Chapter 6: The Alien Invasion
Since the Mana Convergence, Earth had not been the same.
Not just in the sudden eruption of supernatural power across the globe, not just in the chaos of children manifesting abilities once thought mythical, but in the way the world felt. As if the planet itself had shifted—vibrations in the sky, echoes in the atmosphere. Something had changed.
And far beyond the reach of Earth's strongest radars or mana-detecting satellites, something noticed.
The Global Authority for Supernatural Affairs (GASA) had picked up on the first signals within the year following the Convergence. Strange gravitational anomalies. Patterns in space that did not align with known celestial bodies. And then, the visual recordings: massive structures—black, silver, and reflective like oil on water—floating just beyond the moon's orbit.
They came and went in silence. No warnings. No messages. No attacks.
Earth had been seen.
GASA, already strained by the global awakening of magic and mutation, made the decision to suppress the information. Attempts to communicate had failed. The objects never moved toward Earth. They simply watched.
So GASA watched back.
Until it was too late.
It happened over Western Sudan.
The sky tore open.
At 03:21 GMT, satellites caught the moment. A tear, not of wind or weather, but of dimensional fabric—a black ellipse about seventy meters wide split the early morning clouds like a wound. Static drowned comms across a thousand-kilometer radius. Birds dropped from the air mid-flight. Mana currents spiked violently, creating auroras where none should have existed.
From that void came the first.
It didn't fall. It descended, slow and deliberate, like a king returning to his throne. No engines. No fire. Just a ripple of gravitational warping beneath its feet.
The alien stood roughly three meters tall. Its body was wrapped in segmented plates of obsidian-like chitin that shimmered like liquid under starlight. Not armor—exoskeleton. Its surface was jagged but organic, with veins of pulsing violet light threading through each segment like living circuitry.
Its legs were reverse-jointed, giving it an unnatural gait as it touched down. Long limbs, too long, moved with a weightless precision. Four fingers on each hand, clawed but flexible. No visible mouth. No eyes. Instead, a mask-like face: smooth, oval, with a single vertical slit glowing with shifting color in its center—like a living lens.
When it moved, it didn't seem to walk.
It glided through the desert
Silence spread across the desert town of Hadeem, where it landed. Then the screams began as civilians where faced with this horror.
It attacked without sound, without warning.
Its claws could slice through forged steel used in building house and Its limbs moved faster than the eye. A simple twitch of its hand sent out arcs of concussive energy that cracked roads and shattered bones and killed dozens of people. It fired nothing, yet buildings collapsed around it. It didn't roar. It didn't laugh. It simply moved forward and destroyed anything in it's sight.
The first responders—local superable volunteers—lasted less than a minute before being completely wiped out by the alien
One woman, a Fireborn named Captain Alaya Jinn, managed to land a direct hit. A molten spear of compressed flame punched into the alien's torso—and was absorbed. The light of it vanished into the alien's chest, swallowed like food. The alien paused, then raised a hand directly at the woman who just attacked it
Alaya disappeared in a pulse of violet light. No body. No ash, nothing was left of her
Just gone.
Panic turned into slaughter as civilians where killed and mascaraed by the alien and the desert was now bloody with the blood of innocent civilians left on the desert floor
The alien advanced through Hadeem, leveling blocks with its presence. Survivors ran. Drones filmed from above, broadcasting live as the black figure cut through a hospital wing, splitting walls and throwing children like leaves.
Michael sat on the edge of his bed, watching it all unfold.
He and Nicholas were safe—miles away in the suburban quiet of New York. But the screams... they reached through the screen. Emergency broadcasts played across every device. Holographic alerts glowed red above the city skyline: UNKNOWN HOSTILE ENTITY DETECTED. MANA LEVEL: UNREADABLE. TAKE SHELTER.
The feed glitched as the alien raised both hands.
A new sound finally entered the fray: a low, vibrating hum that struck the inner ear like nausea. Light bent around the creature as twin pulses of violet force spiraled out. The camera shook. Then it cut.
Another broadcast replaced it—footage from higher altitude, showing the devastation. A half-mile crater. Blackened earth. Charred rubble. Bodies. Fires with no heat. People screaming with no sound.
Then, finally, the strike team arrived.
Four figures. All wearing full mana-enhanced combat suits, sigils glowing across their chests. Elite-class Enforcers. They descended on arcs of compressed air, landing in a triangle formation.
They fought.
It wasn't graceful. It wasn't easy. The alien adapted to everything—absorbing, reflecting, countering. One Enforcer was impaled. Another was torn in half. The final two detonated localized mana bombs, sacrificing limbs to keep the creature pinned.
Eventually, they won but it came with a huge cost that even humanity didn't wish to pay
The alien lay still and died it corpse retrieved and to be studied by the government officials.
The entire battle took seven hours for the alien to be brought down. But humanity didn't have the energy to celebrate this victory and it was clear allover the world why.
The death toll: over 3,200 civilians killed and still many bodies not accounted for .
The broadcast didn't end. News anchors replaced action footage with mourning, anger, and rage. Interviews with survivors. Relatives crying. Children screaming names that would never be answered.
The public erupted. Social media exploded, as this organization that wished to suppress the government saw this as an opportunity to make there move each of them criticizing the government and it lack of protection for it's civilians which caused such a huge number of deaths from kids and adults who where killed.
"GASA lied."
"They knew about these things."
"We could've been ready."
"This wasn't an attack. This was a test."
"The decided to keep us all in the dark, do they even care about our own well-being, is there still so much the GASA are hiding from us or will the decided to tell us the truth "
Rumors spread: Were there more? Had others landed before but left no trace? Was the Mana Convergence connected to them?
GASA released a statement. Cold. Controlled.
"The hostile has been neutralized. Investigations continue. Citizens are advised to remain vigilant and not spread misinformation."
People were done listening.
That night, as the fires still burned in far reach of Hadeem and the smoke drifted across continents, Michael stood on the roof of their apartment building. Nicholas was asleep, exhausted from the fear and the endless emergency warnings.
Michael stared at the stars.
He could feel it now.
Something watching. Waiting.
And something inside him something buried, perhaps responding.
He was a Never. A powerless observer. A speck in a world of monsters and gods.
But tonight, the sky had torn open.
And Earth was no longer alone.
And all he could think of was how to protect his brother Nicole from all this.