Chapter 8: The Hunt Begins
Three days passed.
Three days of silence. Three days of dread.
In the undercurrents of news and whispers, a narrative began to form—an unknown threat hiding in the hills. Something that didn't belong. And always, there was that one word hanging in the air like a loaded gun:
Alien.
The government still hadn't announced anything officially. But military-grade surveillance planes circled the nearby regions at low altitude. Civilian access to the forest was restricted under the guise of a "wildlife conservation alert." No one knew what was coming—but it was coming.
Yumiko could feel it in her blood.
Suraj noticed she had stopped eating. Her hands trembled sometimes when she thought no one was looking. Her body was still, but her mind never stopped calculating.
"Yumiko," he asked one morning, "what are you preparing for?"
She looked at him, eyes dark and sunken. "A war I might not win."
He grabbed her hand across the breakfast table. "Then don't fight alone."
That night, a perimeter breach was detected near her ship. She sprinted out of the house without explanation.
Suraj chased after her, barefoot, heart hammering.
They reached the outer edge of the forest in minutes, and what they saw made both of them freeze.
Three men in black suits.
No emblems. No insignia.
Just heavy tech and even heavier intent.
Yumiko didn't hesitate. Her hair ignited with violet light, the strands whipping outward like serpents. She launched into them before they even noticed.
It wasn't a fight. It was a massacre.
Limbs snapped. Bones crushed. Blood painted the roots.
Suraj stood there, frozen.
When she turned back to him, covered in gore, her expression was blank. No remorse. No hesitation.
"I warned them," she whispered. "I *warned* them."
He took a step back, breath shallow.
"Do you fear me again?" she asked softly, trembling now.
"I…"
He looked into her eyes, and something twisted in his chest. It wasn't fear. Not entirely.
It was the terrifying realization of what love had made her willing to do.
And what it might make him do too.
She collapsed into his arms. "They're not going to stop. More will come. Stronger ones. Crueler ones."
Suraj held her tightly. "Then we leave. We run."
"No. They'll hunt us across the globe."
"Then we make a stand."
Yumiko looked up. "That means blood."
"I know."
His voice cracked. "But I can't lose you. I won't."
She kissed him—desperate, trembling.
And in the trees, unseen by either of them, a surveillance drone blinked silently.
---
Later that night, as they washed the blood from her hands in the stream that ran behind the forest, Suraj couldn't stop staring at her fingers.
"How do you stay so calm?" he asked.
"I'm not," Yumiko said quietly. "I just… detach. If I feel everything, I'll shatter."
He reached over and touched her hand. "You don't have to carry it alone."
She gave him a sad smile. "But I do. You're not the one they're hunting. I brought this here. My ship. My species. My signal."
"You're not a weapon," Suraj whispered.
"No," she agreed. "But my body is."
The moment hung between them—soft, cold, and soaked in blood.
---
Elsewhere, in a concrete facility deep underground, two officers reviewed the grainy footage from the drone.
One leaned closer, voice low. "That's no terrestrial tech."
The other adjusted his headset. "This is above military grade. Someone better call HQ."
A red light blinked on.
Phase One: Confirmed.
---
Back at Suraj's home, his mother opened the bedroom door slightly, surprised to find the bed empty again. She glanced out the window into the woods—her expression growing more worried by the day.
Something was wrong.
Something terrible.
And she could feel it coming for her son.
---
The morning after the forest attack, the house felt colder.
Suraj sat by the window, staring out at the woods, half-expecting to see black-suited agents emerge again. The wind rustled the trees with an eerie patience, like the whole forest was holding its breath.
Yumiko hadn't slept. She simply sat in the corner of his room, her knees tucked to her chest, her eyes unfocused. Her mind was spiraling somewhere between calculation and regret.
"I killed them," she finally whispered.
Suraj didn't answer. He just stood and walked toward her, knelt, and gently wrapped his arms around her.
"You protected me," he murmured.
"I took lives."
"They were going to take yours."
Silence stretched between them. Not awkward, not hostile. Just heavy.
Then Yumiko looked at him and said, "If this keeps going… you'll be forced to choose."
Suraj blinked. "Choose?"
"Between your world and me."
"I already chose."
"You might regret it."
He leaned in, their foreheads touching. "Then let me regret it at your side."
---
Later that day, agents returned—but this time they were not quiet. Trucks thundered into the surrounding areas, civilians were evacuated, and the press was locked out. The government wasn't pretending anymore.
A full lockdown on the surrounding hills was announced under the pretext of "biohazard containment." Helicopters roared overhead. The air felt thinner. Time felt shorter.
Suraj's parents noticed. His mother approached him with trembling hands. "Are you… hiding something?"
He couldn't lie anymore. But he couldn't tell them either. All he could say was, "I love someone who isn't like us."
"Is she dangerous?"
"She's lost," he whispered.
His father's face darkened. "Then the world will try to break her. And they will break you too."
Suraj looked down. "Let them try."
That night, Yumiko stood at the edge of the stream again. The blood was gone, washed into the soil—but she could still feel it.
"I should leave," she whispered to the night.
Suraj came up behind her. "And leave me?"
"It would be the safest thing."
"For who?" he asked. "Me or you?"
She didn't answer.
So he did: "I'm not safe without you."
And in the moonlight, surrounded by whispers of ash and the silence of coming storms, they kissed again—this time not out of desperation, but defiance.
---
Elsewhere, deep within the central command bunker, a council assembled.
"Codename confirmed: Entity S-13."
"Status?"
"Violent. Defensive. Intelligent. Biohazard potential—unmeasured."
"What are we authorizing?"
A moment of silence.
"Containment. At any cost."
---
Outside, the forest began to breathe differently.
The hunt had begun.