you see inside? I'm dying to know what it looks like!"
"Got a recorder? I'll wear it."
Roy strapped on a head-mounted recorder and entered the saucer through the Norwegians' passage.
The interior had a vacuum-tube punk aesthetic, like something out of Alien.
Think bulky, analog tech—no liquid crystal displays, just clunky electronics that shaped a distinct tech tree.
It reminded Roy of the Fallout series' retro-futuristic style.
He searched cautiously, finding what seemed like alien artifacts but nothing significant.
The alien writing was indecipherable, and the equipment was beyond his understanding.
Luckily, Roy's strength came in handy. Using brute force, he pried open a few doors and reached what looked like the cockpit.
Suddenly, the room's emergency lights flicked on, startling Roy. He thought he'd triggered a trap.
Then he realized his rough entry had activated the saucer's emergency power, triggering a pre-set program.
A holographic recording began playing in the cockpit.
An alien resembling a praying mantis appeared, speaking in a harsh, insect-like buzz that Roy couldn't understand.
Thankfully, there were visuals. Through context and guesswork, Roy pieced together the story.
These mantis-like aliens were from a civilization just entering the space age. During their exploration, they encountered the parasitic creatures and brought them back to their homeworld.
Underestimating the parasites' contamination potential, they triggered a biohazard crisis on their planet.
The mantis aliens fled their ruined homeworld, and this saucer was essentially a refugee ship.
But some parasites had infiltrated the craft, and the same catastrophe that destroyed their planet unfolded onboard.
The aliens isolated the infected in the cargo hold and put themselves into cryosleep, hoping for rescue.
The alien in the cryopod didn't realize it was infected. The parasites hadn't taken over because they were sensitive to cold.
The aliens' advanced technology hadn't saved them, likely because their homeworld was much warmer than Earth—perhaps ten degrees hotter on average.
A tropical climate would be paradise for the parasites.
"Looks like I need to check the cargo hold and deal with whatever's in there," Roy muttered.
He wasn't one to leave loose ends.
Following the saucer's wall-mounted schematics, Roy stepped outside to brief the others.
Everyone was floored by his account.
A civilization more advanced than Earth's, wiped out by these parasites?
"Roy, you were so right to take this seriously!" Charles said, a chill running through him. "If we don't stop these parasites, Earth could end up like that alien world!"
"Exactly. That's why I'm going to the cargo hold to destroy whatever's isolated there. Stay back to avoid any risk."
"You sure you can handle it alone?" the mercenary captain asked, concerned despite knowing Roy's combat prowess.
"I'll be fine. Same drill: if anything comes out that isn't me, take it down."
"Roger that!"
(No image to share, so here's one of The Thing prequel's protagonist, Mary Elizabeth Winstead.)