October 2, 2025. 02:33 a.m.
The first of the 17 meteorites struck planet Earth at 20 km/s, landing directly on Alberta. Though only 200 meters in diameter, its sheer velocity and impact force unleashed devastation equivalent to 600,000 tons of TNT, annihilating everything within 50 km and sending a fading effect up to 1,000 km.
Vincent Reyes was fixing a bug in his messy code when it happened. The empty cans of Red Bull on his desk jumped and scattered on the floor, but with his impressive reflexes, he managed to keep the new one from spilling.
Notifications streamed from Twitter and Discord before he could even open his phone. The planetfall had the media hyped with how much attention it garnered.
And his best friend was sending him a wall of text, talking about how his satellite had caught it all in 4K.
Dandadandan: My Bibi died!!! 😭
Dandadandan: BUT IT WAS WORTH IT.
Dandadandan: COME HELP ME TRACK ITS DATA.
Cents: Sure. Tomorrow. Fixing a bug right now.
But it would take them a few months to succeed.
In the meantime, a couple of things would happen.
First, Vincent got to see tons of videos from different angles, taken by people all over the world.
Conspiracies were in full swing—alien invasion, the end of the world, or a secret government weapon gone horribly wrong.
The voices of the people that mattered, those whose loved ones were in Alberta when it happened, were gradually drowned out.
A city had vanished overnight, but it sounded so absurd that people couldn't help but deny it.
The prime minister of Canada was equally affected, a meme of his before-and-after becoming popular despite the gravity of the situation.
Yet only a few days later, two more would land without warning—one in Kansas and the other in the Netherlands.
The whole world seemed to freeze for a second.
The internet was quiet before a storm of question marks swept across all social media platforms.
But it wasn't over.
Within that week, more and more meteorites made planetfall with some luckily landing in oceans. But a large number of them were obliterating cities and smaller countries, throwing the natural order out of balance.
In a hasty form of union, second and first world countries attempted to band together and provide support to those who needed it most.
A few months passed, and Vincent kept coming back to his friend's house to help. On the 77th day, yesterday, the satellite's data finally finished rendering.
Winter was in full swing. The world was white, and he wrapped himself in his black winter coat while waiting on the porch of the Gilroys' mansion, reading an article.
[Global Meteorite Relief Fund Disbanded Amid Corruption Scandal]
With a snort, he switched to something else. Though he resisted the urge to add a sarcastic remark, Vincent's face expressed his lack of trust in the modern government.
Scrolling down Twitter, videos of meteorite sightings and their destruction were still dominating his feed.
But one outlier caught his eye.
A video had been taken by a brave (or foolish) streamer who managed to get past security and film the first meteorite from a distance.
The site had cooled to a manageable temperature in about two months. All kinds of experts were gathering to take samples, evaluating environmental impact, and making sense of what the meteorite was.
The streamer couldn't contain themselves, snickering and commenting about how easy it was to sneak in. They had made an exact replica of the IDs being used on-site. With good acting skills and believable confidence, they passed the security check without any issues.
But after a few minutes, a staff member in a hazmat suit found them. With how little preparation the streamer had made to protect themselves, it was easy to determine that they didn't belong.
The staff screamed for them to leave, calling for security while sounding incredulous that someone would risk their life in a biohazard environment.
But at that moment, someone on-site triggered a Code Black alarm—a code for an alien sighting.
Normally, no one would take it seriously, but with how many meteorites had fallen from an unknown origin, the staff stumbled back in fear.
Before the people on-site could react, however, a monstrous growl resounded in the air.
In an instant, that growl rose into a distorted, drawn-out, vibrating bellow, visibly fluctuating the surroundings, flinging the tents away, and cracking the streamer's phone camera.
Vincent briefly caught sight of a towering, fiery moose before the video was cut off.
Then the door opened.
An 18-year-old man with short reddish hair, white skin, and light brown eyes grinned at him in greeting. He had a large physique for someone his age, but Vincent was tall and muscular enough not to appear lanky next to him.
Vincent was also 18, had shaggy black hair, black eyes, and slightly tanned skin. Though he was Filipino, half of his blood was Canadian. And he usually seemed out of place beside others from his homeland.
"Did you check the news?! Feels like the world is ending! I just ordered a lot of canned and dried goods yesterday. You never know what might happen." Daniel Radford Gilroy opened the doors wide, letting him in.
"Might as well go full doomsday prepping. Where's your truck? Let's buy essentials at Costco. And what's the deal with that fiery moose?"
"Oh, he's not alone. There's a panda in China, an eagle in the US, and a tiger in India. I bet there's more, but footage of those four is going viral. They all have different elements by the way. And the alien conspiracy theorists are claiming that it has to be an alien virus causing the mutation."
"They're focusing on the wrong thing. They should start questioning if it's airborne instead."
Caught in Daniel's energy, Vincent rushed along with him to their studio on the second floor, both taking the stairs two steps at a time.
The room looked more like a geek lab, with gadgets displayed on shelves and some sprawled on long tables.
VR headsets from the five most popular brands occupied one table, as the vision they had for their game required them to make sure it would work seamlessly on any system.
Three PC setups lined one side of the wall, one of which was geared for a streamer.
Daniel didn't waste time. Using the PC on the far right, he showed Vincent what his satellite had caught.
Bibi (as Daniel named it) was at the right angle to capture a black and purple vortex swirling in space. The first meteorite emerged from it, and Bibi started trailing it based on Daniel's parameters—this was obviously something out of the ordinary.
Its speed soon reached 20 km/s. Bibi was glitching, and its systems were failing trying to catch up, but it caught the moment of impact—the city of Alberta disintegrating in a matter of seconds.
The roughly $100 million CAD satellite died right after, caught by the countless debris launched into space by the explosion.
"Fuck," Vincent exhaled. "How are we with privacy? The military might kill us just to get this video."
"It's alright. I already sent it to Dad. He knows what to do… But what now? Isn't that... a portal?"
"I am more than 90% sure it is."
Vincent frowned. He had helped with the recovery of the data, so his trust in Bibi was as if he had seen what it captured with his own eyes. His gut wrenched—too many apocalyptic mangas flashed in his mind.
"Get your truck. I think we've had enough signs for a possible apocalypse."
"Alright. But do you really think this isn't some elaborate prank?"
Right as they were about to leave, the door swung open.
"You assholes didn't invite me again?!"
A 17-year-old girl with dyed platinum blonde wavy hair, blue contacts, white skin and an overall sexy goth look strutted in with her 10 cm tall heeled boots.
Daniel slightly hid behind Vincent, his muscles taut, ready to sacrifice Vincent as a shield in case his younger sister started hitting him again.
"Weren't you with Talia? Shouldn't girls hate to part with shopping? Guess your crush is more important, huh..." he murmured despite himself.
Angel Mae Gilroy stomped forward, hand raised to give him a smack, but Daniel quickly used his shield.
Vincent snickered, a smile lingering. Calmly, he caught Angel's wrist and lowered it down, finding little to no resistance.
"Great timing. Come with us. You can't trust two dudes to buy your feminine necessities."
Angel pouted, but her hands behaved, resting on her hips instead. "Why are we stocking up?"
"Daniel's Bibi showed how the first meteorite went through a portal. It's better we treat this as 10x worse than COVID… Though I personally wouldn't compare the two."
"Portal? Are we really being invaded??" She looked doubtful but despite sounding skeptic, she obediently switched to her flat boots, ready to leave.
"Who knows? Maybe it's just some extraterrestrial who has the ability to throw rocks." Daniel shrugged, grinning.
Angel rolled her eyes.
"Doesn't matter. Daniel and I both know we didn't program Bibi to animate stunning 3d effects."
"Damn right." Daniel nodded.
"Let's go."
The siblings had gotten used to following Vincent's lead. Within an hour, they were inside Costco, swimming through the crowd who were either influenced by the media or were genuinely paranoid.