We lived happily on Earth until the stars betrayed us.
When satellite S0831 sent its warning to the research facility, panic erupted. Scientists rushed across the halls, alarms blared, and technicians frantically checked their monitors.
One shaken researcher approached the facility's director. "Sir… what should we do? The readings… they're undeniable."
The director, a man in his late twenties or early thirties, stood still. Half his face was hidden in shadow, the other lit by the glowing screens. Finally, he spoke with quiet finality:
"It's time… for Protocol Genesis."
The Last Broadcasts
Within hours, news spread across the globe. Humanity had consumed too much of the "PURE SOLAR ETHER", destabilizing the sun. In seven days, it would explode into a supernova.
🇮🇳 India
On live television, a trembling anchor read the breaking headline:
> "The government urges citizens to remain calm… evacuation measures are…"
Her voice cracked. She covered her mouth, tears spilling, the broadcast cutting abruptly.
🇺🇸 United States
The President addressed the world from the White House, his voice heavy:
> "We have activated Protocol Genesis. Every effort is being made to ensure humanity's survival. God help us all."
🇯🇵 Japan
Bells tolled in shrines as monks prayed. The Prime Minister appeared on every screen:
> "This is not only Japan's crisis. It is the end of an era for humanity. We must face it together."
🇷🇺 Russia
In the snow-covered streets of Moscow, tanks rolled toward launch sites. A stern announcer declared:
> "If we cannot save Earth, we will carve our future among the stars. Russia will endure."
🇨🇳 China
Government broadcasts showed sweeping shots of the three orbital rings. A calm voice reassured:
> "The people's fleet will rise. Humanity will not vanish."
No matter the words, panic consumed the globe. Riots, prayers, desperate cries. The final countdown had begun.
Above Earth, the three orbital rings shimmered like silver crowns. They had been humanity's proudest achievement. Now, they were evacuation hubs, ready to receive humanity's last hope: the colossal Queen Ship—Protocol Genesis—and its hundred Knight Ships guarding it. Humanity's archives, seeds, and fragments of civilization were stored within.
Engines ignited, and the fleet lifted off into orbit. Behind us, Earth awaited its fate.
Two days later, from the telescope chamber, we watched the end. The sun exploded into a supernova. Mercury, Venus, and finally Earth turned to dust in seconds due to humanity's excessive consumption of PURE SOLAR ETHER. Oceans boiled, continents shattered, and the blue jewel of our cradle vanished entirely.
Some screamed. Some collapsed. Others wept silently. I pressed my hand against the glass, numb. Earth was no more.
We drifted across the void for two years. Hunger, despair, and silence ate at us. And then—Alpha Creatus appeared. Blue seas, green land, breathable air. It seemed like salvation.
But it was not empty.
The Krodem met us not with welcome, but with chains. Their black-armored fleets swarmed, dragging us to Alpha Spire, their jagged capital.
"Friendship?" their leader sneered. "No. You are tools. And tools must obey."
We were herded into cages.
It was in the prison cell that I first saw them—two men who would change my fate.
The taller one stood at six feet, handsome, with sharp features and a fighter's discipline in every move. His fists looked like they had broken stone before.
The other was shorter, around five foot seven, with above-average looks, lean build, and eyes that radiated intelligence. Though his appearance was ordinary, his gaze scanned everything—the walls, the locks, the guards—with a calculating focus.
They studied me too. One of them finally spoke.
"You. What's your name?" the tall one asked.
"…Nemesis," I replied. I stand at 5'9" with good looks that sometimes draw attention even in grim moments.
He nodded once. "Mafisto."
The shorter one smirked. "And I'm Harpio. Military, commander… though that doesn't mean much in a cage."
"Military?" I raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged. "IQ 290. Strategy keeps you alive when strength doesn't. But I'd rather be out there commanding a fleet than rotting here."
Mafisto cracked his knuckles, his chains clinking. "Strength keeps you alive when brains fail."
Their eyes shifted to my right arm. Even in the dim cell light, it glimmered—crafted from some unknown space metal, indestructible, forged in shadows even I barely understood.
"And you?" Harpio asked. "That arm… who exactly are you?"
I leaned back against the cold wall, my face still half in shadow. "I was the one who gave the order. The one who said it was time for Protocol Genesis."
Both fell silent, realization dawning.
"The Director, Creator of PROTOCOL GENESIS," Harpio muttered.
"The one who saved Earthlings," Mafisto added, his tone unreadable.
For a long moment, we said nothing. Three strangers, three survivors, now caged together by alien hands. Yet something unspoken bound us.
We would not remain prisoners for long.