The silver dome above Luminalis had never failed—not in the twenty years since Kael Drayen was born. It had withstood meteors, solar flares, and storms that could have wiped out entire continents. Beneath its shimmering glow, humanity had built a fragile sense of peace.
But tonight, that peace shattered.
Kael stood on the edge of the observation deck at Nexus Tower, watching as veins of crimson light spread across the sky. The lines pulsed faintly, glowing like the embers of a dying fire. Below him, the city's lights dimmed, casting Luminalis into a patchwork of shadow and confusion. The sight felt wrong, as if reality itself was unraveling.
"Kael, are you even listening?"
He blinked and turned. His mentor, Commander Jorik Veyn, was glaring at him, arms crossed over his broad chest. Jorik was everything Kael wasn't—calm, composed, and experienced. It was why Jorik had been chosen to lead Luminalis's defense forces, and why Kael had spent the last two years as his apprentice.
"I'm listening," Kael muttered, though his attention kept drifting back to the sky.
"Doesn't look like it," Jorik snapped. He gestured toward the holographic map projected in front of them. "We've got an expanding breach in the Zenith Array. Energy readings are off the charts, and we're detecting signals—non-terrestrial signals."
Kael's heart skipped a beat. Non-terrestrial. For as long as he could remember, humanity had lived under the assumption that it was alone in the universe. The Collapse had ended any hope of exploration beyond Earth's boundaries. Now, after centuries of silence, something was breaking through.
"What kind of signals?" Kael asked, forcing himself to focus.
"Patterns," Jorik replied, his tone grim. "They're too complex to be natural. We're dealing with something intelligent."
Kael nodded, though the words didn't fully register. His mind was still on the breach, the way it pulsed and flickered like a living thing. "What's the plan?"
Jorik sighed, his sharp features hardening. "We activate the Centurion Protocol. Deploy drones to monitor the rift and bring the Ascendant Guard to full alert. If this thing turns hostile, we hit it hard and fast."
Kael frowned. "And if it's not hostile?"
"Then we hope they're in the mood to talk," Jorik said, though his expression suggested he didn't believe that was likely.
Before Kael could respond, the comms unit embedded in Jorik's wrist lit up. A sharp, panicked voice came through. "Commander Veyn, we've got movement inside the rift! Multiple entities—humanoid forms. What are your orders?"
Jorik's jaw tightened. "Hold position. I'm on my way." He turned to Kael. "Stay here."
"What? No!" Kael protested, stepping forward. "I've trained for this. I can help."
"You're not ready," Jorik said firmly. "This isn't a drill, Kael. This is real. And if you screw up, people die."
Kael opened his mouth to argue, but Jorik was already gone, striding toward the exit with the confident authority of someone who had done this a hundred times before.
Left alone, Kael turned back to the observation window. The rift had grown larger, spilling crimson light across the city. His stomach twisted as he imagined what might be waiting on the other side.
He hated feeling helpless.
---
The Lower Levels
Kael had grown up in the lower sectors of Luminalis, where the city's glow didn't reach and survival meant scraping by on whatever scraps the upper levels allowed. He remembered the nights spent staring up at the dome, wondering what lay beyond it, and the countless hours he'd spent fixing broken drones just to afford a meal.
Joining the defense forces had been his way out, a chance to prove himself and leave the darkness behind. But even after years of training, he still felt like the kid from the slums—too small, too inexperienced, too unworthy.
Now, watching the rift tear through the sky, Kael couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake.
---
The Rift
"Kael!"
The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. It was Maris, one of the tower's technicians and one of the few people in Luminalis who actually treated him like a human being. She rushed up to him, her short auburn hair sticking to her forehead. "You need to see this."
She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward a nearby console. The screen showed a magnified view of the rift, its crimson light now pulsing in slow, deliberate waves. Shapes moved within it—indistinct at first, but growing clearer with each passing second.
"What are those?" Kael asked, leaning closer.
"Humanoid, maybe," Maris replied, her voice shaking. "But look at the energy readings."
She pointed to a set of graphs on the side of the screen. The levels were spiking, higher than anything Kael had seen before.
"Whatever they are," Maris continued, "they're not from here."
Kael stared at the shapes, his pulse quickening. They were humanoid, but wrong. Their bodies shimmered like liquid metal, constantly shifting between solid and fluid. Their movements were slow, deliberate, as if testing the boundary between their world and his.
Suddenly, one of the figures stopped. Its head turned, and Kael felt a jolt of terror as its glowing eyes locked onto the camera.
It knew they were watching.
"Maris," Kael said slowly, "can we send this feed to Jorik?"
"I already did," she replied, her hands flying over the console. "But I think we have a bigger problem."
"What now?"
Maris pointed to another screen. The energy levels were spiking again, but this time, they weren't coming from the rift. They were coming from the dome itself.
Before Kael could react, the floor beneath them trembled. A low, rumbling sound echoed through the tower, followed by the unmistakable wail of alarms.
"Rupture detected," said an automated voice over the intercom. "Emergency containment measures activated."
Kael's stomach dropped. The dome was failing.
---
First Contact
The observation window flickered, and Kael turned just in time to see one of the figures step through the rift. It moved like liquid, its body rippling as it passed into their world. The air around it shimmered, bending light and warping sound.
"Kael…" Maris whispered, taking a step back.
The figure raised an arm, and Kael's vision blurred. For a moment, he couldn't see or hear—only feel. A deep, resonant hum filled his chest, like the vibration of a massive engine.
Then, a voice.
"Your time is over."
The words echoed in his mind, cold and final.
When Kael's vision cleared, the figure was gone. But the rift remained, pulsing brighter than ever.
And Kael knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning.