"People say it's true…" murmured the owner of the street burrito cart in a hushed voice to one of his customers, who was eating one of his burritos with fascination, listening intently to his friend.
Burrito sauce dripped onto the ground and even onto his clothes, but the scruffy-looking sixty-year-old man eating the exquisite dish didn't care in the slightest.
Benny was trying to read his quantum mathematics book with focus, sitting on a bench near the burrito stand, where the spicy smell was revolting to him—especially when it mixed with the cigarette smoke from the many people strolling by. According to them, smoking was a way to warm up after the cold snap of this time of year seeped into their bones.
"And we're just ending summer… I don't even want to imagine how these bastards will smoke when winter comes," Benny thought, saying nothing aloud, knowing that his words could stir up chaos at that moment.
The final-year aerospace engineering student at Harvard University preferred to keep reading rather than worry about other people. After all, he didn't work at NASA yet—so why bother?
Suddenly, the heavy, everyday rhythm of Cambridge, Massachusetts, was shattered when a powerful 7.5 earthquake struck the city without warning.
The agencies responsible for monitoring such natural events had not sent alerts to residents' phones—no notifications, nothing to prevent greater disaster. Tragically, there were many losses—both human and material.
Fortunately, despite nearly being swallowed by a massive fissure that raced beneath his feet, Benny emerged unscathed.
He ran home—a small apartment with just the basics to get by while studying and working toward a dream job at NASA.
Though his father, a multimillionaire who owned a highly successful real estate agency in England, had offered Benny every comfort if he studied at a certain university, Benny had always preferred simplicity. And at Harvard—where it was typical for students to stand out for what they owned rather than who they were—he didn't want to make a bad impression on his classmates.
Nor did he want anyone to assume that if he landed his dream job at one of the most important government agencies in history, it was thanks to his father's influence. If they thought that, they'd be wrong.
Benny was highly intelligent and anything but careless.
But his fear during the earthquake was so great that he never noticed that, just below him, as the ground split open and spread—swallowing everything in its path—something reached out.
A pale, wrinkled hand, covered in mold, with dried bloodstains and unhealed wounds, emerged from the depths.
That night, Benny had to study.
The next day he had to submit an important written report about the Moon and its relationship to the climate changes Earth was currently facing.
"Why the hell do seminar professors come up with the idea of assigning work from one day to the next? Lucky for me, I have until midnight tomorrow to send it in by email," Benny told himself, taking off his glasses, rubbing his eyes, putting them back on, and adjusting his posture to start writing his paper.
An hour passed, but before Benny could even write a single paragraph—even a rough draft—his pizza delivery arrived from his favorite restaurant.
At 1:15 a.m., Benny was asleep at his desk.
He had eaten half the pizza and downed more than one beer under the excuse that being tipsy might inspire him to write better. But Benny had forgotten one thing: he was a terrible writer, and always had been—numbers were his real talent.
How ironic, right?
Again, a mild tremor—4.5—shook the earth resting in deep silence.
Benny woke up.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered, as his eyes struggled to open fully.
Everything around him looked blurry. A sharp headache gripped his sanity.
And in front of him… a humanoid figure stared straight at him.
The figure stood two meters tall and was incredibly thin—its ribs visible at a glance.
Its eyes were black and bulging.
Its head was oval-shaped.
Worst of all was its mouth—it looked demonic, filled with enormous, razor-sharp teeth like knives.
Finally, Benny snapped fully awake.
His eyes widened like saucers as he realized the terrifying presence before him.
For a moment, he froze in shock.
The silence was his only ally—until, out of nervousness, he banged his foot against a desk leg, sending an empty beer can tumbling to the floor.
Benny swallowed hard, never breaking eye contact with the humanoid.
The silence was shattered by a deep, guttural growl from the horrific creature, and its mouth opened so wide that an entire human head could have fit inside without trouble. Its teeth were the stuff of nightmares, and its tongue—needle-shaped—shot out like something long trapped in quarantine, desperate for human flesh and blood.
"Shit!" Benny shouted, reacting just before the tongue struck his face.
He leapt from his chair, knocking everything off his desk in the process. Benny bolted through the living room, terror gripping him like never before.
What the hell was going on?
Why hadn't the news said anything about this?
Too late for questions or complaints.
The world had been invaded earlier that afternoon, right after the first quake—and Benny was only just finding out.
He managed to escape his apartment, stumbling into a scene worthy of an unexpected apocalypse.
Though his immediate area was eerily quiet and empty, Benny could feel the fear of others from afar.
A helicopter appeared in the dark predawn sky of August 8.
Through a loudspeaker, a man's voice called out:
"All survivors, please head to Harvard Stadium. That will be your new home—we will provide protection, food, medical care, and, above all, shelter until the United States government issues a statement."
"Mm… Yeah, I guess I'll head there. Not like I have a choice," Benny murmured, eyes locked on the helicopter as it moved slowly away.
A deafening noise cut off his thoughts.
The alien had found him—just meters away, ready to attack again.
But no, Benny wasn't going to let that happen.
The engineering student ran as fast as he could. Luckily, in his free time, he often went jogging—up to three hours at a time—as his favorite form of exercise.
He ran until the alien was out of sight.
Stopping to catch his breath, Benny felt as though his heart might stop any second—and he definitely didn't want that.
He found an abandoned alley along his path, leaned against the wall, and that's when it happened.
[DING!] Activation Conditions Met: Hostis Threat detected. Interplanetary Survival Engineering Protocol online. Welcome, Operator Benny. Initiating neural calibration… 3%, 12%, 49%… Complete. Primary Objective: Survive at all costs. Secondary Objective: Neutralize threats and ensure human supremacy in the sector.
"What the hell was that?" Benny thought.
The metallic, neutral voice came from nowhere in particular… yet resonated directly inside his mind, as if embedded in his own thoughts with no intention of leaving.
[Urgent Mission Assigned]: Evade and neutralize Hostis Alpha before it regains your scent with its advanced olfactory system. Time limit: 05:00 minutes.
Reward: +10 Engineering Points, unlock Basic Blueprint: Electromagnetic Spear.
Failure Penalty: Death.
Benny blinked several times, trying to process what was happening—convincing himself it was just exhaustion or the alcohol from earlier. But then, a translucent panel appeared, floating in the air.
A blue hologram displayed data straight out of a video game—like the ones Benny loved to play when he could waste free time instead of studying:
[Operator Status]
Health: 92%
Stamina: 37%
Equipment: None
Inventory: Empty
A red dot blinked on the map—closing in fast.
"No… no, no, no… this isn't real. Must be the damn beer. I'll never drink again," he whispered, burying his face in his hands, certain he was losing his mind.
[ALERT]: Hostis Alpha is 42 meters away and closing.
[Suggestion]: Use nearby resources to craft an improvised weapon.
Benny turned his head and saw an open dumpster, a rusty metal pipe sticking out, and a couple of broken glass bottles on the ground. The holographic display flickered as if trying to point something out:
Blueprint available:Improvised spear with glass tip.
Assembly time: 35 seconds.
Craft? [Yes / No]
The alien's roar echoed from the street, signaling it was near.
"Shit… yes," he muttered, tapping the hologram with a trembling hand.
[Confirmed] Initiating assembly process…
His hands began moving instinctively, guided by the system—though he had no idea what he was doing and couldn't stop even if he wanted to.
At last, the improvised weapon was complete.
Benny was ready to defend himself.
[Attack the alien directly in the heart to kill it. If you miss, you die.]
Clearly, Benny didn't want to die—not yet.
He waited.
Benny and the alien came face to face.
Just a few steps remained before the first round of the game ended.
Who would win?
The alien roared again—but this time, softer, its echo bouncing only between the alley walls.
"Come on, buddy. What are you waiting for? Come at me… I'm sure you won't make it out of this one," Benny muttered, ready in attack stance with his improvised spear.
The alien hissed, moving its mouth and tongue like a snake.
In truth, the creature surpassed anything reality had ever shown.
It was far uglier—and far more horrifying—than the aliens in Benny's favorite sci-fi movies.
With determination, Benny hurled the spear straight toward the alien's heart.