Nevada, District 18 Military Base.
In the satellite reconnaissance control room, the photos displayed on several large monitors silenced the entire space.
The screens were blurry, but they showed a white object streaking through the atmosphere, heading toward Earth. Its thrusters burned brightly, emitting flames like a meteor as it descended.
Despite the blurred image caused by the intense glare of the thrusters, the object's outline and its fiery tail were still clear enough to reconstruct its original shape.
Several aviation experts in white coats stood by the control table, staring intently at the image, their expressions frozen in disbelief.
"This… this is a spaceship!"
"A spacecraft right out of science fiction!"
"Where could it have come from? Who built a craft capable of interstellar travel?"
"A spaceship from an alien civilization has arrived on Earth."
In an instant, the once-quiet control room erupted in fervent discussion. Emotions ran high, and excitement filled the air.
The implications were staggering. This was an unprecedented discovery, the kind that would mark a turning point in human history.
In the vastness of the universe, humans had long suspected they weren't alone, that intelligent life existed elsewhere. Now, proof of that life was here, on Earth's doorstep.
One of the engineers, his face flushed with excitement, began barking orders.
"Calculate the landing position of the spacecraft! This is monumental! We're about to make first contact with beings from the stars!"
"A discovery that will go down in history!" someone echoed, their voice trembling.
Everyone in the room was energized, their spirits ignited by the historic moment. You could almost feel the weight of their collective realization: they were about to take humanity's first step toward encountering extraterrestrial life.
The idea of exploring the endless starry sky, of meeting alien races, stirred their hearts like an irresistible force. The unknown called to them, and they felt ready to plunge headlong into the fire of discovery.
They worked feverishly, analyzing the spacecraft's trajectory. Within moments, they had determined that it would crash into a giant sequoia forest about 300 kilometers away.
Nevada, known as the driest state in the U.S., is dominated by a desert climate. Large forests are rare, but by a twist of fate, the spacecraft was set to land in one of the few areas where towering sequoias grew.
The proximity of the crash site filled the room with cheers. It was a stroke of luck. If all went smoothly, they'd be able to reach the site in just a few hours. The prospect of seeing the spacecraft up close, of examining its alien technology, was too thrilling to resist.
But their excitement was short-lived.
A commanding voice cut through the room like a blade.
"Delete everything."
The control room fell silent. Every pair of eyes turned toward the tall figure who had spoken.
General Vic.
He stood rigid, his posture exuding authority as he surveyed the room. His voice was calm but commanding, his tone leaving no room for argument.
General Vic was in his forties, a white man with a hooked nose and fierce eyes. His very presence radiated strength and decisiveness, and his reputation preceded him.
The room, which had been alive with excitement just moments ago, now felt suffocatingly tense. The staff froze in their seats, their minds reeling.
Delete it?
This was the greatest discovery of the century! Why erase it?
A few of the more daring researchers glanced at each other, their expressions betraying confusion and discontent.
General Vic's reputation as a ruthless hawk was well-known. He had earned infamy during the Vietnam War, particularly in the aftermath of North Vietnam's victory. On his way out of the region, he had ordered the massacre of several villages, leaving tens of thousands dead. Though brought to a military court for his actions, he had ultimately evaded real punishment. His power and influence had only grown since.
It was clear to everyone what was happening here. General Vic wanted sole control of this discovery. By deleting the records, he could ensure that all information regarding the alien spacecraft remained in his hands.
A tense silence enveloped the room. The researchers knew that General Vic held ultimate authority at the base. His word was law.
Still, one brave soul attempted to speak up.
"General Vic, this doesn't seem appropriate…"
The speaker, a middle-aged man in a white coat, stammered nervously. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he struggled to maintain eye contact with the imposing general.
Vic's sharp gaze cut through the man's protest.
"Execute the order," he said coldly. "Delete the records from Observer 14."
Behind General Vic stood two colonels, one male and one female. The male colonel stepped forward, his eyes cold and predatory.
"Do as the general says," he commanded in a low, menacing voice.
This man was Colonel Slade Wilson. His towering frame and rugged features gave him an air of unshakable authority. In his military uniform, he looked every bit the seasoned soldier, his calm demeanor underpinned by a quiet ferocity.
Slade's reputation was nearly as fearsome as Vic's. He, too, had been involved in atrocities during the Vietnam War, including the massacre of an entire village. His gaze swept over the room like a winter wind, sharp and unyielding.
The oppressive weight of his presence was enough to make several staff members visibly tremble. No one doubted that disobedience would result in severe consequences.
The middle-aged researcher swallowed hard.
"I… I understand, General Vic," he said reluctantly.
One by one, the staff began following orders, deleting all records of the alien spacecraft's discovery. Under General Vic's directive, they even altered the timestamps on previous records to obscure any trace of what had been observed.
"Rest assured," Vic said as he turned to leave, "everyone here will have a role in studying the alien spacecraft."
His words, meant to placate, only deepened the pall that had fallen over the room. Many of the researchers exchanged uneasy glances. Soldiers armed with rifles entered the control room, their presence further dampening any hope of resistance.
As Vic exited, Colonel Slade and the blonde female colonel followed closely behind.
Slade couldn't help but feel uneasy. While he would never question the general's orders, he knew the risks involved. If their actions were discovered, it wouldn't just be their careers on the line, they'd be branded as traitors to the United States.
Sensing his doubts, Vic slowed his pace and spoke without looking back.
"There's no need to worry. Only a few satellites can transmit data in real time, and none of them are positioned to detect this. As for the reconnaissance data, we'll classify it as a meteorite. It'll be erased from the records."
Slade nodded, pushing his concerns aside. "Understood, General. Your orders are my directive."
Vic glanced at him, his expression softening ever so slightly. After a moment of thought, he added in a low voice, "What I'm about to tell you is classified."
Slade raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"This isn't the first time aliens have come to Earth," Vic said. "Area 51's reputation isn't baseless."
Slade stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned. By the time he recovered, Vic had already moved ahead, and Slade hurried to catch up.
The revelation left him shaken. Aliens—true intelligent beings from beyond the stars, had already set foot on Earth. But what unsettled him even more was the question lingering in his mind:
Why hadn't they destroyed or subjugated humanity?
No matter how he turned it over, it didn't make sense.