It came at midnight—a voice that touched every creature's mind simultaneously.
Foolish children. You think unity will save you? I have devoured civilizations older than your species. I have fed on gods. And you— A laugh like breaking worlds. You are barely a meal.
Glad stood in the community center's main hall, surrounded by hundreds of creatures, all frozen by the voice.
Your Gladys. Your leader. She cannot save you. No one can. Surrender now, and I'll make your end quick. Resist, and I'll savor every scream.
The voice faded.
Silence.
Then Maya spoke, her young voice steady: "That was terrifying. But also—kind of desperate? Like when someone threatens you but doesn't actually do anything."
Laughter rippled through the hall—nervous, but real.
"She's right," Glad said. "If it could attack directly, it would have. It's testing us. Seeing if we'll break."
"Will we?" someone asked.
Glad looked around at the faces—hundreds of species, thousands of individuals, all watching her.
"No," she said firmly. "We won't. Because we have something it doesn't. Connection. Trust. Love. It can't understand those things. Can't fight them."
"But can they protect us?"
"Only one way to find out."
The night passed without further incident.
But everyone felt it—waiting.
Watching.
Hungry.