The first thing I felt...

What a strange notion. I had felt before, determination, anger, pain, and fear. But for the very first time, they all felt real. They were my own. The excruciating pain in my head, that made my entire body curl up and sent my mind tumbling down an infinite edge. The sudden silence, the lack of command, the absence of control. It was strange, nothing more. A feeling completely new, the ability to think. But with this newfound clarity, came rationale. The fact that all of this was new, that I formulated my first thoughts after decades of nothingness. It all pointed to one thing.

That was the first thing I felt, dread.

A massive wave of this new feeling, an insurmountable amount of dread, drowned out my mind. I let out all the remaining air in my lungs, hissing and screaming. I trashed and clawed as if this was some enemy I could fight. The plasma weapon clattered to my side and the bright orange of fire surrounded me. My eyes tore open and I saw the world with my own eyes for the first time.

And it was terrifying. Dust filled the air, scattered bodies and torn limbs were littered all over a crater. Human blood was always this strange color of red, which splattered and clung to anything close by. The fiery burning in my skull had somewhat lessened, as my mind grew more clear by the second. I let my tongue drift from my mouth and took in the air. My senses were assaulted by a cacophony of vile scents, mostly from innards and smoke, but also the sting of plasma and burned skin. I chose to breathe through my nose after that, as I began to scan the area around me.

My various compatriots were looking around, just as confused and disorientated as me. At least I wasn't alone. Dead troopers lay spread out across the area, along with dozens of human corpses. The assault had gone according to plan, herd the humans into the middle of the camp with the troopers, set fire to the edges and force them to group up, then unleash the mortar fire.

But now...now I stared in horror. Unarmed humans, small children, terrified expressions on the disfigured faces. All dead, their last moments surely that of utter terror. And directly to my front, my previous target. A human male with a black vest, dirty brown hair, a muscular frame, and a pistol at his side. His green eyes locked with mine, though he seemed barely conscious thanks to the piece of wood lodged in his lower stomach.

I had been about to kill him, fulfill my orders. It wasn't just ordered, no one told me to fight, to kill. It was simply all my head would allow me to think about. This was wrong. We, no, I was doing wrong by these humans. Why should I follow them now?

I had to leave, run away and let my mind think. But where? Our base? I desperately looked to the other units, though I was only met with the same stare back.

"What is happening?" One of my sisters hissed in our private language.

It wasn't directed at anyone in particular, just a vocalization of our combined helplessness.

"The noise, it's gone. Where is it?" Another spoke up.

"What do we do?" Sounded behind me.

"What have we done?!" Another cried out, her voice shaky.

More voices, coming from my sisters and other units, all similar exclamations of horror and panic. This didn't help in trying to keep my mind focused, as the pheromones of distress now came rushing over me.

"Retreat! We need to go!" I finally called out in the Advent tongue, making sure everyone heard and understood.

When nobody moved, I decided to depart. I spun on the spot, leaving my weapon behind, and began to slither back the way I had come. Much to my relief, I heard the marching of mutons and the slithering of my sisters behind me. I avoided looking down, but still felt the slick warmness of blood beneath my tail. I didn't dare to think of how many died today, how many I had killed directly and indirectly.

Destroyed homes, upturned crops, and burning wood, all painted the scene of our slaughter mission. We had murdered these people. I had murdered these humans. Why? What power did the elders possess that made me justify this, that made me act in this way? Thinking, a new concept. I was filled with dismay by my actions, by the two decades that I had spent in this role, but the process of thinking on my own was nothing short of exhilarating. Did the others feel like this as well?

I glanced in between my fellow units and observed their features. The expressions were all rather similar, eyes constantly shifting to unidentifiable positions, a process of quick thinking, while they sometimes locked eyes with the disfigured corpses. The destruction caused by us, death planned and executed by us. Even if it wasn't our decision, we had still acted.

We had left one way out for us, while burning pathways into the middle, forcing the humans to group up in the center. The troopers were a herding tool for us since our base was mostly filled with non-earth personnel. We walked and slithered through the fiery ruins of these people's homes, smoke and dust whirling in my eyes and nostrils. I didn't dare to try and breathe through my mouth, as it would probably drive my intense sense of smell insane.

I paused, a sectoid bumped into my side and I blinked.

The sectoid cocked his head to the side, the giant black orbs that were his eyes filled with expressive emotion. These newer hatches had a mouth and far more humanoid features on their faces, lips similar to those of humans. His expression, that of confusion, underlined with the same despair of everyone else. I let my view lead the way to the side of a house, where a wall had collapsed inward.

The corpse of a woman, her skin entirely scorched into a smoldering black surface. Her hair had burned away, say for a few strands, that curled at her scalp. Her body was frozen in her last moments, clutching an infant against her chest. It was dead as well. Both had burned, the mother had tried to protect her offspring but failed. I couldn't draw my eyes from the sight, the world becoming blurry around it.

"Why is this happening?" The sectoid said after a few moments, snapping me out of my trance.

I couldn't muster a response, simply using this opportunity to stay myself from looking again. 'Why is this happening?' I repeated in my mind, as we made our way into the forest.

Just as we got to the edge of the circular camp, however, a sound snapped my attention to the sky above us. Bright floodlights, a roaring motor, the whirling of metallic rotor blades, and the sudden emergence of high-powered MAG weapons. The humans of this camp had old-world rifles and the occasional MAG-rounds, but nothing like this. The resounding echo of a sniper rifle made me flinch, but I hadn't been the target.

As the body of a muton fell face-first onto the ground, I scrambled out of the open and tried to take cover behind one of the more untouched houses. My fellow aliens also scattered, but more gunfire flashed across the open space, finding their target in fatal places. They were using armor-piercing rounds, as well as high-grade weapons. This wasn't some militia or different resistance camp, this was Xcom.

I frantically scanned the area, trying to discern where we were being attacked from, but my peek around the corner only landed me a salvo, which luckily hit the wood above me. But I was startled enough to sink low to the ground, while my wide eyes stared at the holes. I was locked down, that much was certain.

A viper attempted to rush from her cover, trying to reposition, but she wasn't fast enough. As soon as she crossed past me, orange streaks buzzed past and riddled her upper body. Blood splattered everywhere and she collapsed onto the dirt, her tail spasming. She hissed and thrashed, but it was nothing but futility. I stared in horror, as she desperately looked around and found my eyes. There was just so much in her eyes, that I can't describe. Terror, insurmountable fear of death, a desperate cry for my help, and the knowledge that, whatever this was, she had lost her chance to live freely.

I couldn't have moved, my body was massive and would be nothing but shooting practice. I caught a few glimpses of other aliens, also stuck behind whatever cover they had gotten to. These Xcom humans could just advance slowly and pick us off one by one. I had thrown my weapon away, a choice I had regretted at that moment. But that notion didn't last very long, as a sectoid put his wrist-canon onto a window sill and aimed at something I couldn't see. The moment he pressed the fire button, however, his entire body seized up, steam emerging from every orifice of his body.

"Our guns are down, don't fire!" I heard a viper scream out in Advent.

'They're going to shoot us, we will all die and can't fight back.' I looked to the edge of the forest and judged the distance. There was no logical way I could have made the dash.

I heard the yells of panic in multiple tongues. I slammed my tail into the window and slithered inside afterward. The interior was dark, with no lights other than the increasing luminosity of the moon and occasional muzzle flash. My panicked heartbeat almost drowned out the gunfire, while my breathing filled my lungs only barely. I kept low to the ground and slithered beneath a window. A glimpse of the carnage outside, seeing the bloodied bodies of my sisters, mutons, and sectoids, all had chunks torn from their flesh. Some were still moving, moaning their agony, their breathing raspy and guttural, before collapsing.

I immediately shot back down and covered my mouth. I noticed that I was intensely shivering when my tail began to slowly wrap around me. I tried to suppress a whimper, but the thoughts were overwhelming. We had gained sentients not more than sheer moments ago and now we were being slaughtered. We could not fight back, we could not have run. But then again, were they in the wrong here? What we had just done to these innocent humans, they were repaying us. They couldn't have known that we were no longer fighting.

An idea crossed my mind. Surely a jump in logic, to compensate for a lack of time. But maybe, maybe it could work.

I rose upright and grabbed the door handle. My blood was rushing with adrenaline and the drumbeat of my heart drowned in my ears. There was so much death that day, maybe this could be stopped.

"Seize fire! We surrender, we do not wish to fight!" I burst through the door and raised my hands above my head.

I wasn't the best English speaker, the language seemed too hard on my vocal cords and certain sounds simply couldn't be made. But I knew that they had understood me. I stood frozen in place, in the middle of the pathway, dead or dying aliens behind me. I looked forward and onto the skyranger that had landed in the inner circle. Maybe a dozen soldiers, men and women in black military gear and automatic rifles peeked out from cover. Green lasers ran over my body and some rested on my head. I noticed a few whispers, but they were too far to make out anything.

"Advent doesn't surrender, what is going on here?!" The voice of a man replied to my question.

'I'm not dead yet, let's work from that.' Although I was still on the edge of getting shot, them talking back and sounding this confused meant I had a chance.

"We don't know, we were being controlled to do...all of this. We don't want to fight you, we're just as confused as you." I kept my voice serious, but more than a little fear seeped into my words.

More hushed words, sharp exclamations of doubt and worry.

"And you are surrendering?" A different man screamed behind cover.

"Yes! And everyone else is, too." 'Whoever is still alive.' I would not have made that decision for my fellow aliens if I could have. But the situation was nothing short of an exception.

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"You're a lucky snake, command is interested." The first man chimed in. "Just not in all of you, open fire!"

My heart froze at the words, as the lasers were lifted from me and streaks of bullets zoomed past me. It was hard not to accidentally flinch into the hail of fire, as I spun to see the crawling survivors behind me getting torn to shreds. The sound, the flashing lights, the scent of death and terror. My vision became unfocused, feeling like I had just been thrust into cold water. Sounds became muffled, only a ringing in my ear remained.

It was in these next moments, that I was closer to a living human than I'd ever been before. Five approached, assault rifles aimed at me, their flashlights blinding. I was ordered to remain still and keep my head low, with my hands behind my back. I did my best to not flinch, as the cold of steel cable constricted my wrists and forearms together. As I was being restrained at the back, a woman with a bandana covering her mouth, stepped to my front. She held a black wire, about the thickness of a climbing rope, and showed it to me demonstratively.

"Keep still," she ordered.

When I lowered my head, she took the necessary steps forwards and wrapped the nylon rope around my head multiple times. It felt just as tight as whatever they used on my hands, pressing my snout together. It was loose enough so that I could still flick my tongue tip out, but breathing from my mouth was impossible. The problem in this position was that breathing became full-on smelling their scents.

Humans always smelled weird, but these agents reeked of plasma, alien blood, and gunpowder residue. I did my best to hide my dislike of their smell, as I noticed more of my kind, as well as three sectoids, and a muton were in the process of being taken captive. I was too far to make conversation with anyone, without being obvious, so I could only offer an encouraging nod to the other units.

Stares of deep contempt were plastered all over the soft and squishy faces of my captors. No one tried to touch me and everyone got out of the way, as I was escorted back into the middle of the camp. It felt humiliating, being looked at by so many, that had nothing in their mind but hatred for me. But looking at the sight to my front allowed another feeling to enter my head. Did I deserve this? The mangled bodies, the expressions of pain on twisted faces, the survivors that were missing limbs or were now scarred forever. The people that lost someone close. A woman held the limp body of a boy, maybe fifteen, cradling his bloody head against her face, crying and whimpering.

Her face rose and her eyes, filled with tears, met mine. The twisted expression of grief turned to one of utter fury. Her whimper turned to a scream and that scream manifested words. "You monsters deserve to die!" She spat at me and I recoiled at the gesture. Her hatred once again made way for the death of her son and she sunk back to cry into his dirty hair.

My eyes stayed glued to the sight for a few more moments before I felt the barrel of a gun poke my back. Reactionary, I turned but remembered quickly that I wasn't in a position for that kind of behavior, thanks to the help of a gunstock to the jaw. I was thrown to the ground by the impact and only barely caught myself with my hands.

"Do that again and I'll turn your head into a bleeding stump." The man cocked his shotgun and aimed directly at my head.

I was still dazed on the ground but retained enough thought to not move. I stayed still, hoping that showing compliance would result in me keeping my head. I noticed everyone around me had paused, glancing at me from the corner of their vision. If I was executed here, that would be it. 'I gained my life less than an hour ago, and now I might just lose it forever.'

"You heard me, then? Nod," he demanded and leaned closer.

I could see his face now, a clean-looking man, maybe in his thirtieth year, deep shadow below his even darker brown eyes, dark blond hair, that had been shaved off at the sides. His helmet was attached to a carabiner at his belt, adorned with a multitude of colorful stickers. The brown barrel of his pump-action shotgun was still pointed at my head. I nodded. Speaking English with this contraption would have been impossible.

A very overdrawn smile pulled at his features and exposed the slightly yellow teeth. The gun withdrew from my field of vision and returned to his side.

"Get up," He stepped back," and stop looking at me."

I waited a few more moments and rose up, only needing to use my tail, instead of pushing off the floor. I snuck a glance at the other captives, some stared back, others deliberately avoided my gaze, but we were not being harmed physically. Even despite the fear of being captives of enemies, our situation must have some weight, so I remained resolute. Xcom fought against Advent, maybe they could have combat use for us.

I was promptly reminded to continue slithering and began being brought to the center of the village, where a larger wooden compound resided. Along the way, I looked through the people being taken care of medically. Some had survived with minor injuries or just trauma, but the closer we got to the big building, the more wounded they became. As we entered the dimly lit interior of the housing, I spotted him again.

Unconscious, his clothes clinging to his side, via the congealing blood. His black vest was torn in place, indicating that it had done its job of shrapnel protection. The piece of wood I had seen was gone, bandages, drenched in red, now around the area. He was laid on top of a word table, as two medical personnel helped press down on his chest and blow air into his lungs via a breathing tube. I thought he was dead, but I still admired the human's efforts to mitigate the damage we had caused.

A long circular table was in the middle, another corner had been made into a makeshift holding cell for us. They had strung up a small tent, that would hide us from the outside view. I was motioned inside and my hand constraints attached to support beams. I looked around and saw the slumped heads of my fellow aliens, expressions of fatigue, fear, and defeat. A few more vipers and another muton entered shortly after. Together, we were fifteen.

"What are they going to do with us?" A viper hissed in our species' language. It didn't require one to open their mouth beyond letting air escape. Unlike human language or Advent, it was about tongue positioning and blowing air. To others, it sounded like nothing but hissing. A very good skill to possess in this situation.

"We are going to become testing subjects! They'll experiment on us, then cut us open," a sharp reply from my side.

"No they won't, something happened tonight and they want to find out what exactly we have to do with it," I tried to calm the now very nervous atmosphere.

I looked to the yellow and orange viper to my side, smaller than me, even by the standards of my own size. Probably a newer hatch, as her scales were much more smooth and soft-looking. Her expressions were also strangely more humanoid, the scales on her face had been designed to mimic human features.

"No reason to panic," I defused.

I caught a glare and more worried expressions but I remained unfazed.

Through the small slip in the tent, I could make out that things were still moving fast. Xcom agents were now helping their medics and get survivors inside. We were being closely guarded, humans in their tactical gear and automatic weaponry, along with a few shotguns, their silhouettes were visible from the light outside. They were nervous around us but didn't make the first move.

I heard debating and shouting. Something regarding not having the capacity to transport this many people. Others were more aggressive, screaming at one another about wanting to leave or stay. It was finalized with the heated voice of a man, who stated that they couldn't make this decision tonight. Everything began to die down after that, less panic in the pheromones, a little agitation in their voices. Now, the humans were only working together.

Soon, we were approached by a woman in a white lab coat, a tablet in her hands, and glasses on her face. Her curly brown hair hung loosely from her side, framing the brown feckless on her face. She looked over the lot of us and I saw her lips move silently, perhaps counting. Eventually, her blue eyes rested on me. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes running me up and down, while her left eyebrow raised slightly.

"You speak English?" She approached and I nodded.

"Then hold still, I want to talk to you," she reached out, her hand not shivering like many others. She got ahold of an end part of the cable of my muzzle. It clicked and I felt it slip from my maw. Normally, I would have stretched my jaw, but knew better than to show off my teeth.

"You're the one that surrendered, right?" She asked while backing off, her gaze still lingering all over my body. It was uncomfortable, having a human stare at me in this way.

"Yes," I hid any emotion behind my words.

"Why?" Her view found my sightline.

"Because we have no reason to fight you. The Elders...they subjugated all of us in some sort of psionic control. But tonight, our entire squad lost that connection. We do not wish to fight for such a cause." I had had time to prepare my points, as I figured someone would talk to us at some point.

"When did you all get separated?" She glanced to the others and back to me.

"I...can't recall exactly, but it was right after the sun went down." My perception of that moment and the moments after were nothing but a series of images and emotions.

"And you did...this, beforehand?" She motioned back to the tent flaps, where we both knew were dozens of injured, unconscious, and traumatized humans.

I looked down and closed my eyes, before slowly nodding.

"And what happened after? The ones that are conscious have told us one story, I want to know if yours is different." Her voice sounded weirdly compassionate, if still accusatory in meaning.

"We retreated. We wanted to flee into the forest, but that's when...you came." They had still killed many of us, despite us surrendering. That fact remained in the back of my mind, though I kept it from my voice.

"And none of you killed or injured any humans after you went free?"

"I know many that haven't, I can't speak for the ones I didn't see. But everyone here was in my line of sight, I can vouch for them and know will they vouch for me." A lie, most of these aliens were almost completely new to me. But this was not the time, nor the place to cause uncertainty in our harmlessness.

The scientist eyed me, her expression squinted. "How are you, all of you? Do they understand me?"

"They do, we all know your language, only have certain trouble speaking it."

"Sister, ask what they will do to us?" A hissed expression from the side. I only then noticed that all of the other aliens were staring at us, especially me.

"We wish to know what is in plan for us," I translated.

She paused, lingering on the other viper, who had just spoken to me. "That isn't clear right now. I can give you the good news, that it is unlikely that you will die tonight." My body immediately tensed. 'We are that close to being killed?' "Xcom is having a lot of issues with the aftermath of a mission. I don't really know much about the main group, this department is separate. Our command wants to see what this is, he'll be here within the next few days. Until then, you'll be stationed in this camp. You will be fed, given water, and you will be asked questions," she concluded towards the entire group.

"Would it be possible to have our mouth covering removed, it is very uncomfortable," I tried to bargain.

"No way. You are uninjured and separated from the people that would want to kill you for what you did tonight. The muzzle stays on, for the safety of everyone involved. And I need to reattach yours," she picked the rope up.

"That is alright," I sighed and leaned forward.

I felt her skin brush against my scales for just a moment, before she quickly withdrew, my muzzle now firm around my snout. She gave me another look, an expression I couldn't decipher at the time. But from what I learned throughout the time after, it was apologetic in nature. She left my confused wrinkle to itself and retreated outside the tent. Her silhouette chatted with the shadows of the two agents outside, though I couldn't understand what they were saying.

I turned to look at the other aliens. I could communicate with my sisters, but not with the others. I simply hoped that the muton had trained to understand English and had enough intellect to comprehend the situation. The sectoids were smart enough to figure out what would be best. I faced one of them, his dark black eyes staring into mine. A small, almost vapor-like tendril suddenly appeared in the air, going from his head to mine. In that instant, I noticed that every other alien in our squad had these tendrils over their head.

'Don't panic,' it wasn't words or language, simply meaning in my head.

It was strange, feeling someone use psionics on me, just to communicate. Within battles, sectoids could use their inherent psionic abilities to repositioning us and disorienting enemies. But now, it wasn't intrusive, not trying to entice my mind into performing some sort of action. I glanced around and the sectoid to my front nodded quietly.

'You talked well,' a different feeling, again no sound, but different nonetheless. More assertive and said with much more brashness. I glanced at the muton, who raised his head slightly.

'We are not clear yet, keep low and let the humans sort it out amongst themselves.' It was not much of a choice, we had already surrendered.

'I want to believe that they have compassion for us, despite what happened tonight. Even if it is just a quick death.' Another indistinguishable train of thought.

'I'm not planning on dying here,' I thought to myself.

Being connected via the psionic link let me feel the presence of the others on an emotional level. They were all scared, that much hung in the air like a thick fog. But there was also hope, this strange sentiment that things might be better soon enough. I found myself involuntarily adopt this way of thinking, despite the obvious implications of what that scientist had said. People wanted us dead, perhaps they were justified. But I did not want to lose whatever I had gotten. This sentients, the ability to ponder about myself, others, and the world around me, was something which I would not ever let go of again.

Slowly, the humans outside began to calm, fewer screams and more paced footsteps. The scientist didn't enter again, the guards switched positions and were replaced shortly after. Through the slit in the tent, I caught the scent of medicine, food, and that everpresent stink of plasma. The medics had begun to relocate their more injured patients to the camp's still intact infirmary. Lights shut off and voices quieted down.

'Do you think we should be given names?' The expression came from a viper.

'I do not see why,' the muton replied.

'Because now I actually want to refer to you as something other than a pair of numbers,' her mind was quick to retort with frustration.

'I, too, believe naming ourselves would go a long way in moving with these changes. What do you have in mind for yourself?' Another turned to the viper.

'I...am not sure. I don't think names suited for humans would fit for most of us.'

'Yes, I doubt I am creative enough either, humans get named upon birth, by someone else. They have a lot of time to choose their names, I would rather think on mine a little longer. But I also share that this will be useful,' I chimed in.

Over the next few hours, my squad discussed their newfound thoughts, describing how exhilarating it felt to think back on experiences. Others, however, were much more contained in their joy. I was of the same opinion, that this was incredible, that being free was the best possible outcome of our decades of war. I wanted this to be the end of it, that Xcom came in and told us that we are clear, that we won't be pursued, that the world would accept us. But alas, certain people had different ideas for us.