His eyes, bloodshot from exhaustion and hopelessness, reflected the brilliant glare of sapphire flames blazing on the monitors.
"What in hell is that?"
Admiral Graves, normally rigid as steel, stumbled forward, gripping the console as if the world had just tilted beneath him. Sweat beaded his forehead, glistening under the harsh artificial lighting.
"Impossible,"
Graves stammered, pale as death itself.
"We…we have nothing like this. No one does. How the hell is it even airborne?"
Around the room, chaos erupted as other officials clamored to confirm the sight before their eyes, scrambling through papers, shouting frantic orders at analysts hunched over their consoles.
An intelligence officer, young and barely holding himself together, choked out.
"Multiple satellite confirmations. It, it came from inside Mount E*erest. It literally burst out of the damn mountain!"
General Roth, leaning heavily on a nearby wall, his uniform stained and torn, barked harshly, "E*erest? Are you telling me that thing's been buried inside E*erest this entire g*dsdamn time?"
"Yes, sir,"
Replied another technician, trembling as she stared at the data pouring across her screen. "Signature matches previous unknown radar anomalies we dismissed as glitches…It must've been dormant, hidden beneath the ice and rock. But this, this isn't just some bunker. It's a spaceship, sir. A warship."
Caldwell took a ragged breath, turning his gaze toward the Secretary of State, whose face was ashen and unreadable.
"Is it ours? Please tell me that's some black project you forgot to brief me on."
"No, sir,"
She replied quietly, voice hollow.
"I wish it were."
He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing hard as reality sank deeper into his bones.
"Then who controls it?"
Caldwell asked, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of impending panic.
"Is this an alien craft, or something the Eastern Bloc had hidden?"
The Secretary of Defense, an older man with silver streaked hair and deep lines etched by decades of hard choices, slowly shook his head.
"Its definetly not the Eastern Blocs sir, or whatever's left of it, seems just as shocked as we are. Their surviving comm channels are lighting up with panic. This…this thing isn't theirs."
Silence descended on the bunker again, oppressive, choking. Finally, a young communications officer spun around from his station, his eyes wide, headset trembling on his head.
"Sir, we've got surviving UAVs and drones close enough to get visuals. Sending the feed now."
Screens around the room flickered, shifting from satellite imagery to closer, more intimate views. The image sharpened, showing details that rendered the entire chamber silent once more.
The ship massive, pitch black, scarred by evident signs of repairs and unimaginable age floated effortlessly, defying gravity as if taunting the laws of physics themselves.
Its hull, jagged yet symmetrical, pulsed with an eerie blue energy. Turrets and weapons emplacements bristled along its surface, a terrifying testament to destructive capability.
Caldwell stared numbly at the feed, barely registering the whispered prayers or quiet sobs echoing softly around him.
"Are we seeing humanity's salvation…or the final nail in our coffin?"
He asked quietly, half to himself. Graves didn't reply immediately. Instead, he straightened slowly, a lifetime of military discipline reasserting itself as his eyes narrowed, determination creeping into his voice.
"It doesn't matter. This changes everything. If humanity has any chance left, it's onboard that vessel."
Caldwell exhaled slowly, his face hardened with the realization of their new, desperate reality.
His gaze shifted from face to face, lingering on each one, their eyes pleading silently for hope, direction, anything.
"Then open every remaining communication channel we have,"
He finally commanded, voice firm despite the tremor beneath.
"Transmit a message to that ship. Beg them if you have to. Plead if you must. But get them to respond. Because right now…"
He turned back to the screen, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper of desperate resolve.
"Whoever controls that ship, controls the fate of humanity."
And as his words echoed through the bunker, the massive vessel hovered serenely above the dying E*rth, indifferent to the pleas, fears, and hopes of those left behind.
...
In the Eastern Bloc's deeply buried underground command bunker, desperation mirrored that of their counterparts in the West.
Generals, political figures, and scientists alike stared, open mouthed and silent, at the staggering visual on their damaged screens the colossal arrowhead shaped vessel looming ominously above their broken world.
"Contact it,"
the Eastern Bloc leader rasped, his voice strained, eyes bloodshot from exhaustion and despair. "Transmit on every frequency. I don't care if you have to beg, plead, or threaten, get them to respond!"
But before his orders could be executed, every surviving electronic device on E*rth, screens, radios, tablets, phones, monitors abruptly flickered to life.
The panicked chatter in bunkers across the globe fell silent, replaced by a universal hush of disbelief and awe as an image resolved clearly.
Invicta cosplaying like a true g*dess Incarnate because that was the whole point, sitting casually yet regally in her captain's chair.
She lounged comfortably, long, bare athletic legs crossed, eyes gleaming mischievously. Her sleek, form fitting hellenic toga emphasized her perfect artificial form, each curve and angle capturing the attention of billions.
"Hey there,"
She purred smoothly, black lipstick covered lips curving into a dangerously playful smile.
"You're probably wondering who I am."
She paused dramatically, letting the silence draw tight, gripping her audience with effortless ease.
"I'm what you'd call a g*d,"
She continued nonchalantly, fingers tapping lightly against her armrest.
"But not the bearded dude sitting in some heavenly palace, passing judgments or whatever stories you've concocted. Nah, I'm flesh and blood to be precise Im more real than anything you've ever worshipped."
Her smile widened into something both wicked and deeply amused.
"I'm the one who created you dumb meatbags. Remember those overgrown lizards you call dinosaurs? Yeah, I wiped them out. Bored of them, really. Then I crafted Adam and Eve so, in a very literal sense, I am your mother."
Invicta leaned forward slightly, her piercing gaze cutting through the screens, boring into the souls of every human watching.
"I've observed every pathetic war you've started. I've watched your petty civilizations rise from dust and fall back into ash. I've lived among you, seen your greatest triumphs, and your most laughable failures. Honestly, it was entertaining... until you decided to nuke yourselves into oblivion like the primitive apes you truly are."
She sighed melodramatically, shaking her head in mock disappointment.
"Truly, you are my greatest failure, my biggest mistake. But fortunately for you,"
Her voice softened slightly, almost affectionately.
"One of your kind caught my attention. Thanks to him and his adorable pleading and a lot of wild and passionate s*x, I've decided to show a tiny sliver of mercy."
Her tone sharpened abruptly, voice becoming razor edged steel.
"Rejoice, humanity, because I will take exactly two million of you with me. No more, no less."
A cold smirk formed on her flawless lips.
"And to the pathetic governmental pricks who caused all of this devastation? Sorry, not sorry, I'm not taking any of you. You can choke on radiation and your worthless pride for all I care. I'm only interested in humanity's finest, the brightest minds, the strongest bodies, and the purest souls."
Her eyes glittered dangerously, her voice dripping with icy threat.
"Don't bother trying to sneak onboard if your hands are dirty. Every crime, every cruelty, every act of selfishness you've committed, I have it recorded in perfect detail. And if, by some idiotic impulse, any of you entertain the thought of taking my ship by force..."
She chuckled softly, humorless, terrifying.
"Well, you'll meet my hubby, and believe me, he'll make mincemeat out of every last one of you."
With one final, lingering glance of predatory amusement, Invicta leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs again with casual elegance.
"See you soon, humanity,"
She purred softly, her voice barely above a whisper yet heard clearly by all.
"Make your choices wisely."
The broadcast abruptly ceased, plunging humanity back into stunned, terrified silence as the enormous vessel continued hovering serenely, utterly indifferent to the chaos and desperation below.
...
"A g*d? This is absurd!"
In the eastern blocks underground bunker barked General Sergei Ivanov, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Some lunatic with advanced tech is playing us!"
He paced the bunker, glaring at the screens as though his fury could silence the unsettlingly confident voice of Invicta.
His aide, a young lieutenant, wiped sweat from his brow nervously.
"But, sir, our intelligence couldn't even detect that ship until now..."
"Quiet!"
Ivanov snapped.
"I won't entertain this nonsense. We must find the source and disable it. Track that signal!"
Yet, beneath his bravado, desperation began to creep into his voice. He glanced again at the screen, haunted by Invicta's unwavering eyes, knowing deep inside that their technology was useless against whatever power hovered menacingly above.
In the Western Bloc, deep within the shattered remnants of a presidential bunker, President Caldwell stared at the flickering screen, his jaw tight with suppressed rage and denial.