At NASA headquarters, John Livingstone sat motionless in his office, lost in thought. The weight of responsibility etched on his face, his eyes vacant.
Lara, the newest data analyst, knocked repeatedly, but John remained unresponsive. Concerned, she entered the office to find him staring blankly.
"Mr. Livingstone?" she called softly.
But John's gaze didn't waver.
"Mr. John!" her voice rose, pulling the young man out of his reverie.
John blinked, regaining composure. "What can I do for you, Miss Lara?" he asked as he dabbed the sweat and tears from his face with a handkerchief. His eyes red-rimmed now staring at Lara.
"We've received intel from our space team," Lara said. "The extraterrestrial beings that attacked Mr. Mark's spacecraft have returned."
John's eyes widened in alarm. "They're back again?!"
Lara nodded grimly.
"Yes, sir. They're lurking in space."
"We must prepare to att—"
A knock at the door interrupted him.
"–Come in."
The transparent door slid open, admitting a woman in her late 40s with short black hair. Her piercing gaze swept the room, assessing the mood.
"Mrs. Mary, what brings you here?" John asked.
"Mr. John," Mrs. Mary began, "we've received a message from the Head Scientist's office. Dr. Idris has requested an emergency meeting, scheduled to join us in twenty minutes."
John nodded curtly and said to Lara, "Please inform Carla to prepare for the briefing."
Lara nodded and swiftly exited the office.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, sir," Mrs. Mary consoled. "Mr. Mark was an exceptional individual."
"He was more than that," John said. "He was a friend, a colleague... It shouldn't have been him."
Mrs. Mary's hand rested on John's shoulder, offering comfort. Her left middle finger scarred and shorter than the others, stood out – a testament to a long-healed wound.
Twenty minutes later, the conference room filled with NASA administrators and scientists. Dr. Idris arrived, his presence commanding attention. The room rose as one, greeting him with respectful murmurs.
"Please, take your seats," Dr. Idris said, his voice polite yet with a hint of authority. "Apologies for the delay. Let's begin the briefing."
The room settled, all eyes fixed on Dr. Idris.
Carla stepped forward, snatching the room's attention from Dr. Idris. With a click of the remote, the projector sprang to life, casting a stark image on the screen.
"Two days ago, our spacecraft transmitted crucial data revealing an extraterrestrial entity approaching our planet," Carla began. "Regrettably, the footage is unclear due to the attack on one of our ships in space."
The screen displayed the ravaged remains of the spaceship, eliciting murmurs and gasps from the room.
"This...this is the aftermath of the aliens' encounter two days ago," Carla continued. "Our vessel, once a marvel of human ingenuity, now lies in ruins."
A director's voice rose in disbelief, "Oh my goodness! Is this real?!" He adjusted his eyeglasses, leaning forward to scrutinize the image.
"Afraid so. As you can see..." Carla nodded. She advanced the slides, revealing devastating photos of the destroyed ship.
"The attack resulted in zero survivors. All computer systems and communication devices were annihilated." She paused, then added, "However, we managed to recover the CCTV footage."
With a click, the room plunged into silence as the footage played. Grainy images revealed the chaos: debris floating, alarms blaring, and the haunting screams of the crew.
Everyone in the room froze in horror as the damaged video played, the screams and cries of agony from the dying NASA employees echoing through the speakers. The audio, eerily clear, contrasted with the distorted visuals.
Some administrators covered their eyes and ears, unable to bear the haunting scenes. Others signaled Carla to stop the video, flipping their hands downward in distress.
Carla paused the footage and continued, "About an hour ago, we received intel from our new space team indicating the aliens are still lurking, seemingly... waiting—"
"Waiting for night to arrive," Dr. Idris finally broke his silence. "They're sensitive to light. In the footage, they destroyed the light sources before attacking."
"Why do you think so? They seem bent on destruction," a man, possibly in his late 50s, said.
"Their tactics suggest strategy, not mere destruction," Dr. Idris said. "They're seeking something specific."
"And their continued presence near our planet suggests they haven't found it yet," Carla added.
"What could they possibly want?" asked one director.
"That's what we need to determine, I think they're looking for something…or someone?" Dr. Idris replied.
"Someone!? Are you certain about what you're saying, Dr. Idris?" one of the administrators inquired.
"I've spent thirteen years honing my expertise in this field," Dr. Idris replied confidently. "My instincts have never failed me. I have a strong suspicion about who the aliens might be searching for, but I need more time to confirm."
"Suspicion!? This is an unmitigated disaster!" A director scoffed disdainfully. Do you seriously think instincts are enough to guide us?"
"This is preposterous! Dr. Idris, we can't rely on hunches. Civilians' lives hang on our decisions. If we fail, resignation won't be an option. Our careers, our reputations—everything will be at stake."
Dr. Idris met their skepticism with calm determination.
"I understand the gravity of the situation. I'm not asking for blind faith, but I need your trust. If things go awry, I'll take full responsibility." He paused, surveying the room before concluding, "This meeting has reached its end. We must prepare for the unknown."
Turning to John, Dr. Idris issued a crisp instruction. "Prepare for our visitors. It's going to be a long, trying night."
John nodded swiftly.
"Yes, sir!"
He hurried out of the room while the administrators were left to process the looming threat.