The long, hard trek back to the shuttlepod felt even longer and harder than their journey outwards had been. Archer wondered how much of this sensation was due to exhaustion or possibly the results of exposure to unknown radiation. He wondered several times if they were going in the right direction, but each time he asked aloud, Reed would point out a footprint, or a broken branch, or a slightly flattened area of moss, which showed the evidence of their journey towards the beacon that had summoned them to this alien landscape. Archer lost all concept of time; even his wristwatch was no longer working. After a long time, an ice-age perhaps, Reed suddenly stumbled and fell, sprawling awkwardly onto the muddy ground. Archer said nothing; both of them had similarly fallen several times already on the unstable, treacherous ground. He was just helping the tactical officer to stand when he noticed the pallor of Reed's face, and the way his breathing was ragged and uneven.

"Are you alright, Malcolm?"

"Fine, sir," came the predictable answer.

Archer did not press this issue, doubting that he looked much better. He felt drained and exhausted, but certainly not sick or weak as he might have expected from radiation poisoning. He took a deep breath, and glanced around. He had no idea where they were in relation to the shuttlepod.

"Do you think we've got far to go?" he asked, deliberately keeping his tone light.

"Not too far, sir, we're almost there by my reckoning..." Reed trailed off, frowning, squinting at something over Archer's shoulder.

The Captain turned, peering behind him into the misty, windswept tableau.

"What is it?" he asked, guardedly.

"I'm not sure, sir," Reed admitted, "I thought I saw movement... there!"

He pointed, and this time, Archer saw it as well; a distinctive shift in the mist, against the ebb and flow of the wind, as if caused by the passage of something – or someone.

"Hello?" Archer called out, uncertainly, taking a hesitant step towards the movement.

He was vaguely aware of Reed at his elbow, peering into the mists and effort to see what might be out there. Archer called out again; "Hello? Is anyone there? We don't mean you any harm..."

The mists shifted again, closer this time, and for one moment, Archer thought he saw a white, bird-like face staring at him, like the skull at the site of the column. As quickly as he thought he'd seen it, it was gone again, snatched away into the swirling mists, and he wondered if his mind was starting to play tricks on him. He turned to speak to Reed, to continue their slog back to the shuttle, but the words died on his lips at the sight of his tactical officer. Reed was standing stock-still, as if frozen to the spot. His eyes were wide, as if in terror, his face almost sheet white.

"Malcolm?" Archer said, uncertainly, "Malcolm, what is it?"

"Cap...captain..." Reed sounded breathless, as if he were fighting for air, drowning in the thick fog, "I... can't... I can't... move..."

Archer reached out to grasp Reed's arms and was shocked to find that the younger man was as taut as a coiled spring; every muscle was tight beneath his uniform, as if he were straining to move against an invisible force that held him in place. Reed let out an audible gasp and Archer swung around. There, before him, stood what he could only describe as an apparition. The figure was over seven feet tall with a hawk-like face, large, staring eyes and a feathery appearance. However, it seemed to be made only of mist – Archer could see the trees through its shadowy facade.

"Hello," Archer began, a little uncertainly, "my name is Captain Archer, of the Starship Enterprise. We are peaceful explorers. We picked up a transmission from this planet and we came to investigate; to offer assistance if needed... can you understand me?"

The apparition paid him no attention. It reached out a hand; Archer observed its limbs were thin and scaly, with three extremely slender, clawed fingers and an opposable thumb. It drifted forward without apparently walking, its gaze fixated on Reed. Archer tried to impose himself between the creature and the lieutenant, but the thing waved a hand and Archer suddenly found that he, too, could no longer move. He could only watch helplessly as the creature reached out to touch Reed's face.

Malcolm visibly shivered, as if the touch were icy cold, and then gasped aloud as the talon, as transparent as the mist, drew a line down his cheek, just below his left eye. Archer tried to shout a protest as he saw the dark red line left behind by the talon, blood slowly trickling down the lieutenant's face. The creature paid this no heed, continuing its examination of the other man, completely ignoring Archer. The captain tried to speak again, but he was so immobilised he could not make a sound. The apparition took a slight movement back, sparing Archer but a cursory glance, before turning its full focus back to Reed. In one sudden, fluid motion, it lashed out with both hands. One hand struck Reed in the face, the other in the chest, but they were no longer solid; to Archer's view, the creatures limbs entered into the lieutenant and then withdrew as the creature apparently dissolved, dissipating into the mist.

In the exact moment that the creature disappeared, Archer was released. He lunged forward as Reed made a strangled choking noise and collapsed, crumpling to the ground like a puppet with the strings cut. Archer was beside him in a moment, rolling him onto his back, frantically checking for a pulse.

"Malcolm! Malcolm, can you hear me?"

Reed's face was sheet white, the cut below his eye a dark contrast to his pallor, and the only real indication that the apparition had ever really existed. Archer felt his own heart stop for a moment; his numb fingers were grasping at Reed's neck, searching frantically for a pulse where there was none to be found. The lieutenant wasn't breathing.