Ethan sat on the cracked side of the road, his back leaning against a rusted guardrail, staring up at the pale afternoon sky. His legs ached from walking for nearly two hours straight, his stomach grumbled like an empty drum, and the soles of his cheap sneakers were thinning enough that he could feel every pebble through them.
"Two hours…" he muttered under his breath. "And I'm still nowhere near home, my life really is… one big joke."
He tilted his head back, closing his eyes against the blinding sun. For a moment, he just breathed. The kind of long, empty breath that came when you were too tired to cry, too tired to be angry, and too tired to hope.
"Orphan… broke… hungry… and, oh yeah, the landlord wants rent by the end of the week. Perfect." He chuckled bitterly, running a hand through his messy black hair. "I should just tattoo the word 'loser' on my forehead and get it over with."
As if in answer, the heavens suddenly split with a roar.
A thunderous boom rolled across the field beside the road, shaking the ground beneath him. The sky clear just a moment ago rippled with blue light, as if someone had poured ink into water.
Ethan's head snapped up. "What the fu---?!"
He barely finished the thought before a streak of burning light cut across the clouds, screaming down toward the earth. His eyes widened as the fiery object slammed into the open field with a deafening crash, kicking up a storm of dirt and flame.
For a long moment, Ethan just sat frozen, jaw slack.
"…Did I just… did I just watch a meteor land? In front of me?"
His heart thudded. He stood slowly, his knees trembling.
Then came the hesitation.
"Wait, wait, wait... I've seen this movie before. Meteor crashes, dumb guy goes to check it out, and bam alien parasite, facehugger, space leech, whatever. Next thing you know, he's in a cocoon somewhere while his friends cry over his corpse." He wagged his finger at the crater like he was scolding it.
But then another thought slithered in.
"…Space rocks sell for a lot, right?"
He rubbed his chin. He imagined news headlines: 'Mysterious Meteorite Found by Local Orphan.' He pictured himself handing it over to scientists and walking away with a fat paycheck.
"Money," he whispered. His eyes gleamed. "I do need money and fast."
He chewed his lip, torn between survival instinct and the crushing weight of poverty. Then, with a groan, he waved his hands in surrender to fate.
"Fine! If I get eaten alive, at least I won't owe anyone rent anymore."
With reluctant steps, Ethan crossed the field. The air still smelled of smoke and ozone, the ground warm under his feet. The crater loomed ahead, dirt and rock scattered around it like a giant fist had punched the earth.
He crouched at the rim and peeked inside.
His breath caught.
At the center of the crater was not a burning chunk of stone, but a smooth black object the size of a basketball. Its surface pulsed faintly, veins of blue light crawling over it like it was alive.
Ethan's entire body went cold.
"Nope, that's a red flag if I've ever seen one. Big glowing alien egg? Pass. I value my skin, thanks."
He turned on his heel, already ready to sprint back but before he could take two steps.
The object pulsed violently, then exploded in a flash of blinding light.
Ethan cursed, covering his eyes. "Dang it! Why is it always the eyes?!"
He squeezed them shut, staggering backward.
And then something touched his hand.
It was cold. Metallic. Wrapping around his wrist like a claw.
Ethan screamed. A full, high-pitched, undignified scream that echoed across the empty field. "AAAHHHHHHHH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF ME!"
He flailed, but the thing latched tighter. He risked opening his eyes and froze in horror.
A sleek, futuristic gauntlet now clamped around his forearm, its surface glowing with the same blue light as the meteor. Lines of light crawled across his skin, merging with the device like it had always been part of him.
His breath came in ragged gasps. "What the hell is this?!"
Then, out of nowhere, a faint ding.
A holographic screen flickered to life before his eyes, projected into the air.
---
[ System Activated – tier 1 ]
Welcome, User.
Gauntlet Synced.
---
Ethan's jaw dropped.
"What the… UI? I... what?"
The text scrolled.
---
Construct Options Available:
Tier 1
Available Units:
Scout Construct – Four-armed humanoid, light frame, reconnaissance (enhanced vision, speed).
Worker Construct – Four-armed laborer, gathers resources, performs repairs.
Gauntlet Output: Small humanoids (adult size).
Special Feature: Material Scan – analyzes resources for compatibility.
Tier 1 – Initiate Frame
Description: Four-armed exosuit, slim alloy plating, enhances human speed, strength (2× baseline).
Features: HUD-linked Material Scan, basic weapon integration (melee blades or claws).
Tier 2: 0%
---
Ethan blinked. Once. Twice. Then he laughed nervously.
"…Okay. I'm either having a psychotic break, or this is real alien tech. And honestly, both options sound equally terrifying."
The gauntlet pulsed. The hologram hovered, waiting.
Ethan rubbed his face.
"maybe I just… actually found alien tech that can build robots."
Ethan stood there for a long minute, staring at the glowing hologram. His lips twisted, his brow furrowed. Then he glanced back at the crater with a long, heavy sigh.
"Y'know what? No, I'm not doing this horror movie trope tonight. Not when my stomach's empty and I'm one sneeze away from passing out."
He shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged back to the road. Each step felt heavier than the last, but his mind spun faster and faster.
Alien gauntlet. Nanobots. Building robots? He should've been terrified out of his mind, but instead he found himself weirdly… curious.
Half an hour later, his aching feet dragged him past an abandoned bike lying half-buried in weeds. The tires were flat, the frame rusted. It looked like it had been there since before he was born.
Ethan stopped. He tilted his head at the bike, then down at the gauntlet.
"…No way."
He raised his arm at the bike like some kind of budget superhero. "Okay… uh… scan?"
The gauntlet beeped. Blue light swept over the bike in a wave, scanning it top to bottom. Ethan's jaw fell open as the entire thing crumbled into black dust, collapsing in on itself like sand, before streaming into the gauntlet. The particles vanished into its surface as if swallowed.
Ethan stumbled back, eyes wide. "Ohhhhhhh, holy sh... That was… that was SO cool! …And somewhat unsettling."
---
Insufficient resources.
---
Ethan dragged a hand down his face. "Of course It's not magic, it needs resources."
He thought about the road signs nearby. Or the cars parked a block over. For a second, temptation flared. One scan and he'd have enough material to summon his first robot.
But then he sighed. "No. I'm broke, not a jerk. I'm not about to steal someone's car just so I can play Lego with alien tech."
He scratched the back of his head, his brain ticking. "I'll go to the scrapyard tomorrow. That's gotta be loaded with free junk. Plus… I could call the guys, they're always hanging near the university anyway."
Ethan tugged out his cheap phone, cracked screen glaring at him, and shot off a few quick messages to his friends.
[Yo, meet me at the scrapyard tomorrow. Got something wild to show you. Don't laugh. Bring gloves.]
By the time he finally reached his cramped little apartment, the exhaustion hit like a sledgehammer. He kicked off his sneakers, dropped his bag by the door, and collapsed onto the creaky bed frame.
The tiny room smelled faintly of damp and ramen seasoning. He flicked on the TV, its old screen buzzing with static before the news anchor's voice cut through.
"…astronomers confirm that multiple asteroid clusters are on a direct course with Earth. Estimated impact within three days."
Ethan froze mid-motion, an egg still in his hand.
The camera switched to images of the sky dozens, maybe hundreds of fiery dots streaking through space. The anchor's voice trembled.
"Scientists have also detected strange anomalies around the asteroid paths unknown energy signatures, unidentified structures, possibly artificial. Global leaders are urging calm, though the president has confirmed: impact is unavoidable. Citizens are advised to seek shelter immediately."
Ethan set the egg down slowly, his throat dry.
His mind spun, connecting dots he didn't want to connect.
The meteor. The gauntlet. Nanobots.
And now, a whole swarm of rocks, carrying god-knows-what.
"…Alien tech," he whispered. "Alien tech falling from the sky and if I'm really unlucky… not just tech. Aliens."
On-screen, the president appeared, grim-faced.
"My fellow citizens, this is not a drill. The asteroid strike will be catastrophic. Everyone must prepare. Find shelter. Survive."
The TV flickered back to the studio, but Ethan barely heard it.
His eyes drifted to the gauntlet on his arm. Its faint blue glow pulsed, steady and patient, like a heartbeat.