A crimson sunset bled across the Martian horizon, painting the rusted hulks of abandoned rovers in shades of forgotten ambition. The wind, a constant lament across the desolate landscape, whipped tendrils of crimson dust around Elara Vance's ankles. She stood on the precipice of Valles Marineris, the grand canyon of Mars, its depths swallowing the fading sunlight whole. Below, where shadows clawed at the last vestiges of day, whispered stories of ancient oceans and the ghosts of a planet's lost potential.