The Pentagon's National Military Command Center was extremely busy.
Screens were alive with feeds, satellite overlays, thermal imaging and real-time surveillance stitched together into a single operational picture that updated faster than most people could process. What started as a flagged anomaly at 09:13 had escalated into a full classified event within minutes and now, hours later, everyone understood they were watching something that didn't fit into any known category.
The main display showed a replay on loop. Two figures dropped from the sky above Liberty Island. Seconds later, a distortion formed that analysts still couldn't properly label. Both individuals vanished without a trace. At 10:34, they reappeared on a ferry feed, seamlessly integrated into a crowd of tourists as if they had always been there. That alone had pushed the situation from unexplained to classified threat assessment.
A senior operations officer stood at the center of the room with his hands behind his back as he watched the live city feed now showing the two individuals walking through Manhattan streets. The camera zoomed slightly and enhanced clarity revealing their features in detail. Even through a screen, the effect was noticeable, something about them pulled attention in a way that didn't align with normal human variance.
He didn't comment on that part, because it wasn't his focus, but the analysts had already logged it as an anomaly in behavioral response patterns from civilians around them. Instead, his attention shifted to the thermal imaging panel to the right, where the data was far more concerning. The figures glowed intensely.
"Tell me the thermal readings."
A technician immediately responded, pulling up the numbers in clearer detail.
"Sir, their internal thermal signatures are off the charts. We're not looking at elevated human temperatures. This is a sustained output and it's not dissipating into the environment the way it should."
The officer's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed that.
"And their clothing?"
Another analyst answered this time, clearly unsettled.
"Unaffected, sir. No signs of heat damage, no scorching and no degradation. Whatever energy they're producing isn't interacting with materials the way standard heat transfer would dictate."
The officer stepped closer to the main display, watching as the woman moved slightly ahead of the man.
"They're not human."
No one argued.
"In fact, they don't even register as having human DNA markers in the scans we managed to pull from environmental traces. What we're looking at is something else. They arrived at 09:13, aerial descent with no detectable craft, vanished via what appears to be a localized spatial distortion, reappeared at 10:34 integrated into civilian population. As of 12:52, they are now moving freely through New York City with no signs of hostility."
He let that sit for a second before continuing.
"They are, by every operational definition we have, extraterrestrial or non-terrestrial entities on United States soil."
A quiet murmur moved through the room. The officer didn't dwell on it.
"They possess technology or abilities beyond anything we currently understand, specifically spatial manipulation, which we observed when the female created that portal. Based on current data, that capability alone puts them at a strategic level we are not equipped to counter directly. However, they have not engaged in any aggressive behavior, they are interacting with the environment passively and in one instance, attempting communication. That gives us an opening."
A communications specialist leaned forward.
"Sir, are we initiating contact protocols?"
The officer nodded once.
"Primary objective is communication. We approach diplomatically. They understand English based on intercepted interaction, so we proceed under the assumption that direct verbal communication is viable. But we are not going in blind."
He turned toward a tactical coordinator.
"I want sniper teams deployed with full perimeter coverage and high vantage points, maintain visual lock at all times."
The coordinator hesitated for half a second.
"Rules of engagement, sir?"
"Hold fire unless explicitly authorized. But they are to be in position, and they are to remain unseen."
He tapped the side of the display where the two figures continued walking through unaware civilians.
"Use adaptive camouflage. If they detect us before we initiate contact, we lose control of the situation."
The officer remained where he was, watching the screen for a moment longer.
"Prepare for anything. If they decide to act, we won't get a second chance to respond."
°°°°°°
The café sat just off the street and half-open to the sidewalk with metal chairs and small round tables packed close together. Veneri and Narisva took a table near the edge close enough to the street that the sound of traffic, footsteps, voices and distant sirens blended into a constant stream that never stopped.
People were still glancing at them. Some were more discreet than before and others were not even trying to hide it. Their phones occasionally lifted for a quick picture before dropping again. Narisva leaned back slightly in her chair. Her fingers tapped once against the table as her eyes moved across the environment. The longer she sat there, the more her expression changed to discomfort and sensory overload that didn't exist in Spheraphase.
"This place is loud and not just in sound, but in everything. Movement, voices, energy, and even their talks are erratic."
She exhaled slowly as faint Spatial Energy pulsed around her. It was subtle enough that no one else noticed.
"I can hear and see across kilometers if I want to and right now, it's all coming in at once. I'm forcing my senses to adapt because otherwise this would be unbearable."
Veneri rested his elbow lightly on the table as he glanced at the street.
"It's not that hard to adjust. You just have to filter it out instead of taking it all in at once. But yeah… it's still too noisy."
Before the conversation could go further, a waitress approached their table. There was a brief pause that was just enough to show that she was caught off guard, but she recovered quickly, pulling out a small notepad as she spoke, though her eyes lingered just a little too long on Narisva.
"Hey, uh… what can I get for you two?"
Veneri didn't hesitate.
"Coffee and donuts."
She nodded immediately, writing it down, though her gaze flicked back to Narisva again.
"Got it, I'll be right back with that."
As she walked away, Narisva watched her for a second longer. She leaned closer to Veneri.
"Is she attracted to women? The way she was looking at me didn't feel neutral."
Veneri followed her gaze and then shrugged.
"Probably. They go by another name, lesb—"
The word cut off mid-sentence as someone pulled a chair at the table next to theirs and sat down without hesitation. The man wore a formal military uniform and even without looking directly at him, it was obvious he wasn't just another customer. He signaled briefly to a passing staff member, placing his own order in a low voice before settling into his seat. Veneri didn't even turn his head. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"You here to evaluate whether we're aliens or not."
The man didn't react immediately, which was an answer, but when he did speak, his voice was cold.
"I've seen enough to not need confirmation. You're not from here."
There was a brief pause before Veneri added something unexpected.
"I lived through a version of this before. And if my understanding is correct, this is the Eighth Iteration."
Narisva's attention snapped to him immediately. Veneri had used Memory Implantation on her so she could understand and speak English now, though her accent was a little too strong.
"And you're just saying that openly in public? This kind of information isn't exactly normal here."
Veneri gave a faint, almost humorless smile. The man spoke.
"You two are not normal. And frankly, compared to you, the people around us don't matter in this conversation."
"Hey, you wouldn't be able to process out information anyway. You're all too weak and you're perception is limited, so even if we told them about us, it wouldn't change anything. To us, you are basically ants."
The man's jaw tightened just slightly at that.
"I'm not particularly glad to hear that, Miss. You landed on American soil, which makes this our responsibility whether we like it or not."
Veneri finally turned his head t the man. He rested his hand lightly on the table.
"We didn't come here intentionally. This was accidental and we're trying to find a way back to where we came from. So, we'll be here for a while whether you like it or not. Oh and while you're at it, tell your snipers to stop aiming at my wife's head. It's bad manners."
The man's expression changed instantly. Surprise broke through his composure for the first time as his eyes flicked slightly, instinctively checking without actually turning his head.
"You can see them?"
Narisva didn't even look in their direction, but she grinned.
"They're not exactly hidden well. Their murderous intent is loud and their positioning is predictable."
The man didn't waste time. His hand moved subtly as he spoke into a concealed comms device.
"Stand down, all units. Maintain position but disengage targeting immediately."
The distant killing intent faded out completely. Narisva exhaled quietly as she rubbed her neck.
"Better. Their murderous intent is like bugs on my skin. I expected this government to try and eliminate us before initiating contact. That's usually how this country operates when faced with something unknown, according to my husband."
"That's not how we handle every situation."
Veneri gave a faint, almost amused exhale.
"If you attacked first, we would have destroyed this city before you even realized what was happening."