Youssef just grinned. "Don't say a word. Just get ready. We leave in three days." He brandished the tickets like a trophy. "We're going to New Atlantis. And since it's practically part of Egypt, the trip will be short. Can you believe it?"
Noor nodded, his eyes glued to the ticket transferred to his watch as if it were under a spell. "Of course. I need to tell my family I'm leaving."
He said his goodbyes and practically ran home, clutching the watch so tightly his knuckles were white. Excitement fizzed through him, a frantic energy that made him talk to himself.
"Space", he thought. "It's always been calling to me. I was never meant for this broken planet, with its endless wars and petty hatred. Everyone here is driven by greed. They've misunderstood what it means to live. My only escape has always been the stars, floating in that endless peace. And now… now it's finally happening".
He pedaled faster, heading for the house that stood alone on a high, grassy plain. His father had always loved the quiet and the distance from people—a trait Noor had inherited. The house wasn't completely isolated; towns and malls were just a few miles away. But here, surrounded by nature, where the wind sang across the plains and birdsong filled the air, was where he felt at home.
The setting sun painted the path in shades of red, the crimson light bleeding into the green grass, creating a scene of perfect tranquility.
Then he saw them. Two streaks of light in the sky. He thought they were meteors, but one of them was getting bigger. Fast. A knot of concern tightened in his stomach.
"Is that a meteor? It looks like it's heading for the house!"
He pumped the pedals harder, his heart hammering against his ribs. The object grew, its shape becoming clearer. He heard a thunderous crash in the distance, a sound that shook the ground and sent a plume of dust into the air. He couldn't tell if it had hit the house. He raced onward, relieved that no one was home today.
Finally, he saw it. The house stood on the horizon, untouched. Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by a burning curiosity. He swerved off the road, his bike bumping over the open plain, heading toward the rising dust. He briefly saw the second meteor fall far in the distance but ignored it. The one that had landed right here was the one that mattered.
Minutes later, he skidded to a stop at the impact site, panting, his shirt soaked with sweat. He stared into a deep crater. As the dust settled, he realized what lay at the bottom wasn't a meteor at all.
It was a massive metallic sphere, perfectly round and coated in a black so deep it seemed to swallow the light. He approached it slowly, a shiver running down his spine. This could be anything—a bomb, a ship, some piece of alien technology that could wipe humanity from the map.
But his curiosity was stronger than his fear. He circled the sphere like a predator stalking its prey. It was big enough to hold a small car, yet its surface was seamless, impossibly smooth.
He reached out a hesitant hand and pressed it against the surface. A jolt, like a mild electric shock, surged through his arm and then vanished.
Without a sound, a small section of the sphere slid open. Noor jumped back, his heart pounding. A panel was revealed, covered in buttons marked with bizarre symbols, vaguely reminiscent of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was a passcode interface. But how could he possibly crack it?
He activated the holographic interface on his wristwatch, opened the camera app, and took several pictures of the panel and the sphere. Then, with adrenaline singing in his veins, he raced back home.
In his room, he uploaded the images to the ELIAS search engine. The results were immediate, and strange. The language was in the database, but all related files were locked behind CITRA Agency security protocols.
He'd have to breach their network to learn anything. Why would a government agency be hiding information about an alien language? The conspiracy theorists had always claimed CITRA was hiding secrets about space. Noor had always dismissed them as crackpots. Now, he wasn't so sure.
One of his household robots glided into the room. It was silver-plated with cold, expressionless features. As it offered him a glass of water, Noor stopped it.
"Scrap the water," he said, his eyes gleaming. "I have a job for you. Your real job. I programmed you with the ability to hack any network. I need you to break into the CITRA Agency's network. Find everything you can on this language."
The robot nodded. "Of course, sir. I will comply." It sat in a nearby chair, and holographic windows filled with cascading code began to open around it.
As Noor sat on his bed, wondering about the sphere, he decided Youssef had to see this. He sent him a quick voice message with the pictures. The reply came back in seconds.
"I'll be there in a minute."
Noor thought he was exaggerating until his bedroom door burst open and Youssef stumbled in, breathless. Noor leaped from his bed. "You idiot! You could've given me a heart attack! Knock next time!"
"Sorry! Couldn't wait," Youssef panted. "Now, where's this sphere?"
"Hold on. Let the robot finish the hack, then I'll take you."
Youssef frowned impatiently at the robot. "You know," he said, practically vibrating with excitement, "this could be the discovery of the century! If there's an alien inside, or some advanced artifact… we'd be famous! I can see it now—the awards, the recognition, maybe even the Al-Khwarizmi Prize! Shouldn't we call in some specialists, though? This thing could be dangerous."
"Absolutely not," Noor shot back. "If we bring anyone else in, they'll take it away and bury the secret. The public will never know. CITRA is already hiding this language from us. We figure this out ourselves."
"You're right," Youssef said, his eyes lighting up again. "We uncover the secret, then we tell the world. Fame and fortune, my friend. Our salvation has fallen from the sky."
"Don't get ahead of yourself. We still haven't breached CITRA's network."
"Sir," the robot's cold voice cut in. "The hack is complete. I have obtained all available information regarding the language."
Youssef let out a whoop. "What were you saying?" he said, grinning mockingly at Noor. "Now, tell us everything!"
"This language belongs to the ancient civilization of Atlantis," the robot reported. "CITRA is currently using it in their search for the city's location. Any further classified data is stored on a secure internal server, which I cannot access from outside the Agency."
Noor's eyes widened. "I told you!" he said, grabbing Youssef by the shoulders, his voice filled with triumph. "I told you the city was real! This can't be a coincidence. It's destiny, my friend."
Youssef fell silent, pacing the room. "Okay, maybe your search wasn't a waste of time," he finally said. "But what does a strange sphere falling from space have to do with Atlantis?"
"I don't know yet. But the answer is on that panel."
Youssef leaned over the holographic display of the symbols, analyzing them, calculating the relationships between them. After a few minutes, his jaw dropped.
"Noor… this isn't a passcode. It's a message."
He pointed to the screen, where the translated text now glowed.
What falls from space brings with it the lost knowledge that will free humans from the clutches of ignorance and open their horizons to know the truth before destruction arrives. For the sphere to open, you must surrender your will to it. Watch for Atlantis. Watch for destruction.