The object was detected at 6:47 AM local time. Its appearance was accompanied by a slight drop in temperature within a two-kilometer radius. A tomb ship - a massive structure resembling a charred rock mass covered in undecipherable symbols - slowly descended over the positions of the 134th Special Brigade, temporarily stationed in a wooded area northwest of the city. Radio communication was impossible for 11 minutes: all frequencies were filled with a low-frequency hum, imperceptible to the ear but detectable by the inner ear as a sensation of pressure and cold.
Seventeen minutes after the landing stabilized, a representative emerged from the lower segment of the ship. Its movements were not consistent with gravity, and its gait resembled that of a body devoid of muscle activity. Recorded parameters: body temperature below freezing, pulse absent, respiration not detected. Visually, it was humanoid, but with pronounced signs of post-necrotic changes: exposed bone, dry gray tissue, and missing eyeballs. Despite this, spatial orientation and purposefulness were preserved.
The representative, without showing the slightest sign of aggression, passed through three lines of security, stopping only at the entrance to the command post. None of the response systems were activated. The guards, according to reports, experienced a strong feeling of numbness, but not fear. The alien indicated its intention to speak with General Kovalev. According to witnesses, the tone was even, devoid of intonation, but not mechanical - more like that of a person who had long forgotten what emotion is.
General Kovalev confirmed his readiness for contact. For the next hour, the Necrocivilization representative remained in the command post. Visual observation was conducted using unmanned systems: radiation levels around the alien remained moderately elevated, but not critical. Brief distortions in optics and navigation were recorded. None of the participants were injured.
Note: The Necrocivilization is one of the few with whom Earth maintains direct, albeit limited, contact. Their behavior is stable, predictable, and devoid of emotional overtones. It is recommended to remain neutral, refrain from physical interaction, and avoid asking questions regarding the nature of their existence.
Location: 134th Special Forces Brigade Command Post / [TITLE REDACTED] City
Time: +8 Hours Since First Contact
[INTERIOR. Command Post. Semi-Dark. Monitors, Headquarters Maps, Uneasy Silence.]
General Kovalev stands in front of a topographic map of the city. Behind him, several officers watch the indicators intently. The main screen shows minor distortions in the city limits, but no destruction. In the corner of the room stands the statue-like figure of a Necrocivilization alien. He doesn't breathe. He doesn't blink. He just... is.
GENERAL (quietly, to himself):
The city is still there. And yet, it feels as if he's no longer here.
The alien figure slowly turns its head. The sound resembles the movement of old metal, the grinding of bones. The voice doesn't sound - it lingers in the air, like a phantom resonance.
ALIEN (Necrocivilization):
We need to transmit a message.
GENERAL (tensing):
To whom?
ALIEN:
To the R'mel group. They're close. But I can't get closer. I can't call.
GENERAL:
Why? You... (pause)...you've crossed half the galaxy. Why can't you just contact?
ALIEN:
Psychomancers. Their presence distorts the path. They... hear everything. Even what's unspoken.
GENERAL:
(sighs, looks at the map)
We can't contact R'mel directly either. The Foundation is working on it, but... so far, nothing. They appear when they want. They disappear when they decide.
A pause. The alien doesn't move. But there's a pressure in his presence. Not physical. Not mental. As if time itself becomes viscous around him.
ALIEN:
You know who can.
GENERAL (sharply):
No. Don't even think about it. He's a test subject. Not an agent. Not a liaison. Just... a human. One of many who found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time.
ALIEN:
He offered help. His structure is unstable. That makes him visible. To R'mel.
The General is silent for a long moment. His gaze glides over the monitors, then to the door where the test subject is being held. He remembers the meeting. He remembers how he spoke. Not as a frightened witness. As someone who knows something.
GENERAL (tired):
If the Foundation considers him "one of their own"... if he volunteered...
(pause)
...then let him try.
He turns to the officer.
GENERAL:
Bring the Subject. We'll tell him that aliens from the realm of the dead are asking us to "call" those who live outside of time.
(smiles bitterly)
A normal day, damn it.
The officer leaves. The alien is silent. The room grows colder. Somewhere deep in the base, a barely perceptible hum. Perhaps it's the reactor. Or maybe it's something else.
[INTERIOR. INTERROGATION/OBSERVATION ROOM. SOFT LIGHT. CAMERAS. GESELL'S MIRROR.]
A SUBJECT sits at a table. He wears standard Foundation security clearance. A metal cup of water rests on the table. He looks tired, but not frightened. Rather, focused. As if he's waiting for something.
The door opens. An officer enters. Behind him is General Kovalev.
GENERAL:
You said you wanted to help.
SUBJECT (without a pause):
I still want to.
(looks into his eyes)
Have you decided to use me?
GENERAL (restrained):
We decided to ask.
(pause)
The necrocivilization has transmitted a message. For R'mel. They can't get close. The psychomancers are interfering.
SUBJECT:
And you can't call them.
GENERAL:
No. But you... (sighs)
...according to the alien, you're "visible" to R'mel. Whatever that means.
SUBJECT (calmly):
That means I'm cracked.
(pause)
And they look through the crack. Sometimes. If they want to.
The General is silent. The subject stands up.
SUBJECT:
Where is he?
GENERAL:
In the main hall. Waiting.
[INTERIOR. COMMAND ROOM. THE ALIEN STILL STILL.]
The subject enters. The air grows thicker. The light dims. The alien doesn't move, but its presence is felt like a pressure in the temples.
The subject approaches. Stops. Looks at it. Then, closes his eyes.
SUBJECT (quietly):
I don't know how to do this.
(pause)
But you're there. I know. You've always been.
(deep breath)
Listen.
He doesn't scream. He doesn't speak. He just thinks. More powerfully than ever. An image in his head: a city that hasn't disappeared, but is no longer there. An alien who isn't alive. People who are afraid. And - a calling. Not with words. Not with thoughts. With feeling.
First - silence. Then - a tremor. Barely perceptible. As if reality itself sighed.
On the floor, next to the Subject, a light shadow begins to appear. Not light. Not darkness. Something in between. From it, a silhouette emerges. Thin. Tall. Translucent. Inside are stars. The face is invisible. But the presence is unbearably alive.
VISITOR (R'Mel):
You called. We have come.
The Subject opens his eyes. He is trembling. Blood flows from his nose. Tears flow from his eyes. He smiles.
SUBJECT (whispering):
They... hear.
The General takes a step forward. The Necrocivilization alien moves for the first time—slowly turns his head toward R'Mel. There is silence between them, but it resounds louder than any scream.
Contact established.
[INTERIOR. COMMAND ROOM. DARKNESS. THE AIR IS STATIC, AS BEFORE A STORM.]
R'mel's figure stands motionless. Her form seems carved from the night sky: stars twinkle within, and beyond is a spacesuit like smooth obsidian. It doesn't reflect light. It dampens it.
Nearby is an ALIEN from the Necrocivilization. Their interaction is silent, but the tension between them is palpable throughout the room. The SUBJECT sits on the floor, breathing heavily, but remains conscious.
The GENERAL watches. He understands nothing, but he senses that something momentous is happening.
R'MEL (a voice without a source, echoing in the minds of everyone present):
We understand. You found him in the Displacement. He is not a thing. He is a structure. A symbiote. A key.
ALIEN (mentally):
It belongs to those who seek. To the Pilgrims. But we cannot convey. We are dead. We are carriers, not guides.
R'MEL:
Our forms are shells. Avatars. We cannot accept the key. It requires a living being.
Pause. The room grows colder. The subject raises his head.
SUBJECT (quietly):
What key?
ALIEN:
A symbiote. An entity that can open the way through the Displacement. To see the true route. To understand where the Pilgrims are—and where they will be.
R'MEL:
The key is not just knowledge. It is a living being. It requires a host. An organism. A consciousness. And consent.
The General steps forward.
GENERAL:
You mean... that one of us must... become this host?
ALIEN:
Yes. Otherwise, the key will perish. And with it, the way.
R'MEL: We can't take it. But we can pass it on. Through a living person.
Pause. Everyone looks at the Subject. He's already understood. He stands up. Unsteadily, but confidently.
SUBJECT:
I've already "cracked," haven't I?
(smile)
Then I'm coming.
GENERAL (sharply):
No. Stop. We don't know what this will do to you. It could kill. Or worse.
SUBJECT:
And if I don't accept, the Pilgrims won't get the key. And everything they seek... everything we seek will be lost. Forever.
He looks at the alien. It doesn't move. But a pulsating, almost maternal warmth emanates from it. Strange, lifeless... but not hostile.
SUBJECT (quietly):
I agree.
[INTERIOR. COMMAND ROOM. THE LIGHT DIMMS. THE ALIEN APPROACHES.]
He raises his hand. From his palm, a pulsating spiral of light slowly rises. It resembles nervous tissue, but is not organic. Within are tiny flares, like miniature supernovas. This is the key.
He reaches for the Subject. The Subject does not retreat.
When the structure touches his chest, the air explodes with light. Not hot, but deep. As if someone had opened a door to another reality, and it was peering into him.
The Subject screams. Not from pain. From overwhelm. His eyes flare like lamps. The veins in his neck glow from within. He sees.
[VISUAL SEQUENCE / SUBJECT'S INTERNAL PERCEPTION]
He floats in the Displacement Space. Before him are threadlike routes, endless and alive. He sees the Pilgrims—not as beings, but as movements, like a song resounding through space.
He knows where they are. And he knows where they are going.
He knows how to catch up with them.
[RETURN TO REALITY]
The subject stands. His eyes are calm. He breathes evenly. He is not the same person he was a moment ago.
SUBJECT (quietly):
I know the way.
R'Mel bows his head. The alien retreats. The General is silent. He senses that this man is now more than just a man.
He has become the key.
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