"Tch, why only now?"
A short-haired man lounged in a cushy chair, feet propped on the desk. A blue hologram floated before his face, showing rows of transactions with so many zeros it made his eyes ache.
Brian Samosir, twenty years old, the prodigy of Genesis Corp. With his current position, life felt like a toy. He closed the hologram, spun his chair, and looked out through the wide glass window.
Skyscrapers blocked the blue sky. Below, air traffic was dense: vehicles gliding along special lanes, neon-lit transport platforms, and tiny robots blinking as they delivered packages to every building.
"Package?" Brian muttered.
A pentagonal robot with eight legs extended a box.
[ Package for: Mr. Brian Samosir ]
[ Sender: Mrs. Wulan ]
[ Message: "Son, don't forget lunch. Mom cooked your favorite oxtail soup." ]
A warm smile touched Brian's face. With a wave, the transparent glass slid open. The courier robot placed the package on his desk, already crowded with three computer holograms, then left. Brian opened the box at once.
Inside was a three-tier lunchbox, still steaming. The scent of rich broth drifted up, making his stomach growl.
"Thanks, Mom," he said softly.
He lifted each lid and sipped the hot soup. The savory taste soothed his throat. Brian closed his eyes for a moment, picturing his mother's loving face.
Thank you… he repeated inwardly, then kept eating, savoring every bite as if it were the finest gift.
Suddenly, one of the holograms in front of him turned blue, showing an incoming call. The faint face of an elderly man appeared.
Brian ignored it and kept spooning soup.
The screen flashed red, a priority override call. The old man's face appeared clearly now: classic suit, a thin smile, worry in his eyes.
"Sorry to bother you again, Young Brian. I need your help immediately."
Without turning his head, Brian said flatly, "Explain."
"The national energy core is showing anomalies. The main channels are disrupted… and stranger still, the sensors picked up a foreign voice transmission."
Before he could finish, Brian cut in, cool and sharp, "I'll be there in ten minutes."
The hologram closed at once.
Before he could stand, a flying car slid up to the glass window. The door opened automatically. A man in a formal suit stepped in and stood straight behind Brian's chair.
"Orders from the President. I'll escort Mr. Brian to the Palace."
"Huff…" Brian let out a light sigh and sped up his meal. Once done, he rose, straightened his jacket, and strolled toward the car.
"Let's go," he said briefly, authoritative, like a true boss.
***
In the domed chamber, thousands of cables spread from a massive white cube at the center, linked to an energy ring on the lower floor. Eight metal arms braced the cube from above. Armed guards patrolled on two levels while cameras watched every corner.
"Krttt… crrttt…"
The buzzing grew clearer, it came from the cube.
Brian stepped closer, heart thumping, thinking of that foreign transmission from beyond Earth.
He had always believed in the theory that intelligent life might exist out there. This was the first time he could truly feel it.
"Interesting," he murmured, calm but with bright eyes. He glanced at a woman in a white uniform at the control panel. "Open the transmission channel."
She tapped a series of keys. A mechanical arm descended slowly from above, stopping right in front of Brian.
He took a special pair of glasses from his pocket, attached the sensor, and linked himself to the cube's system. His smartwatch vibrated and blinked, foreign data was coming in.
Officials and the old man held their breath. They knew Brian helped design this cube. If anyone could decode the alien message, it was him.
"Confirmed…" Brian's voice was quiet; a thin smile formed. "This transmission isn't from Earth."
"WHAT?" The old man gaped. "How is that possible?" His voice shook. Faces behind him paled.
Brian didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the data unraveling across the screen.
One algorithm tested, failed.
Next algorithm, failed.
Thousands of algorithms ran. One by one, they failed.
Lines of red filled the display, crawling downward like an unstoppable data rain.
Brian's brow furrowed. No way… He had nearly exhausted every algorithm he had.
Unease rippled through the group behind him.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Brian?"
"Why can't the data be read?"
Brian stayed silent. His gaze was empty, thoughts spinning.
"Don't bother him," the old man warned. "Let him focus."
Brian finally exhaled and looked at the smartwatch on his wrist. A tiny needle pricked his skin; a brief sting ran across the back of his hand. A new hologram window popped up:
[ Assistant Floryn is ready to assist Mr. Brian. How can I help? ]
[ Warning: Only 9 energy points left. Please recharge soon. ]
A faint smile touched Brian's lips, part hope, part despair. Floryn, his greatest secret and the reason he'd made it this far.
"Floryn, analyze."
[ Analyzing foreign packet… estimated time: 7 minutes. Please wait. ]
"As expected," Brian muttered. Floryn usually needed less than three seconds to handle any tech on Earth. Even this core cube had never taken more than ten seconds.
He waited. So did the president and the officials around him, holding their breath.
But at minute five,
BRUUMMM…
The core cube shook violently. Energy surged in all directions, snapping at metal walls and nearby consoles.
"WATCH OUT!"
Guards rushed to shield the president. Electric arcs hissed: Zap! Zing!
Brian tried to move, but his body locked up. He stared at the watch on his wrist, the restraint came from there.
Damn it… what's happening?!
Zap!
In an instant, Brian's vision blinked to black, and when it cleared, he was no longer in the domed chamber.
In front of him stood a group of people in advanced gray armor lined with glowing stripes. Two were busy repairing a small cube at the end of the room, while a man turned, startled, toward Brian.
A woman hurried over, eyes widening.
"Waaaa!" she shouted in a language Brian didn't understand.
She seized his arm, twisted it, and bound both hands behind his back. Brian staggered, dazed, as everyone around them stared.
But they had no time to worry about a stranger who had suddenly appeared. All attention stayed fixed on the small cube, the source of chaos, and possibly far more dangerous than Brian himself.
Brian looked around. Outside the craft, the walls were dark and abstract, shifting without pattern, like black paint swirling in restless water. The vessel itself was simple: a small cockpit at the front and a few storage boxes at the back.
"Spaceship?" he mumbled, unsure.