LOG ENTRY — Sol 2,100. Ship: ISV Genesis. Mission: Proxima Centauri Colony Ship.
We arrived. 2,000 colonists in cryosleep, 50 crew awake for the journey. 12 years of travel. The ship held. The people held. We’re here.
Proxima Centauri b looks like Earth’s cousin. Oceans, continents, an atmosphere with oxygen. The models were right. It’s habitable.
But it’s not empty.
We found structures. Not ruins — active structures. Buildings that maintain themselves, roads that repair their own cracks, lights that turn on at dusk. No people. No organisms above bacterial level. But the infrastructure is pristine.
The structures are designed for beings roughly our size. Doors at human height. Stairs with human-sized steps. Either this was built by humans (impossible, we’re the first), or by something that looks like us.
We’re setting up the colony 50 km from the nearest structure. We don’t touch the buildings. We don’t enter them. We don’t know who built them or where they went.
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