As I strode toward one of the interrogation rooms, the heavy steps of my boots echoed through the corridor of the TIS Einherjar.
Wolf was at my side, his demeanor serious as he briefed me on the latest findings.
The glass see-through holographic tablet in Wolf's hands flickered with streams of data, displaying the comprehensive medical analysis conducted by the medical officers.
As we walked, he delved into the details.
"Imperator, the medical examinations have revealed some rather let's say shocking facts,"
Wolf began, his eyes briefly scanning the tablet before meeting mine.
"It appears that the astronauts are fundamentally similar to us, with a few key differences."
He swiped through the holographic screens, bringing up detailed biological charts.
"Unlike us, they lack the additional organs we possess – the ones implanted during our growth in the cloning vats. There's no sign of any cybernetic enhancements or the genetic resequencing that we undergo during our embryo stage to remove any defects and optimize our genome to the fullest."
Basically, they're humans from Earth.
I thought In my mind.
Wolf continued.
"Their genetic makeup is untouched, unoptimized. It's as if they've developed naturally, without the interventions we're accustomed to."
Reaching the interrogation room, I paused, contemplating the implications, because I knew that I transmigrated from a virtual reality game the fact that there are humans that are exactly the same as the ones that created the game In another galaxy Is just, well It stinks of conspiracy.
I thought as I unbuttoned my collar and started scratching my for some reason Itchy grosteque 360-degree barbed wire scar adorning my neck.
Wait a minute why did I get this scar as a cosmetic In the first place?
I froze as this question came to my mind, there seemed to be a memory behind It yet no matter how I tried to remember It I just couldn't, It was as If that memory was stripped away from me and locked deep In my subconscious mind by someone.
And I didn't like that one bit the feeling that someone was toying with my life Infuriated me to no end.
"Open It!"
I barked angrily as I did one of the fully geared up and armed cosmic marines grabbed the blast doors hatch, swung It downwards, and pushed Inside revealing a male astronaut only In his flight suit sitting on an alloy chair with his elbows resting on the alloy table In front of him.
The astronaut's reaction upon seeing me was palpable.
His eyes widened, and his body tensed, a clear mix of fear and awe washing over his face.
The sight of me – a towering figure, clad in the uniform of a high-ranking officer, stripping off my coat and hat, revealing the form-fitting black service jacket beneath – seemed to both intimidate and fascinate him.
For a moment, he seemed to forget his predicament, his gaze locked onto mine.
There was something in his eyes – a mixture of disbelief and a desperate attempt to understand his situation.
It was as if he was seeing something straight out of a science fiction story, and his mind was struggling to catch up with the reality that was unfolding before him.
"You... What are you?"
He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The fear was evident, but there was also a hint of curiosity. To him, I must have seemed like an entity from another world – similar in form, yet so different in presence.
So he speaks English huh what a surprise I scoffed In my mind as I removed the universal translator from my right ear while I chose not to answer immediately, instead taking a moment to observe him.
He was typical of what I knew of astronauts – fit, with a determined look, even in the face of fear.
But there was something more, a resilience in his blue eyes that spoke of rigorous training and a deep-seated commitment to his mission.
His gaze darted briefly to the gloves and officers hat I put on the table, then to the coat I had hung on the alloy chair facing him.
It was clear he was trying to make sense of me, to find some ground of familiarity or understanding in a situation that was beyond anything he had been prepared for.
"Name,"
I said In my usual cold voice devoid of any emotion as I started rhythmically tapping my Index finger Into the alloy table after I sat down on the chair.
The astronaut swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly, he glanced at the fully geared-up marines by the door, then back at me.
"John Avery, sir I... I'm just an astronaut,"
he said, his voice gaining a bit of strength.
"I don't know what you want from me."
It was clear from his reaction that he was out of his depth, thrust into a scenario that was as dangerous as it was surreal.
Yet, there was no immediate sense of aggression from him, only a deep-seated desire to understand and perhaps to survive.
"Whats s*artans 1*7s name?"
I asked out of the blue only for John to blurt out subconsciously.
"J*hn"
Hearing this I sighed while leaning Into the alloy chair because this was all I needed to know that this was basically E*rth, but the fact remained that I was clearly in another galaxy, I already confirmed that.
Einherjars sensors said It In black and blue yet somehow another E*rth Inhabited by humans that were no different from my real body existed In another galaxy.
It was either one big cosmic joke or my dying subconsciousness was playing a prank on me, I wouldn't be surprised If I was actually dying in my gaming capsule right now.
"S... Sir are you an alien or a human?"
John who couldn't hold his curiosity back anymore asked cautiously.
"What do you think?"
I asked back while smirking evily which creeped out the f*ck out of John.
...
As Nole Ksum, a wealthy entrepreneur with a deep passion for astronomy, sat in his private observatory, he was blissfully unaware of the gag order that Thrae's leaders had imposed.
This order, a desperate attempt to control the narrative, forbade government-owned astronomical departments from using their telescopes to observe the skies unless they had the highest clearance.
The leaders had hoped to keep the public in the dark about the extraordinary events unfolding in orbit around Thrae.
But they had forgot one crucial truth, however, that in an era where even private individuals could own powerful telescopes, controlling such information would be nearly impossible.
Nole's observatory was equipped with a state-of-the-art telescope, on par with those used by NASA.
This evening, like many others, he had set out to gaze at the stars, completely unaware of the government's efforts to shield the public from the truth.
As he adjusted his telescope towards the International Space Station (ISS), expecting the usual view of the orbiting lab, he was struck by an astonishing sight.
There, in clear view, was a massive battleship, its size and design unlike anything known to human engineering.
It hovered ominously near the ISS that was still venting small amounts of atmosphere, a sight so shocking that Nole's glass of whiskey slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor.
He blinked, shook his head, and looked again, but the image remained unchanged. The battleship was real.
Realizing the significance of his discovery, Nole knew he had to act quickly. He connected his telescope to his T account, a popular social media platform, and downloaded the high-resolution image.
With a sense of urgency and disbelief, he composed a post: "#AlienSpaceship, #ISSVentingAtmosphere" and hit 'publish.'
...
In a modest apartment nestled in a bustling urban sprawl, Marco, a tech-savvy young man with a penchant for stargazing, was idly scrolling through his phone.
He was searching for something to break the monotony of his evening when a startling post in his social media feed grabbed his attention.