It was a wonderful afternoon. Birds chirped in the distance, and the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. The kind of day that usually passed without incident, calm and unremarkable. By all accounts, it should have been beautiful, if not for the chaos that had suddenly descended upon the world.
Phones buzzed, voices rose, and streets slowed to a standstill as people looked upward in disbelief. The reason was impossible to ignore. A UFO had been spotted in broad daylight, hovering openly in the sky, witnessed by thousands of people at once. There were no shadows to hide behind and no darkness to cast doubt. Whatever it was, it was real, and the world would never be the same after seeing it.
---
In a quiet villa located far from the city, the soft glow of a large television lit up the living room. Afternoon sunlight streamed through wide windows, casting long shadows across polished floors. Several servants had gathered nearby, their attention fixed on the breaking news broadcast. The atmosphere was tense, filled with murmured speculation and unease.
On the screen, a news anchor sat upright behind her desk, her tone carefully controlled. "At this time, it remains unclear whether the reported UFO sightings are true or false," she said. "Officials have not yet confirmed the nature of the object seen earlier today, and investigations are ongoing."
As she spoke, her voice suddenly trailed off. She pressed a finger to her earpiece, listening intently. For a brief moment, the studio fell silent. Then she nodded slightly, her professional smile returning. "We have just received confirmation that a press conference will be held to address the current UFO sightings. We will now switch to our reporter at the scene."
The image shifted abruptly. The calm of the studio was replaced by chaos. Reporters crowded behind barricades, microphones raised, voices overlapping. Camera flashes went off in rapid bursts as a man in a sharply tailored military uniform walked toward the podium. He stood straight, waiting until the noise faded before clearing his throat.
"I will begin by addressing the matter of the aircraft sighting," he said. His voice was firm, confident, and rehearsed. "What was observed is not an unidentified flying object. It is a newly developed aircraft created by The Aerospace Companies Limited. During a scheduled test flight, the aircraft experienced a malfunction and exited its designated testing area."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "There is no evidence of extraterrestrial life on Earth, at least to our current knowledge. We advise the public to remain calm and to refrain from spreading false information. Anyone found doing so will be dealt with accordingly."
The reporters erupted with questions. One managed to speak loud enough to be heard. "Several eyewitnesses claim they saw someone fall from the aircraft before it disappeared. Can you confirm who that was, and where the aircraft is now?"
The man shifted his weight slightly. "The individual was a pilot evacuating the malfunctioning aircraft. They are currently receiving medical care. As for the aircraft itself, it is stranded in outer space, and recovery operations are already in progress."
"Liar," someone muttered.
The boy with black hair and striking green eyes had already turned away from the screen. Kyle felt a familiar irritation settle in his chest. He knew lies when he heard them. While the servants remained glued to the broadcast, whispering among themselves, Kyle quietly left the room and walked down the hallway.
He stopped in front of his bedroom door, his expression tightening. His hand hovered over the knob as doubt crept in, not fear, but uncertainty about what came next. After a moment, he scoffed under his breath and stepped inside.
The room was dim and silent. The curtains were drawn, and the air carried a faint metallic scent he still could not place. On his bed lay the reason he had given strict orders that no servant was to enter his room.
A girl lay motionless against the sheets. Her pale blonde hair spilled across the pillow, framing a face that looked almost human, yet not quite. Her skin held a faint bluish tint, subtle but unmistakable. She wore a strange, form-fitting suit made of an unfamiliar material, smooth and seamless, nothing like anything Kyle had ever seen outside of science fiction or cosplay events.
Her wrists were bound, and tape covered her mouth, though she showed no signs of resistance. She was completely unconscious, her chest rising and falling slowly.
Kyle stepped closer, studying her carefully. The military could deny the existence of aliens. They could dismiss the aircraft as a failed experiment. But he knew the truth. He had seen the person fall from the sky, and more importantly, he had what came out of it.
He looked down at the girl and tilted his head slightly. "What should I do with you, little miss alien?" he asked quietly. "Should I turn you in?"
---
A million miles away from Earth, chaos had found its way into space.
Inside a damaged spaceship, warning lights flickered endlessly, bathing the interior in harsh red flashes. Smoke drifted lazily near the ceiling, and the air carried the sharp smell of metal and burnt circuitry. Scattered across the main chamber were twenty-four people, some slumped against the walls, others lying flat on the floor. Every one of them was injured, their wounds ranging from shallow cuts to deep gashes that still bled freely.
"We're fucked. We are so screwed," one man muttered as he paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. His boots echoed against the metal floor as panic tightened his voice. "There's no fixing this. No fixing any of it."
"Shut up," a muscular man snapped from across the room.
He was easily the most injured among them. Blood trickled down the side of his head, staining his collar. His hands were slick with it, and a dark patch spread across his abdomen where a deep wound refused to stop bleeding. Despite that, he remained standing, his posture rigid, his jaw clenched in irritation rather than fear.
"We're dead," another person blurted out. Their breathing was uneven, bordering on hysterical. "We're all going to die out here. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
"I said shut up," the muscular man barked, louder this time.
Silence fell over the room. The pacing stopped. Even the distant alarms seemed to fade into the background as everyone looked toward him. For a brief moment, no one spoke.
"We shouldn't have done that, Jake," the man who had been pacing finally said, his voice lower now. "You know what this means. The Supreme General will kill us when he finds out."
The muscular man scoffed, wiping blood from his brow with the back of his hand. "Please," Jacob said confidently. "The Supreme General doesn't care about her."
"Even if that were true," the man shot back, "she's still his daughter. You really think he's just going to let this slide? We're getting punished for this. One way or another."
Jacob straightened, ignoring the pain that clearly pulsed through his body. "Relax," he said. "I already know how to handle the situation."
The man hesitated before speaking again. "And his wife?" he asked carefully. "What about her? Can you handle her too?"
Jacob stiffened.
His confident expression faltered, just for a moment, before his face hardened into a frown. The red warning lights reflected in his eyes as his jaw tightened. He said nothing, but the silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken fear that no one dared to voice aloud.