Aether Research Facility
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Red emergency lights flooded the Aether City Research Facility, blinking in violent rhythm as sirens howled through steel corridors. The sound bounced off glass walls and metal floors, turning the entire complex into a screaming beast. Every sector was alive with chaos. Scientists in white coats ran between holographic consoles, their shoes skidding against polished floors, voices overlapping as instructions were shouted, ignored, and shouted again.
This wasn't just another malfunction.
This was the kind of mistake that ended civilizations.
A short man with a round face, pale skin, and mousy brown hair—one eyebrow oddly shaved clean—frantically hammered at a floating control panel. Sweat trickled down his temple as his fingers shook.
"Sir! It's not working!" he yelled over the sirens. "The force field is totally blocked! There's nothing we can do anymore… so why not eat our final dinner, maybe?"
The man standing ahead of him turned sharply.
Dr. Oden was tall but slouched, as if the weight of responsibility had bent his spine over the years. His bald head gleamed under the red lights, and a thick vein throbbed near his temple. Black horn-rimmed glasses hung crooked on his nose, one side perpetually sliding down no matter how many times he pushed them back.
"Jim," he snapped, voice raw, "will you keep your stupid black hole aside for one damn moment and try to get the work done?! Why do I always get idiots under me?!"
Jim flinched but didn't stop typing.
Dr. Oden dragged a hand across his scalp, nails scraping skin. The disruption had begun minutes ago, but every second felt heavier than the last. The field wasn't just a shield—it was a filter. A barrier that decided what was allowed to exist near Earth and what wasn't. Without it, the planet was naked.
"Sir! Sir! Sir!"
"I'm right behind you, Jim!"
"Well—sir—did you watch that one movie—" Jim coughed awkwardly. "Ahem, sorry, sir… but there's an external force actively trying to penetrate the force field protecting four cities, including Aether."
Dr. Oden stared at the readings. His mouth opened slightly.
"Freakin' shit…"
Jim squinted at the data, oddly impressed. "Yeah. Freaking awesome…"
The camera cut to space.
A massive black battle spaceship emerged from the darkness, its surface absorbing light rather than reflecting it. No visible engines. No sound. It drifted forward with terrifying calm, approaching the shimmering force field wrapped around Earth like a fragile bubble.
Inside the ship, darkness ruled.
A vast chamber stretched endlessly, lit only by faint, pulsing lines along the floor. At its center stood a throne—ancient, jagged, and carved from something that did not belong to this universe.
A silhouette sat upon it.
The figure's shape was unclear, constantly shifting, as though shadows refused to agree on its form. Two faint glimmers watched Earth through an invisible window.
"Finally…" the silhouette spoke.
The voice was dry, cracked, and slow, each word dragging against the silence like claws against stone.
"I will get the key."
From the darkness behind the throne, something moved. A thin shape slithered forward, its presence announced only by a whisper.
"Yesss, myy lord, sss~," it hissed. "You surely will, sss~."
Thud! Thud!
The sound echoed inside a quiet mansion.
Karl lay sprawled across the couch, one arm dangling over the edge, lazily bouncing a rubber ball against the wall. Thud. Catch. Thud. Catch. His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused.
A week.
It had been a week since his grandmother died. A week since the hospital room. A week since words he didn't know how to respond to were burned into his mind.
The conversation replayed endlessly, like music stuck on loop.
He tapped his neuro-link band watch.
A familiar voice filled the room.
"Dear Karl… I know it's pretty late to discuss or sort things out with you, but um… I am sorry… sob!"
Karl's jaw tightened.
"I could never forgive myself. If only I had more time, maybe we could talk about how you are, what your favourite food is, how special my grandson has become… but because of my fault, there's no more time."
The ball slipped from his hand.
"I hope one day you could forgive me—your dad, everyone in the world—for failing you. That's all I had to say. When the time comes, I want you to always trust Binnet… he will guide you. Love you, my dear."
Silence.
Karl exhaled slowly, stood up, and hurled the ball out the open window.
A second later—
"OW—WHAT THE HELL?!"
A guy outside, mid-pee in the garden, hopped around in pain, yelling curses at the house.
Ring! Ring!
"Hello, Karl speaking."
"Yo bro, it's me, Jake."
"Oh yeah, sup dude… everything alright?"
"Of course, man. Look, I'm really sorry about your gran, but I hope you're not locking yourself inside grief mode."
"Bruh, I'm not that emotional… and I never even knew her that well, to be honest. Anyway, did you just call to check if I'm grounding myself or what?"
"Nah, man! I'm throwing a party for completing our first year at college—and before you say no, you're coming. That's final. Bye!"
"But—… this @sshole!"
Karl groaned. A walk might help. A small drink wouldn't hurt either.
As he reached for his jacket, the entire mansion shook.
The city of Aether rumbled like a waking giant.
Karl lost his balance and landed hard on his butt.
"F*ck, how much worse can this day get?!" he snapped. "What next—our house getting blown up by some stupid missile or what?!"
Crash! Crash!
"Woah, woah—hey! I was just kidding, man!"
The front door burst open.
Binnet rushed inside, breathing hard. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with graying hair pulled neatly back—but his eyes were wild, filled with raw panic, like a man who had just seen the impossible.
"Master Karl," he said urgently. "Are you alright?"
"I mean, yeah… unless you're counting that shake that nearly blew my screws out."
Binnet exhaled sharply in relief, turned, and rushed back outside.
"Yo, Binnet!" Karl shouted. "Seriously? How weird can a day get? The people around me—"
Binnet suddenly returned.
He grabbed Karl's hand, grip tight, unshaking.
"Karl," he said quietly, "promise me this. Under no circumstances are you to leave the mansion unless I tell you to. Got it? I won't be here for a week. Don't do anything stupid… love you, son."
Karl froze.
"…Well," he muttered after a moment, "never mind."
"This surely is not weird."