“Is it American?” - Mike posed the same question everyone was silently contemplating. Is it of American origin? Or is it something else entirely? A few individuals instinctively reached for their phones to document the scene as my thoughts churned

  Was it really ours? I doubted its origin. We aren't technologically advanced enough to create something like this. We're still grappling with the challenge of constructing our initial spacecraft. All we've managed thus far is the space shuttle. This is significantly beyond our current capabilities.

  Receiving this system and now this event. It can't be mere chance. Perhaps it was a gift from a higher power or the occupants of the spaceship. I'm uncertain. However, its significance is undeniable. I confess, I haven't delved into the intricacies of the system. It seems rudimentary. It doesn't promise ultimate power or vast wealth. Not even a quest or something tangible to enhance humanity's potential. If we dismiss the idea of coincidence, then whatever unfolds is destined to be significant. But how can I acquire the credits to utilize it? Numerous questions, yet too few clues. At least, not yet.

  SSigmund, the deceitful traitor, cowered with his accomplices. They had commenced their departure from the arena, showing no inclination to look back. He engaged in a phone conversation, occasionally glancing upward. Perhaps it was his spouse, perhaps his child. It's inconsequential.

  I observed the spaceship as it departed from the sky, complicating matters for anyone in its path.

  While lost in reverie, the legionaries dispersed. Only a handful lingered. David and Ed were part of the small group that remained.

  I proudly declared, "It was an impressive battle, boys! That massive hunk of metal just spared the barbarians from a thrashing!" This elicited nervous laughter from them. Each one displayed signs of anxiety. I didn't fault them. I felt nervous too, but it was beyond my level of responsibility. At least it wasn't targeting us.

  "They attacked Tehran!" - Someone shouted from the crowd. A middle-aged man with glasses held his phone aloft, visible from our position. However, this announcement heightened everyone's anxiety. Some even hastened toward the exit.

  "All right, folks! Seems like I've cursed our luck," I declared. "New plan. Ed, David, round up everyone who's up for staying put in the arena. We'll keep an eye on the news here."

  "Isn't the conference building a safer choice?" David inquired.

  No, it'd be chaos if panic broke out there. We stay put for a while. I'm sure there are plenty of frantic drivers out there."

  Just to prove my point, the mandatory event ambulance blared its siren and sped out of the parking lot. Seems like I'm cursing everything today. Gotta watch my words.

  "Let's get going, lads," I announced, clapping my hands, and they began to mobilize. I appreciated that Ed took the standard. It hurt to see it fallen, but Ed, with his gentle touch, would restore its shine. Dedication, shared by more than just myself.

  Locating my wife with Molly, I noticed Astrid digging into the scrumptious cookies. The two women exchanged hushed words so my daughter could not hear them.

  "We're sticking around in the open. Things should clear up in a few hours," I stated while grabbing a cookie. "Mmm, delicious! Astrid, did you notice? There's one with a unicorn pattern! Love it!"

  "No! It's mine! Hand it over, Dad!" After a playful struggle with my daughter, I reluctantly surrendered my precious cookie. A few moments of sobbing later, she bestowed upon me a partially devoured one. I graciously accepted and thanked her.

  Munching on cookies and attempting to conceal my unease, Krisztina discreetly passed her phone into my hand.

  "State of emergency in the US," "Teheran ablaze after military actions," "North Korea claims ownership of the spacecrafts." I perused the headlines, already laid out by my wife. Scrolling through, my suspicions were confirmed. It wasn't our doing.

  "I pray we've stored sufficient cans and water in the shed," I muttered under my breath.

  Both women caught wind of it, and their worry mirrored mine.

  VIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOO! VIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOO! VIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOO!

  "Attention! Attention! In accordance with Section 15/2018 - DF of the Hungarian Fundamental Law, the Hungarian Government declares a curfew for all citizens not involved in emergency response. The curfew takes effect in one hour. Citizens, return home, stay calm, and await further instructions!"

  "Attention! Attention! ..." - The emergency sirens wailed twice more before falling silent.

  The individuals who stuck around began to move toward the exit. I observed Sam's two lackeys blending into the departing crowd, while Sam remained engrossed in his phone conversation.

  I headed off to switch from my armour into more casual attire and bid farewell to my remaining legionaries. Setting out with my family, Ed, and Molly, David led the way with two stunning foreign women. He claimed it was his duty to ensure their safety. Given his track record, his bedroom would likely be the safest place tonight...

  In the parking lot, Ed and Molly bid us farewell. Astrid scored a generous amount of cookies since no one else was around to claim them. Molly also gifted my daughter a knitted scarf with a horse pattern; she adored it. I glanced over to where David was settling into his car. With the car door ajar and only his head visible, he observed as my daughter received the scarf. While she hugged it affectionately, David sported a grin. We locked eyes, and he startled like a deer before hastily retreating into his car. One of the girls in his car had already removed her blouse…

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "Hey, Honey. Isn't that Sam?" my wife asked, pointing to the other side of the parking lot. It was nearly deserted, but unmistakably him—a middle-aged, overweight guy with greasy brown hair in an expensive suit, attempting to catch up to a departing car.

  "Wait! Wait!" Sam hollered, but he had to halt to catch his breath. Subpar athleticism, I mused.

  "Wasn't that David's car?" my wife inquired, and indeed, I hadn't noticed initially, but it was David who sped off.

  "Why would Sam desperately want something from David? Think one of those girls was Sam's girlfriend?" I queried my wife, a mischievous glint in my eyes. It would be comical.

  Meanwhile, Sam directed his attention to the last car in the parking lot—our car. He began a slow jog in our direction. He was drenched in sweat, and his face resembled a lobster.

  My initial instinct screamed at me to drive off. I only had less than an hour to return home with my family, but another minute wouldn't alter the situation.

  I lowered the car window for the guy who had just reached us. He was panting so heavily that I contemplated whether he needed medical attention.

  Marcus..." he began. "Marcus, you've got to get me to the airport!"

  "No," I declared flatly. Why on earth would I consider such a thing? I had to get back home, ensure my family's safety, inspect our supplies, and perhaps raid the local supermarket—just like in every disaster movie.

  "Marcus! Please! I can pay you! Look," he urged, producing his wallet and extracting cash. "Take it, man. Just get me to the airport."

  "Sam... No. We need to head home promptly to beat the curfew," I asserted. I was convinced there would be looting and various unpleasant incidents in the evening. I might have to fortify the door, have a word with the neighbors about organizing a night watch…

  "I'll give you anything, man!" he pleaded, checking his watch. "I've got only 50 minutes to make it to the airport!"

  "Daddy, are we leaving now? Don't talk to the man. Drive," came the instructions from my daughter.

  I began to inch forward, but Sam shouted after us.

  "I can get you to safety. My dad will take us to a military base. Please! I can help you!"

  I halted the car and exchanged glances with my wife. Confusion on her face, mirroring my own.

  "How?" I blurted out as Sam approached my window again.

  "My father heads the European Political and Security Committee. He's waiting for me at the airport to ensure my safety. Please, Marcus! I can be of assistance!"

  His pleading carried weight, but I needed clarification before making a decision.

  "If you're as important as you claim, why isn't anyone here to pick you up?" I inquired as a helicopter passed overhead.

  "The VIP convoy that was supposed to pick me up got stuck in traffic. Redirecting another one would take an hour."

  "And you'd miss your flight," I summarized. I remained undecided. Should we lend a hand, or should we not?

  "Sam! We haven't conversed much," my wife leaned toward my window. "But I need your assurance that everything you said is true. You'll assist us in reaching a secure military base, and you'll ensure our safety." My wife's gaze was so intense it could thaw ice. She held Sam's eyes. "Can you give me your word on that, Sam?"

  Sam gulped. My wife was typically humorous and charming, but when she turned serious, even I approached with caution.

  Yeah..." he began, but my wife intensified her gaze, prompting him to amend, "Yes! I'll give you my word!"

  My wife maintained eye contact with him a moment longer.

  "Get in," she concluded.

  We had to make several detours due to accidents on the road. Numerous drivers were attempting to return home urgently. Many of them seemed distracted or in a state of panic, creating chaos on the roads.

  En route to the airport, we witnessed the aftermath of a supermarket raid. The place was swarmed with a crowd, individuals dashing with arms full of goods—toilet paper, food, water. They emptied the shelves. Clearly Mad Max. Although we spotted police cars, I could imagine they had more pressing matters than dealing with looters.

  "And what happened to your two friends, Sam?" my wife inquired.

  "Oh, they bailed. When I mentioned a VIP convoy was en route for me, they wanted in too. I made it clear they weren't important and had no chance. So, they took off."

  I glanced at my wife, sincerely hoping we had made the correct choice. There was still time for me to make it back home. I felt my wife's warm hands on mine.

  "Everything will be fine," she whispered to me.

  Suddenly, my phone began to buzz. Yet, it wasn't just mine; I heard the buzzing from Krisztina and Sam's phones as well.

  "What the…" I began, but my thought was cut short.

  All our phones and the radio began emitting Chinese speech. I don't understand Chinese, but it undeniably sounded like it. We were all dumbfounded. I had to decelerate to avoid colliding with the car in front of us. I glanced at the driver beside me, and she was holding her phone. As I lowered the window, I heard the same robotic tones from other cars. And it wasn't just the cars; even the shop's speakers were broadcasting in Chinese.

  "It's damn creepy," I remarked.

  "Daddy, why is the phone talking weird?"

  "It's saying something about being peaceful and here to help. I don't quite get the rest," Sam spoke from the backseat.

  "Do you speak Chinese?" I asked, taken aback.

  "A bit. Thanks to my father's influence…"

  "I found a translation online!!!" my wife exclaimed, checking her phone. "It says, I quote, 'People of Earth. We arrived in peace but won't tolerate any attacks. In the name of Lord Amon, we've brought gifts and propose trade. We invite all your leaders to (coordinate) in 2 days.'"

  “What…?”