x
Springing from bed, they rushed to the window, hearts thudding in unison.
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The backyard was unrecognizable.
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A massive crater split the earth, glowing with a pulsing, unnatural light—like it was alive, like it was calling.
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“Was that a meteor?” Kyra whispered, eyes wide, face bathed in the surreal glow.
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Evan stared, pulse hammering. “I… I think so.”
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They scrambled to dress—Kyra yanking on her robe like armor, Evan pulling on boxers in a frenzy. Every second felt like it was slipping through their fingers.
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“First an earthquake, now this?” Evan muttered, flinging the back door open. “What the hell is going on?”
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The air outside was electric—charged with something they couldn’t name. Something bigger than either of them.
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The crater pulsed like it was breathing—veins of crimson and electric blue crawling along its edges, painting the night in something far from natural. The air buzzed, heavy with static and something older than language. Evan and Kyra slowed, awestruck, the glow casting otherworldly shadows across their skin.
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Then—
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“Howdy, neighbor!”
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The cheery voice cut through the moment like a jagged knife.
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“¡Ay, carajo!” Kyra jumped, spinning around with her hand clutched to her chest. “Dios mío, you scared the hell outta me!”
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Their neighbor stood just beyond the fence, leaning casually on the post like he’d always been there—like he belonged in the glow of this unreal crater. His eyes were hidden behind reflective sunglasses, even in the dead of night.
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“Sorry, Kyra,” he said with a grin that didn’t touch the rest of his face. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Just saw the lightshow and figured I’d stop by. Is this Evan?”
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Evan took a step forward, half-shielding Kyra with his body. “Yeah, I’m Evan. And you are...?”
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The man ignored the question, still smiling. “He looks like an Evan. Strong jaw, wild eyes. You can tell a lot by a man's posture.”
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Kyra narrowed her eyes. “How do you even know his name?”
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“Lucky guess,” the man said with a lazy shrug. “Besides, you talk in your sleep sometimes. Hard not to pick up on a few names.”
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Kyra’s face shifted from confused to alarmed in an instant. “¿¡Qué carajo!? Excuse me?! How the hell would you know that? We live a mile apart.”
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The man chuckled, tilting his head like a curious bird. “Sound travels on cool nights, Kyra. And last night?” He grinned wider. “Well, y’all weren’t exactly quiet, were you? Passion like that carries.”
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Evan’s fists clenched, every instinct firing red. “You spying on her?”
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The neighbor smiled like he hadn’t heard him. “You should head inside. It’s not safe out here tonight. Lotta strange things happen when the sky falls.”
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Kyra stepped forward, chin high. “Óyeme bien, pendejo—you keep talking slick like that, and I’mma let mi novio handle you. You feel me?”
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The man just tipped an invisible hat. “Just neighborly advice, Miss Kyra. Wouldn’t want either of you to... get lost.”
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And with that, he turned and walked into the dark—his silhouette vanishing long before his footsteps stopped echoing.
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Evan and Kyra stared after him in silence, the glow of the crater suddenly feeling more like a warning than a wonder.
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Kyra, unshaken, lifted her phone toward the glowing crater. “I’m getting a picture of this. Ain’t no way I’m not.”
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“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice murmured—right behind them.
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Kyra spun around. “¡Pero qué carajo, bruh?!” she snapped, stepping back. “You trying to get decked?”
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Evan moved instinctively between them, his frame rigid, his eyes locked on the neighbor. “She says you’ve been creeping her out. Asking weird-ass questions. So here’s what you’re gonna do—leave her the fuck alone and get the fuck off this property. Now.”
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His voice was a low growl, simmering just beneath the surface.
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The neighbor didn’t flinch. Instead, he slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing pale, unreadable eyes. His smile faded—not gone, just... muted. “Mr. Pettway,” he said calmly, “there’s no issue here. Not unless you make one. I suggest you both go back inside. Right now.”
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Evan’s jaw clenched. “How the fuck do you know my name?” His words came sharp, but unease coiled beneath them. “You better start talking before I really lose my patience.”
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The neighbor tilted his head slightly. “That’s not the question you should be asking.” He nodded toward the crater, now pulsing faster, almost alive. “That’s what you should be worrying about.”
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Evan’s fist balled tighter. “I don’t give a damn about the crater right now. You’re the problem.”
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“Evan…” Kyra’s voice softened. She stepped up beside him, her hand brushing his tense arm. “Let’s just go inside. Por favor.”
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But Evan didn’t budge. “Nah. This dude’s been lurking around your house, asking about secret government shit, and now he’s pulling this?” His voice rose. “Nah, fuck that. I’m not just walking away.”
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As he stepped forward, the ground near the crater shuddered. A deep thrum vibrated through the air—like a living pulse, calling. Evan’s breath caught. His anger paused mid-beat. He turned toward it, something ancient and magnetic tugging at the edge of his soul.
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It wasn’t just light anymore.
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It was calling him.
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The neighbor’s smile vanished completely, replaced by a tight, dangerous expression. “Inside. Now,” he snapped.
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Kyra grabbed Evan’s wrist. “Babe… let’s go. Something’s wrong. Like really wrong.”
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Evan’s eyes stayed on the crater, drawn in like a moth to a flame. He nodded slowly, but stepped fowaed, pulse still thrumming from whatever that thing had done to him.
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Behind them, the neighbor pulled out a sleek black phone and raised it to his ear.
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Evan didn’t move—not because he was afraid, but because he couldn’t. Something in the air held him. Not physically, not quite. But spiritually, supernaturally.
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Like the night had wrapped invisible strings around his chest and whispered:
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You’re not ready.
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“Babe, vámonos!” Kyra shouted from the doorway, panic sharp in her voice. “Now!”
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Evan turned, chest heaving. “Kyra… I can’t!”
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“What?” she cried, eyes wide, already halfway to him.
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“I—” He gritted his teeth, every muscle straining. “I can’t move!” The force gripping him felt like invisible roots coiled around his bones, anchoring him to the spot.
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Kyra froze, fear crackling in the air between them.
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The neighbor, now several steps behind, slammed his phone to his ear. “Goddammit! I told you to get them inside! M63’s locked onto him—he’s caught in the vortex!”
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He turned toward Evan. “Don’t move! And Kyra, stay back!”
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But Kyra didn’t hesitate. “¡No me jodas!” she hissed, running to Evan’s side, her love outweighing fear.
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The neighbor lunged for her—too late.
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As soon as her hand touched Evan’s arm, she gasped. Her legs locked. Her body seized.
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“Ay, Dios...! I—I can’t move either!” she cried, her eyes wild.
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“FUCK!” the neighbor roared, pacing in a tight circle. “I fucking told you not to get closer!” His face contorted with rage and dread, veins pulsing at his temple.
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He pointed a trembling finger at Evan, voice suddenly cold. “You should’ve listened when I called you Mr. Pettway. You think that was a coincidence? You think any of this is?”
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Evan’s breath quickened, panic rising. “Who the hell are you?”
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The neighbor’s eyes glinted with something unreadable. “You should’ve stayed in Florida. If you had, this could’ve ended quietly.”
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He took a step forward, his silhouette flickering unnaturally in the pulsing glow of the crater.
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“But now?” he said, voice low, grim. “Now you and your girl are part of something you don’t understand. And trust me—you’re already too deep to climb out.”
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Evan, trapped in confusion and fear, shouted, "What... That was you who called me? ... Who the hell are you?"
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Smirking with a hint of arrogance, the neighbor glanced at both of them. "Well, since you won't be leaving this place and won't hear this story elsewhere... My name is..."
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Evan, trapped in invisible binds and spiraling fear, shouted, “What… that was you who called me? Who the hell are you?!”
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The neighbor—no, the man—smirked, the glow of the crater flickering against his face like firelight dancing over something rotten.
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“Well,” he said, tone shifting into mock sympathy, “since you’re not going anywhere—and let’s be real, you’re not—might as well let you in on a little secret.”
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He turned fully toward them, voice smooth, practiced, and smug.
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“The name’s Agent Clark. Secret Agent Clark. And I was dispatched to this ‘quiet’ little town with a very specific mission—secure Unit M63.”
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Kyra’s brow furrowed, breath short. “What the fuck is Unit M63?”
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Clark gestured lazily to the crater. “That. Right there. That’s M63. My job was to watch the skies, track the descent, secure the landing zone... and monitor for any local interference. Unfortunately, that includes nosy pedestrians. Like you two.”
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Evan’s voice cracked as he pushed through the rising panic. “Wait—wait. What is M63?!”
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Clark’s eyes lit up. Not kindled with excitement, but ego. Power. He was enjoying this.
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“M63,” he said, drawing the name out like a holy mantra, “is what we now call Project Mazekiel. A cosmic anomaly. A sentient fragment of something not of this world.”
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He took a step closer, lowering his sunglasses. “This project has been quietly developing for eighty years. Eighty. Generations of research, billions of dollars in hidden budgets, technology stolen, traded, reverse-engineered. A few lucky accidents. And of course… help from an external source.”
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"Who are 'we'? The government?" Evan presses, the tremor in his voice betraying the sense of impending doom curling in his gut.
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Clark chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating like distant thunder. "Oh, sweet, ignorant Evan. You're in the middle of something much deeper than that. Let’s just say, not all of our collaborators are Earth-based.”
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Kyra whispered, “Not Earth based… like aliens?”
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Clark’s smile widened "Something like that."
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Evan’s mouth was dry. “So what... you’re with the government?”
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Clark barked a laugh—harsh and humorless.
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“Oh, Evan.” He tilted his head, like a disappointed teacher. “You still think this is about your government? No. I’m with them. The real ‘them.’”
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He paused, letting the silence stretch until it ached.
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“The Silent Society. Shadow government. The Unseen Hand. The Illuminati. Pick your poison. We’ve been called a lot of things over the centuries. But whatever label you slap on us, we’re the ones pulling the strings behind every major decision your elected puppets think they made on their own.”
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Evan’s stomach churned. “And… this was all planned?”
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Clark’s voice turned sharp. “Not just planned. Engineered. And now you and your girlfriend have stumbled into something you were never supposed to see. And that… complicates things.”
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Evan fell silent, stunned. His jaw locked, chest rising and falling as the world seemed to twist sideways around him. His heart hammered, breath shallow. What the hell was this? What the hell was any of this?
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“This specimen,” Clark said smoothly, like he was giving a fucking TED Talk, “isn’t just any ordinary comet. As you may have gathered by now, it predates the very existence of the universe itself. It existed before God spoke the light into being.”
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Kyra blinked—and snapped.
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“¿¡Tú estás loco, verdad!? You sound fucking retarded!” she spat, her voice sharp and furious despite being unable to move. “Are you seriously claiming there were comets before the fucking universe even existed?!”
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She couldn't step forward. Couldn’t even throw up her hands like she wanted to. Her body was frozen—completely paralyzed from the neck down—but her mouth was working just fine.
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Her voice rang out like fire cracking in a silent room.
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Clark’s smile dropped. His tone turned venomous.
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“No, you ignorant bitch,” he said slowly, like he enjoyed dragging every syllable. “But you know what? I’m glad I get to eliminate both of you now. Gives me the chance to say what I’ve wanted since the moment I saw you. That mouth of yours—always running, always snapping, always acting like you own the damn room. I can’t tell if it’s your Latina pride or if you’re just a fucking cunt.”
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Kyra’s eyes widened with pure rage. Her neck twitched as she tried to lunge at him—but her body wouldn't budge.
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“¿Perdón? ¡Hijo de puta! You’ve been creeping around my house, asking weird-ass questions, spying on me like some freak, and you wanna act like I’m the fucking problem?! ¡Chinga tu madre, maldito enfermo!”
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Clark let out a slow, mocking laugh. “Maybe if you’d been a little more polite. I even brought you cookies, didn’t I?”
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“Cookies?! Ay, por favor, I threw that shit straight in the trash where it belonged, cabrón. What, you think I was gonna eat roofie biscuits from a pervert?!”
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“Good,” he snapped. “You didn’t need any more empty calories anyway. I should’ve brought you a salad instead.”
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Kyra’s entire face twisted. Her fingers wanted to curl into fists, her arms wanted to swing—but her body wouldn’t move.
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“FUCK YOU! ¡Vete pa'l carajo, malnacido!” she screamed, her voice trembling with fury.
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Clark stared her down, unmoved. His voice dipped lower, more chilling.
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“You remind me of my ex-wife. Had to eliminate her too. Same reason I’m going to eliminate you. Didn’t listen. Didn’t obey.”
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“IF YOU LAY A FINGER ON HER—” Evan’s voice ripped through the air, deep and burning, “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, I’LL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
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It wasn’t a threat. It was a sentence.
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His entire body shook—fists white-knuckled, jaw locked, veins standing out across his neck.
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Even the meteor pulsed louder. Harder. The energy in the air warped with fury—like it too was listening.
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Clark laughed—a dry, low sound, cold enough to scrape bone. “You’re not in a position to threaten me, Mr. Pettway. Your empty bravado… it actually amuses me.”
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Evan clenched his jaw, seething. “I swear I’ll—”
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A sharp ringtone sliced through the tension.
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Clark pulled out his phone and answered, voice clipped and coiled like a loaded spring. “Where the hell are you?... Understood. Once you’re done with that, I need you here ASAP. Yes, they’re both secured. No—it’s too late for that. They both know too much. They both need to be eliminated. A house fire will serve as the perfect cover.”
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Evan’s blood ran cold. His breath hitched. Kyra let out a sound—half scream, half sob—her voice cracking under the weight of horror.
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Clark hung up.
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He turned back to them slowly, eyes gleaming like blades, like he could already see the flames swallowing their home. “Now… where were we?”
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“Por favor, don’t kill us!” Kyra cried, her voice raw with desperation. Her body remained frozen, but her spirit fought to break free. “I’m sorry, okay?! Te lo juro—we won’t say shit, I promise! Please!”
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Clark sneered. “Do you really think I’d believe a single word from your mouth? After you threw away my cookies?”
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He took a step closer, voice rising with manic fury.
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“No wonder the GPS said you were at the fucking landfill! You threw away the gastrointestinal tracker. Do you have ANY idea how much those cost, bitch?!”
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“¡PUÑETA, VETE PA'L CARAJO!” Kyra spat, trembling in rage. “FUCK YOU! You psycho motherfucker!”
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Her voice hit him like a slap, and for a moment, he paused—just long enough for the fury to pulse through the air.
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Clark exhaled sharply. “It seems we’re not the only ones drawn to M63. A few curious yokels are making their way here from the nearby town. But don’t worry. My crew is… handling them. Once that’s done, we’ll finally deal with this little problem.”
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He turned, arms spread toward the glowing crater behind him, like a preacher delivering a sermon to hell.
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“Now. As I mentioned—this thing is older than the universe itself.”
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Evan’s voice shook, his mouth dry. “How is that even possible…?”
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Clark’s eyes glittered with something close to reverence.
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“Everything is not as it seems, Mr. Pettway. Just as solid ice melts into liquid, and boiling water transforms into steam… M63 exists in various forms. It hails from Dimension 63. It moves through the layers of reality—your universe and others. Shifting, adapting, transforming depending on the dimension it touches. It reappears every 77 million years.”
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He smiled wide, practically glowing in the crater’s pulsing light. “And now—it’s here.”
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Evan’s breath caught. “So… it just randomly landed in Kyra’s backyard?”
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Clark chuckled darkly. “Not random, Mr. Pettway. Deliberate. Carefully guided. With a little… assistance.”
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Evan’s brow furrowed. “From who? Foreign governments? Intelligence agencies?”
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Clark shook his head slowly, savoring the moment like fine wine. “No, no… Simple-minded Evan. Not humans. Not countries. Something older. Something else.”
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His voice dropped.
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“A different civilization. A different species.”
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Evan’s skin prickled. His lips parted.
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“…So… aliens?”
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Clark’s smile stretched, wide and awful.
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“Now you’re catching on.”
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“Oh yes, Mr. Pettway,” Clark said, eyes gleaming in the crater’s pulsing light. “As I told you, Project Mazikiel has been underway for nearly eighty years. M63 doesn’t just appear. It shifts dimensions—every seventy-seven million years. Unpredictable. Unreachable. Until now.”
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Evan’s voice was raw. “Wait… so aliens helped you find it?”
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Clark gave a pleased nod, as if Evan were a student finally catching on. “Exactly. Though let’s be a little more refined with our terminology. Interspatial bodies. Interdimensional entities. We’re not the only ones aware of M63’s existence—we never were. We would’ve never even known it existed if not for a signal from an external source.”
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Evan swallowed hard. “You’re saying something… out there… told you when M63 would arrive?”
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Clark clicked his tongue. “M63 was stationed in Dimension 385. Just one week away from shifting to its next reality layer. Our ‘friends’—and I use the term loosely—intercepted it before that could happen. They opened a dimensional gateway and portaled it here.”
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He raised a finger. “However… that kind of dimensional redirection? Unfathomably expensive. Energetically speaking, of course. They couldn’t send it to Earth specifically. Just to our solar system. That was our job.”
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Evan’s mind reeled. “So… you redirected it?”
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Clark nodded, smiling like it was an inside joke. “Exactly. We tracked its arc once it entered this realm. Couldn’t control the precise impact site, but we could guide it. Think of it like nudging a meteor in deep space and just hoping it hits the dartboard.”
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“And it just so happened to land in Kyra’s backyard?” Evan’s voice cracked, incredulous.
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Clark raised a smug brow. “Yes and no. It was still a randomized descent. The energy needed to move M63 was catastrophic. We altered its path, but the landing? Beyond our grasp. All we could do was prepare and observe once it hit the atmosphere.”
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Evan's stomach dropped. “If the energy was that massive… then the earthquake in Florida...”
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Clark didn’t even blink. “Yes. The shift in trajectory released enough force to displace tectonic plates.”
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Evan’s eyes widened, horror creeping in like a flood. “You… you caused that?!”
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Clark’s smirk returned with ease, polished and cruel. “Don’t go painting me the villain, Mr. Pettway. I wasn’t alone. The entire team shares the blame.”
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Evan’s mouth opened. His fists clenched. His voice trembled with disbelief. “My brother… he’s—”
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“Wa wa wa,” Clark cut in mockingly, waving his hand like a tired teacher. “Yes, yes. The tragic tale of the broken brother. A useless cripple. Spare me the guilt monologue.”
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The words landed like a punch to Evan’s gut.
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“You son of a bitch,” he growled, voice cracking under the weight of rage. “You... monster.”
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Clark stepped closer, voice calm. “Hate me all you want. I genuinely don’t care. What we stand to gain… is worth the casualties.”
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Evan’s blood boiled. His heart thundered in his chest. His breath came short and hot. With nowhere to channel the fury burning inside him, he threw his head back—
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—and let out a scream so deep, so full of grief and fury, it felt like it could shake the stars loose from the sky.
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“This doesn’t make any damn sense!” Kyra snapped, voice cutting through the crackling energy. “If this meteor is so important—why the hell would these so-called aliens give it to you instead of taking it for themselves?”
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Clark paused mid-step, glancing back at her with a smirk like he’d been waiting for that.
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“Bitch says what?”
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Kyra blinked. “What—?”
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“Gotcha!” he barked out a laugh.
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“¡Chinga tu puta madre! FUCK YOU!” Kyra shot back, eyes blazing, frozen feet be damned.
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Clark chuckled, loving every second. “You see, other dimensions? Far more chaotic and unstable than that smooth Latina brain of yours can fathom.”
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Kyra’s lip curled in disgust.
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Clark kept going, voice smooth like oil over ice. “M63's non-physical essence? It can’t be contained by organic life in their realm. It's beyond even them. Eighty years ago, these ‘interspatial friends’ approached us with a proposition: they’d deliver M63 into our physical dimension, where it could be captured in a form we could observe… and in return, they'd give us something we value just as much.”
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“Bullshit,” Kyra growled. “If it's so damn powerful that everyone in the universe wants it, you expect me to believe they'd trade it for information?”
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Clark grinned wider. “Cunt says what?”
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“ANSWER ME, CABRÓN!” Kyra screamed.
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“Hah, you’re no fun.” He waved her off. “Believe it, don’t believe it—I honestly don’t give a shit. Here’s the truth: we can’t extract its energy. We’re barely keeping it stable. Right now, M63 is throwing off gravitational distortion so bad, our sensors are shorting out trying to process it. We can capture it. We can contain it. But we can't touch what’s inside. Not yet.”
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He gestured toward the crater like he was introducing a guest speaker.
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“Our allies? They can harness its essence once contained. But they also struggle to hold it. Their dimension’s physics? Nothing like ours. Chaotic. Unstable. Constantly folding in on itself. They needed our stability. We needed their tech. A fair trade.”
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Kyra narrowed her eyes. “Still don’t buy it. If they’re so advanced, why not just shove it into a physical dimension, trap it themselves, and dip out with it? Why the hell involve us?”
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Clark sighed, mock patience bleeding from his voice. “Still don’t care if you believe me. But that was our first question too.”
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He stepped closer.
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“It’s not that simple. Transporting objects between dimensions? Easy. Instant. But living beings? That’s another game entirely. Organic transfer requires stabilization. Even for them, that takes weeks. Sometimes months. For most species, years.”
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He tapped his temple.
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“They had one week before M63 jumped again. And even if they made it here in time to capture it, they knew we’d notice. And humans?” He smiled coldly. “We don't like being outmaneuvered. We panic. We sabotage. We kill first and ask questions never. They said it outright—if we saw them taking something this powerful without including us? We’d launch every nuke we had at the sky and then call it patriotism.”
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Kyra’s jaw tightened.
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“So instead,” Clark continued, “they made a deal. They brought it here. We redirected it. They get access, we get intel, technology, guidance. Everybody walks away happy.”
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He raised a finger with smug finality.
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“Backs scratched. Bags secured. Humanity’s ego intact.”
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Evan’s jaw tightened, fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. Rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.
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“All this destruction... all this death. What the hell could be worth it?! What kind of knowledge justifies this?!”
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Clark grinned like the devil in a suit. “Ah... that, Mr. Pettway,” he said, dragging out the words, “is none of your concern.”
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His smile twisted crueler.
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“Besides—who cares? You’re about to die. Haha!”
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Kyra’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. “¿Y cuándo llegan estos bichos del infierno, huh? These interdimensional freaks—when are they showing up?!”
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Clark’s face twitched with irritation. “God, your voice is so grating.”
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He opened his mouth to answer—
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SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.
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The sound of car doors slamming ripped through the night.
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It was sharp. Violent. Like thunder cracking open a storm.
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Evan’s head jerked toward the noise.
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Kyra stiffened beside him. “¿Qué carajo fue eso...?”
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Clark’s expression lit up with something sick and giddy. “Ah... finally.”
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He glanced over his shoulder toward the driveway, then back at them.
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“They’ve arrived. Just in time.”
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He cracked his neck, slow and deliberate.
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“I was starting to get bored with you two.”
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Evan felt it then—the low murmur of voices approaching. Heavy boots on gravel. Engines still humming somewhere nearby.
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The air thickened, panic climbing into his chest like smoke through a broken window.
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