It is said that in the vast expanse of the universe, no matter how powerful a civilization may be, approximately 99% of them perish before reaching the status of a Type 1 civilization. Most of these civilizations fall victim to self-inflicted dangers, such as global warming, artificial intelligence uprisings, or nuclear warfare. Another path to extinction lies in natural calamities—catastrophic events like a massive asteroid colliding with a planet or a civilization being obliterated by a solar storm. However, beyond these two causes, there exists a third, more sinister reason for a civilization's demise before achieving Type 1 status: an attack by a more advanced, intelligent civilization. This phenomenon is often referred to as an "alien war." What would happen if our own planet, Earth, were to face such an assault by a superior alien civilization? What if a formidable extraterrestrial force attempted to steal our very sun?
In the heart of New York City's Manhattan, there once existed a vibrant neighborhood known as Greenwich Village. Nestled within this bustling enclave stood an illustrious institution, Greenwich High School, sprawling across a vast campus. The school was a paragon of educational excellence, equipped with every modern facility one could imagine in an ideal academic environment. At this moment, within the principal's office, a group of teachers sat with stern expressions, their gazes fixed on a student standing before them. Among them was the school's principal, Eric Wilson, whose piercing eyes bore into the young man with a mix of disappointment and authority.
"Michael," Principal Wilson said, his voice steady but laced with reproach, "do you admit to the offense that your teacher, Ms. Julia Adams, has accused you of committing?"
The boy standing before them, Michael Anderson, a resident of Greenwich Village, responded with a brazen smirk. "Principal Wilson, do you honestly believe an innocent boy like me could pull a prank on a teacher? Ms. Adams must have misunderstood the situation. There's no way she'd suspect me otherwise."
Michael's full name was Michael Anderson, a local whose parents had tragically passed away in his childhood. Raised by his indulgent grandfather, Michael had been granted near-total freedom, which had led to his increasingly rebellious and mischievous behavior. His grandfather never reprimanded him, allowing Michael's antics to spiral unchecked. As the teachers in the principal's office listened to Michael's shameless lie, they struggled to contain their frustration, barely restraining themselves from unleashing a torrent of reprimands. They maintained their composure, aware that losing their temper in front of Principal Wilson would reflect poorly on their professionalism. Had Wilson not been present, they might have resorted to harsher measures.
Meanwhile, Ms. Julia Adams, the teacher at the center of this incident, seethed with anger at Michael's audacity. Turning to the principal, she pleaded, "Mr. Wilson, please, you must impose the strictest punishment on this boy. If you don't, he'll not only ruin his own future but drag other students down with him."
Julia Adams hailed from a small village roughly 100 kilometers from New York City. Through sheer determination, she had risen to her current position. At the age of 25, she began teaching at Greenwich High School, and within just three years, she had proven her mettle, earning the opportunity to teach the school's senior classes. Her first assignment was the notorious Class 12-C, known for its rowdy students. On her very first day, she fell victim to a prank orchestrated by none other than Michael Anderson, the class's most incorrigible troublemaker. Though she endured that initial humiliation, Michael's relentless harassment continued. Today, however, he had crossed a line. That morning, Julia opened her desk drawer only to have a live frog leap out, startling her into a panic. She fell to the floor, and to her horror, the students of Class 12-C recorded the incident, laughing uproariously as they shared the video.
Furious, Julia immediately pinned the blame on Michael and summoned him to the principal's office. After hearing her account, Principal Wilson turned to Michael with a grave expression. "Michael, what you've done is no small matter. For this offense, I sentence you to seven days of detention, to be served five hours after school each day. Do you accept this punishment?"
Michael opened his mouth to protest, but the fury in Principal Wilson's eyes silenced him. He knew the prank he'd pulled on Ms. Adams was far from trivial. Reluctantly, he nodded, accepting the punishment. The other teachers in the room exchanged glances, somewhat satisfied with the verdict but powerless to influence it further. Julia, too, felt a measure of relief, knowing that at least Michael had been held accountable, even if the punishment seemed lenient. She resolved to remain vigilant, certain that Michael would soon give her another opportunity to ensure a harsher consequence.
With the matter settled, Michael returned to his classroom, sitting quietly as the school day ended. While his classmates were dismissed, he remained behind, serving his detention under Julia's supervision. She glared at him, her anger barely contained. Noticing her stare, Michael grinned cheekily and said, "Come on, Ms. Adams, why so angry? It was just a little prank. By the way, you're looking especially beautiful today."
Julia ignored his comment, burying herself in the books she'd brought to pass the time. She was determined to keep a close watch on him to prevent further mischief. Undeterred, Michael continued, his tone flirtatious. "Seriously, Ms. Adams, you're stunning. Your dark, flowing hair, your smooth complexion, those captivating eyes, and your figure—honestly, even Scarlett Johansson pales in comparison."
Michael wasn't entirely lying. Julia Adams was a vision of beauty—her large, soulful eyes gleamed like twilight seas, framed by long, silken lashes; her radiant smile could outshine the sun; and her golden hair cascaded like a celestial waterfall. Her flawless skin glowed like moonlight on porcelain, and her presence exuded an ethereal grace that captivated everyone around her. From the moment Julia had stepped into Class 12-C, Michael had been smitten, determined to win her over. But his relentless mischief had only alienated her—and every other girl in his class, for that matter.
Seizing the rare opportunity to speak with Julia alone, Michael pressed on. "Ms. Adams, I swear, the first time I saw you, I was hooked. I got lost in your beauty, and I'd do anything to make you mine."
Julia's patience snapped. In a cold, measured tone, she warned, "Michael, if you utter one more word like that, I'll ensure your punishment is doubled."
Ignoring her threat, Michael continued, his voice dripping with charm. "You know, Ms. Adams, you're so breathtaking that even the moon pales in comparison to you at night."
Julia shot him a withering glare before returning to her books. She had never encountered a student as brazen as Michael. She was well aware of her beauty—during her university years, countless classmates had proposed to her, only to be swiftly rejected. But Michael's audacity was on another level. When he realized Julia was ignoring him again, he doubled down, escalating his flirtation. "Honestly, Ms. Adams, you belong in Hollywood. If you were in the film industry, you'd outshine every A-list actress and have millions of fans."
Julia's irritation boiled over. Glaring at him, she snapped, "You are utterly shameless. Now I understand why every teacher and student in this class despises you. You've earned it."
Michael grinned, unfazed. "I know I'm shameless, and I don't care one bit. But if you want, I could change—for you. Just say you'll be my girlfriend."
Julia's patience reached its breaking point. "Oh, God, what cursed moment led me to be the teacher of a student like you? I'd rather teach sixth graders than deal with you. I'm done. I'm going to the restroom. And if you try anything while I'm gone, I'll make sure your detention is extended." With that, she stormed out, leaving Michael alone in the classroom.
A mischievous smile spread across Michael's face. He had no intention of enduring seven days of detention. He'd rather be expelled than sit through it. If he could pull off one more prank to provoke Julia further, he might just get himself rusticated and escape this punishment altogether. As he began plotting his next move, something extraordinary was unfolding beyond the confines of Greenwich High School.
High above Earth, an object hurtled toward the planet, resembling a comet with a trail of gas in its wake. But this was no ordinary celestial body—it was small, barely larger than a newborn's hand, and the gas trail it left was faint and delicate. The tiny stone pierced Earth's atmosphere, streaking toward the United States. Soon, it entered the skies above Greenwich Village, zeroing in on Greenwich High School. With uncanny precision, it crashed through the window of the very classroom where Michael was serving his detention.
The sound of shattering glass jolted Michael from his scheming. Turning toward the window, he spotted a small stone nestled among the broken shards. Curiosity piqued, he approached and reached for it. As he did, a jagged piece of glass sliced his finger, drawing blood. A single drop fell onto the stone, and in that instant, the object began to glow with an eerie brilliance. Before Michael could react, the stone seemed to dissolve, merging into his body. A searing pain erupted within him, as though thousands of insects were gnawing at his insides. The stone, now a liquid-like substance, raced through his bloodstream, heading toward his brain.
Terrified, Michael tried to resist, but he was powerless. The pain intensified, and his screams echoed through the classroom. Julia, returning from the restroom, heard his cries. At first, she assumed it was another of Michael's dramatic ploys. Cautiously, she approached the classroom, recalling a previous incident when a bucket of trash had been dumped on her as she entered. She opened the door carefully, only to find Michael missing from his desk. Her anger flared—until she noticed the shattered window and Michael writhing in agony on the floor, surrounded by glass.
Panic seized her. She immediately called the school's medical office, reporting the emergency. Help arrived swiftly, and Michael, now unconscious, was rushed to the medical wing. Unbeknownst to anyone, the liquid from the stone had reached his brain, fusing with his neural pathways. As it did, a flood of information poured into his mind—knowledge of advanced technologies, histories of distant civilizations, and fragments of the Akashic Records, a cosmic repository of universal knowledge. The stone, activated by Michael's blood, had unlocked its
secrets, merging them with his consciousness.