Stellar Commander Harold sat quietly in his quarters, staring at the dim glow of the lamp. The death of Sky Marshal Navion Pulsar weighed heavily on him. Pulsar had been his mentor back at the Academy — a strict yet caring teacher who once told him, "You'll carry the weight of others someday. Make sure you never falter." And now, Harold blamed himself for not being fast enough to prevent his death. The burden of failure gnawed at him in silence.
Meanwhile, in the grand council chamber, the most powerful leaders of the fleet assembled: Generals, Grand Admirals, Supreme Generals, even the Eternal Consul himself. The room carried the gravity of an empire shaken, its air thick with the tension of uncertainty.
On the table lay the reports from Patrol Vessel Aurelius and the disturbing visuals from Borax C. The officers exchanged uneasy glances as the images projected across the room.
One admiral finally broke the silence:Admiral 1: "These visuals… they were captured near Borax C. This anomaly—this so-called 'encounter zone'—it's unlike anything we've seen before."
Admiral Garcia: calm but grave. "Based on my own journey with the Aurelius crew, I can confirm that the gravitational anomaly there isn't just a rift. It's a passage. We crossed through it, and if we could enter… so could they. That's why I had Commander Harold establish a small outpost on Borax C. To act as our eyes and gatekeepers."
He sipped his tea before continuing, his words unsettling everyone.Admiral Garcia: "But mark this: the beings captured in these visuals… are not the same ones we encountered. Which means—"
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
Supreme General: "Then there may be more than one type of alien species out there?"
Admiral Garcia: with a slow nod. "That would be the case we must prepare for."
The conclusion was unavoidable. After hours of debate, the council decided: the truth must be made public. If these beings existed — multiple, unknown, and potentially hostile — then citizens had the right to know. For awareness. For safety. For survival.
A Month Later
On Earth, within the sprawling capital, life returned to its rhythm. But in the shadows, one of the Moryxil elite operatives had begun his mission. Disguised in human form, he studied their ways, mimicking their gestures, their tone, even their casual laziness. To him, it was both ridiculous and strangely entertaining.
He strolled near a large marble building, where a young man exited with a pile of books. The operative, feigning casual curiosity, called out:Moryxil Agent: "Hey, mate! What's in that… what do you call it—library?"
The boy blinked. "You've never been inside? It's full of knowledge! Stories, history, even designs of ships and weapons if you look in the right places. You should check it out."
The agent's eyes lit up. A vault of human knowledge… could this be where they've hidden their secrets? Their history? Their weapons? His heart quickened, but he kept his mask of normalcy.
The boy tilted his head at the stranger's stiff smile. "Weird dude… anyway, see ya!" and jogged off.
The operative straightened, muttering inwardly: No guards? No scanners? Careless humans… too trusting. This will be easier than I imagined.
Inside, the grand hall stretched endlessly, rows upon rows of shelves filled with books and data terminals. The librarian, an older man with spectacles and tired eyes, barely looked up.
Moryxil Agent: forcing a friendly tone. "Ehehm! Keeper of knowledge… could you kindly direct me to materials about, ah, guns and ships?" His attempt at a "normal" smile made his lips twitch unnaturally.
The librarian squinted at him, unimpressed. "Youngsters… always after the flashy things. Section C, third aisle. You'll find what you need there."
The agent bowed awkwardly, almost too rehearsed, and hurried away. Inside, his thoughts raged with glee:Too easy… far too easy. Soon I'll uncover their military secrets. With this knowledge, the Empire will bend them to its will. Wahahaha—!
His lips twisted into a silent, evil grin. A couple of students walking past whispered to each other, unsettled.
"Who's that creepy guy?""Don't know. Probably some nerd who takes role-playing too seriously."
The operative ignored them; his eyes fixed on the shelves ahead.
The Moryxil operative sat buried in the library, devouring one book after another. At first, it was simple curiosity. But the deeper he read, the more his hands trembled. Page after page revealed staggering accounts of human history — wars that spanned continents, revolutions that toppled empires, inventions that reshaped civilizations overnight.
He leaned back, sweat dripping down his temple. What… what kind of species are these humans?
And then, something stranger: myths, legends, fictional stories that went beyond even the wildest Moryxil imagination. Stories of gods walking among mortals, machines that could swallow stars, empires rising and falling in cycles beyond comprehension. The operative couldn't tell where reality ended, and fiction began. But to the aliens, every word seemed sacred, recorded as if it were truth.
If they start a war?....his heart thudded. Then we are already too late.
He forced himself to continue. He would not stop until he read every scrap of information.
Meanwhile, aboard the Moryxil flagship, Commander Byzon reviewed the intelligence reports gathered over the past month. At first, he was satisfied.
Byzon: smirking, "So this is the so-called 'superior species'? A Level 5 civilization? Hah! Don't make me laugh. From this data, they barely scrape into a mid-Level 1. Their technology is primitive compared to ours. A wasted effort. Prepare the report for Yorga. We'll show him proof of their weakness."
A soldier saluted. "Sir, there is… one late report still coming in."
Byzon: waving dismissively, "It's probably the same nonsense. Forward it."
Hours later, he sat in silence, reading through the latest transmission. His face drained of color. For an entire day, he read without pause, each line unraveling the certainty he once held. Finally, he slammed the data-slate onto the table.
Byzon: horrified, "This… this cannot be real. Is this exaggeration? Or deception?"
Byzon: "Bravado! Contact the scout who submitted this intel. Now."
Bzzzzt… click.
A nervous trooper's face appeared on the holoscreen. He saluted sharply.Trooper: "I greet the Commander!"
Byzon: "Now speak. Is this report true? The archives you found—are they real?"
Trooper: "Affirmative, Commander. The evidence is solid. I captured visuals, texts, and artifacts. They may appear dumb, careless, even lazy… but I fear it is an act. Their archives call them masters of deception."
The words struck Byzon like a blade. He recalled an ancient warning, long buried in the annals of their own empire: Beware the ones who write their truths in lies and their lies in truths. For in their deception lies their greatest power.
Byzon shot to his feet.Byzon: "RETREAT. Recall every dispatched unit immediately! We will not interfere with these beings until further orders. Pull all battleships and crafts back to holding positions near their cities. We watch. We wait."
The soldiers exchanged uneasy looks but carried out his command. The order was clear: no more reckless scouting, no unnecessary risks.
As the fleet shifted to standby, Byzon composed an urgent transmission to Yorga. His voice was heavy, restrained, but the fear was unmistakable.
Byzon's Message:"What we have encountered is far more dangerous than we ever imagined. These humans… they are not what we thought. Proceed with utmost caution."
And for the first time in years, Commander Byzon felt the chill of uncertainty settle in his bones.