The man stood, though his legs felt as though they were jello beneath him as he stepped out of the ship onto the ground. It was not fear that had him in such a state, but rather a stiffness and lingering effect of the cryosleep, or at least that's what the man had told himself. His arms were shaking as though he was coming from the aftershocks of a withdrawal of something, though he knew there had been nothing in his body before taking off. He reached up to press against his eyes, momentarily forgetting the glasses that were on his face. Right. He had been wearing these when he left earth. He pulled them down, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt.

He stretched his body testing out the stiffness that was still lingering, seeing how quickly it responded to the commands of his mind. He was still a little sluggish. His eyes quickly ran over the others who were emerging, assessing each of them quickly. He then took a moment to look around the area for any other shuttles that were arriving. He had been warned that his brother would not arrive with him, however, hope was a hard emotion to kill. Sighing, he grabbed the bottle he had brought with him as well as a small bag someone had passed out to everyone who had landed. His water bottle was still nearly full. Without a second glance back at the ship, he glanced towards the mountains. That was where they were headed, right? He thought he had overheard the direction when they had first emerged, the person who had come to meet the team, or was it someone on the ship that had said it? Did it even matter?

Asher Na was not in the mood for company. He needed to find his feet, he needed to figure out who he was supposed to be in this new place - who knew him, and how did they know him? Stretching once again, he began his journey into the dark, heading for the mountains.

By the time he had taken the tenth step, the man began to pick up the pace into a comfortable job. Before he had left earth, he had taken great care with his body. Runs had always helped clear his mind, and he needed time to rid himself of the fogginess and uncertainty that was still in his mind before he began to deal with others in this new circumstance. He steadied his breathing, falling into the rhythm as though he had not missed a day of exercise. Each step seemed to fill him with more clarity, more ease with his movements. He was beginning to feel more and more like himself as he breathed in the air. He wondered momentarily how the air here would affect him, but his body seemed to respond well enough.

The darkness settled around him, with the occasional unsettling sound out into the darkness. His eyes scanned the surroundings for a moment, though his pace neither quickened or slowed. He was confident enough in his abilities in fighting to believe he could get away, and disciplined enough to keep his imagination from running wild at the slightest noise. Having operated in shadows and secrets for over a decade, he knew that the imagination was an enemy that would cause him to overreact in fear more often than not.

When a few minutes passed with no attack, he continued in his rhythm for a few more kilometers before slowing his pace. The mountains were far enough away he didn't want to push himself too close to exhaustion on his first day. Pacing himself for a number of hours, he slowed as the mountains rose above him. There was still no light on the horizon, and the shadows of the mountains offered even more darkness, making it more difficult to see. He paused, taking the last drink of his water before moving forward at a much more cautious pace. Not to mention his body was beginning to feel more of the effects of the run on the back end of his cryosleep. A wave of dizziness washed over him, his vision blurring into the darkness of shadows for a brief moment. Perhaps he had pushed too far on his first night. Perhaps he had been feeling too eager to stretch his body and test his new surroundings.

Breathing heavily, he waited only until his vision cleared before forging ahead again. There was no use waiting to find where he was supposed to be, settling in to his life.

He hadn't counted on a fresh wave of dizziness washing over him shortly after reaching the mountains. He had been climbing over a small ledge to slip into what appeared to be the entrance of the tunnels when he lost time. Moments later, he was staring up at the stars from the shadows of the mountain, his head aching with more than just the exhaustion. He reached up to his temple, his fingers coming away sticky with what he could only assume would be blood from where he had slid down the rocks.

He cursed, unwilling for a moment to try moving any more than necessary. He was here. He could take a few more minutes before making his way inside, right?