The air inside the military transport was thick with tension, a quiet hum of engines underscoring the gravity of the mission. Dr. Elena Voss sat apart from the others, her sharp eyes fixed on the tablet in her hands. She scrolled through raw telemetry data from the crash site, trying to make sense of readings that defied everything she understood about physics.
"First alien contact, and they drop a skyscraper into the ocean," she muttered under her breath. Her voice carried just enough to catch the attention of General Nathan Price, seated across the aisle.
"You call that a skyscraper?" Price said, his tone dry. "That thing's a mountain. And I'd bet it's not here for sightseeing."
Elena glanced up, unimpressed. "And you're betting what? That shooting at it will somehow help?"
Price's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Their uneasy alliance had been forced—science and military, two opposing sides of the same crisis. She returned to her tablet, dismissing him with a curt shrug.
The transport jolted suddenly, and a young corporal muttered a curse. Elena tightened her grip on the seat as turbulence rattled through the cabin. Through the small window, she caught her first glimpse of the alien vessel. She froze, unable to process the sheer magnitude of the ship.
It rose out of the boiling Pacific like a monolith, its upper half stretching far into the stratosphere. Steam billowed from its submerged sections, mingling with clouds darkened by ash and debris. The alien architecture was both seamless and fragmented—smooth metallic ridges broken by jagged spires that glowed faintly. It felt alive, like a slumbering giant.
The transport circled lower, turbulence growing as electromagnetic interference from the ship played havoc with their systems. The pilot's voice crackled through the intercom. "Final approach. Buckle up. This air's worse than we expected."
Elena's stomach lurched as the transport descended sharply, landing on a makeshift zone near the coast. The ramp lowered with a groan, and a wave of humid, electrified air hit her, carrying with it a faint hum that resonated in her chest.
"Dr. Voss," Price said, gesturing for her to follow. "Welcome to Ground Zero."
---
The devastation was worse than Elena had imagined. Entire coastal villages had been obliterated, leaving skeletal remains of structures and debris fields stretching miles inland. Relief teams worked frantically to recover survivors, but the scale of destruction dwarfed their efforts. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burnt debris and saltwater.
Amidst this chaos, one figure moved unnoticed.
Zeke Matsuda crouched in the shadow of a crumbled pier, his eyes fixed on the ship in the distance. He had survived the tsunami by sheer luck, clinging to a piece of debris as the waters dragged him inland. Now, as helicopters and drones buzzed overhead, he felt an inexplicable pull toward the alien vessel.
It wasn't just curiosity. It was compulsion.
The hum of the ship seemed to whisper to him, a sound just beyond the edge of comprehension. He couldn't explain it, even to himself. All he knew was that he had to get closer. Against all reason, Zeke began to move toward it, slipping past checkpoints and patrols with an ease that surprised even him.
---
At the crash site, Elena set up her equipment on a rickety metal table, frustrated by the constant electromagnetic interference. Every reading came back scrambled, and even visual drones struggled to stay aloft near the vessel.
"This isn't interference," she said, frowning at her monitor. "It's… deliberate. The ship is emitting a low-frequency signal. It's like it wants us to know it's here."
"And how do you interpret 'deliberate'?" Price asked, standing nearby with his arms crossed.
"Communication," she replied. "Or a warning."
Her fingers danced over the controls as she adjusted the sensitivity of her instruments. Each adjustment brought back the same maddening results—patterns that defied conventional analysis. The signal was too precise to be random, but too alien to decipher.
Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion. Soldiers near the waterline shouted as the hum from the ship intensified, reverberating through the air like a deep, resonant chord.
Zeke had arrived.
Elena turned just in time to see the young man standing at the edge of the perimeter, his gaze locked on the ship. Before anyone could stop him, he stepped forward, ignoring shouts and warnings.
"What the hell is he doing?" Price barked, reaching for his radio.
Zeke moved with purpose, his expression vacant yet resolute. Each step brought him closer to the ship until a glowing symbol appeared on its hull, pulsing in rhythm with the hum. The symbol shifted and twisted, its alien geometry hypnotic, like it was alive.
"Get him back!" Price ordered, but it was too late.
Without warning, the ship emitted a blinding pulse of energy.
---
Elena's knees buckled as the wave of energy swept through the area. Soldiers and scientists alike cried out, collapsing under the invisible force. Electronics shorted out, sparks flying as equipment overloaded. The air crackled with static, and a low, resonant hum filled their ears like a deafening roar.
Through the chaos, Elena saw Zeke standing untouched. He stared at the glowing symbol, his body rigid, as though suspended in time.
"Zeke!" someone shouted, but he didn't move.
With a flash of light, Zeke vanished.
The energy pulse ceased immediately, and silence fell like a heavy blanket. Electronics rebooted with a series of sharp whines, and the oppressive hum disappeared. The air grew still, almost eerily so.
Elena staggered to her feet, her mind racing. "What just happened?" she demanded, looking around at the others.
Price was already barking orders, his voice sharp and controlled. "Get me a headcount! Someone figure out what the hell just happened to that kid!"
But before anyone could respond, the ship reacted again.
A section of the hull shifted, its seamless surface peeling back like liquid metal. The movement was both graceful and unsettling, a dance of alien technology that defied understanding. A doorway formed in the center, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.
The message was clear.
It was inviting them in.
---
The team approached cautiously, their steps measured and their voices hushed. Elena kept her eyes on the glowing doorway, her heart pounding in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to stop, to run, but the scientist in her refused.
"This isn't just an invitation," she said quietly, glancing at Price. "It's a test."
Price's expression was grim. "A test of what?"
Elena didn't answer. Her focus was on the symbols etched around the doorway, their alien patterns shifting subtly, almost imperceptibly. She reached out with a trembling hand, her fingertips brushing against the air just inches from the glowing threshold.
The hum returned, softer this time, like a gentle vibration in her bones. She pulled her hand back, her breathing shallow. "It's reacting to us," she said.
Price motioned for his team to stand by, his voice low but firm. "We're not going in blind. Secure the perimeter. Dr. Voss, you'll stay here until we know it's safe."
Elena opened her mouth to protest but stopped when the doorway shifted again. The glow dimmed slightly, and the hum grew louder, more insistent. It wasn't waiting for them—it was urging them forward.
"We don't have time for hesitation," Elena said, stepping forward.
Price grabbed her arm. "You don't call the shots here, Doctor."
"Then let me do my job," she snapped. "If this is first contact, we can't respond with fear. This is why I'm here, General."
Their standoff was interrupted by another pulse from the ship, this one softer but no less commanding. It was almost… impatient.
Price released her arm, his jaw tightening. "One step at a time," he said. "And if anything goes wrong, we pull back immediately."
Elena nodded, her resolve firm. Together, they stepped into the unknown.