An afternoon sun shone brilliantly from up in the clear blue sky; its warm rays barely pierced through the leaves of the tree he sat under. The air was hot and muggy, or it would have been if not for the breeze that kept things comfortable. On the wind that blew the tall green grass came the fragrant scent of nature that he knew so well. The calming cocktail of dirt and plants, and if he paid close attention, he could smell the sea's salt. He closed his eyes and held his breath, and indeed, he could hear the waves as they crashed against stone.

All of it was familiar. The sun, sky, air, wind, smells and sounds all whispered to the experienced ecologist. They told him exactly where and when he was. An island on the Mediterranean Sea, the time was roughly 5pm, so that would put him in Greece.

The Professor knew lies, and all of it was lies. This was not a Mediterranean island despite how closely it matched all his expeditions to the region. That sun wasn't the sun, and that sky wasn't his sky. All of it from the air he breathed, the scents he smelled, and the sounds he heard were new sensations. He knew with absolute certainty because only the leaves and trees told him the truth.

He was in an alien world, just as 28-284 promised. For nowhere on Earth could anyone find trees of black leaves, black bark, and certainly none with golden fruit that reflected sunlight. Charles Morgan had been teleported off-world, directly out of his office in Boston, and dropped off in the middle of a forest.

"No, not a forest." He muttered to himself as he turned 360 degrees in his chair to look closely at the hundreds of black trees around him. Every one in sight had spherical golden fruit hanging from branches. But what caught his attention was the spacing between them. It was perfectly even; each tree was a little less than eight meters away from the next one. "An Orchard."

Morgan leaned back in his chair and prepared to ponder the implications of being in an orchard rather than a forest. Only that train of thought was derailed as his seating situation finally occurred to him. He was sitting in his padded chair! Whether it was 28-284 or this Mistress, they teleported them both. Not only was he the first man to set foot on a habitable world he wasn't born in, but his chair could claim the same for all furniture.

*Whoosh* A gust of wind shook all the trees simultaneously.

The Professor glanced behind him in the direction of the sudden gust. The pitch-black leaves were already starting to settle down, and that made him uneasy. The wind hit everything evenly, almost like a wave crashing on the beach. Something like that should be-

His body went rigid even before he understood what was happening. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and a ridiculous urge to halt his breathing threatened to enforce its will. Morgan's instincts were screaming at him to stop, become silent, and draw as little attention to himself as possible. Above all, he felt that if he were to look forward again, it would be his death. That could only mean one thing. Someone was standing before him, and they didn't feel human in the slightest. The Scientist had to force himself not to smile as he was representing all of Humanity today. It wouldn't do to scare the poor extraterrestrial.

"That was an impressive trick with the wind," Morgan said as he ignored instinct and turned to face the newcomer. Was the intent to intimidate me, or did you just want to —" The Scientist had to stop talking in order to process what he was seeing. "Surprise me?"

The so-called alien was… They greatly resembled a… Morgan was struck by…

The Scientist let out a disappointed sigh before he could reign in his emotions. This was his first direct contact with non-human life, and he almost felt… cheated. If that made any sense.

The newcomer stood only a meter away, and to Morgan's immense irritation, they looked far too human for his liking. The not-man, for they resemble a typical male more than not, was a 193cm tall beefcake with muscles that rippled even when he stood still. Their facial features were the epitome of masculine beauty. They struck Morgan as notably Greek with their almond-shaped eyes and full lips. It was hard to tell since they lacked body hair, save for the eyebrows. They wore nothing but laceless shoes and baggy pants tied down at the waist and ankles. At least the alien stood out a little from the average gym adonis, thanks to their eyes and skin. The latter was a hue of reddish-pink that appeared to pulse slowly, shifting between darker and lighter shades. The former literally glowed a deep shade of violet as they swept over Morgan.

They bowed deeply from the waist, though not deep enough to conceal the disgust in their eyes.

"My apologies if this one surprised you, honored guest." They said in perfect English and delivered it with a cold politeness that made clear the apology was more formal than genuine. "What you felt was an attempt to locate your position within the grove. You were meant to be teleported directly to my Mistress's pavilion. However, the apples of the orchard have a tendency to… complicate such Skills. It is their nature. Again, you have my sincerest apologies for any inconvenience."

"No apology needed." Said Morgan as he left his chair and offered a hand to shake. "As for the unplanned detour, I'll consider it a stroke of luck. This is a beautiful orchard you have here."

The tan hunk from outer space looked at his offered hand like it was covered in fire ants. The shithead must have been under orders to treat Morgan as respectfully as possible. So, despite the apparent hesitation, the beefcake took the offered hand.

"The orchard belongs to my Mistress and her alone. However, I will take the compliment on her behalf. We must hurry over to her at once. Teleportation is not possible this deep inside the orchard, so we must continue on foot."

They made to let go, but the Professor didn't let up on his grip.

"So not only do you speak excellent English, but you also know human customs such as the handshake. It's nice to know that Humanity has such fans out among the stars, I'm flattered." Morgan tilted his head to the side as he continued to hold the limp hand in a one-sided shake. "If you know that much, then you should know that we humans exchange names during such greetings. However, since I am ignorant of the exact details of your kind, why don't we add species and preferred pronouns to the mix."

The violet eyes of the not-man flashed, literally, at his words. They gripped his hand again, far harder than before. The force never made him uncomfortable, but it was evident that the alien was significantly holding back their strength so as not to purposely cause harm. The Professor had often been in similar situations when working with black bears or big cats. The message was clear, this creature from another world had the power to causally crush the elderly man by accident. However, as E.T. was about to learn firsthand, power was relative.

"I couldn't help but notice you haven't said anything in quite some time. Did I make you nervous or something?" He said emotionlessly once a full minute went by. "Tell you what, I'll go first to show you how it's done. My name is Charles Morgan, I am a human, and I use he/ him. There, it isn't too hard. Now you try."

"KA-KAKAKA KA!" The sound suddenly erupted from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

It startled them so much that each party let go and stepped back. However, the Professor forgot that the chair was directly behind him and, as a result, fell clumsily on the seat. The alien looked up at the sky, their face a mask of confused fear. Morgan looked skyward, too, but what little could be seen through the trees showed no apparent signs of danger. The sound kept going despite the lack of a noticeable origin. The longer it went, the more details he was able to grasp. It wasn't a sound so much as the voice of something. It was higher pitched and almost melodic despite the ear-shattering volume. By the time it suddenly stopped, Morgan could swear it was the laughter of some giant.

"What the Honored Guest heard was the Mistress, your Host. This is her World. She sees all and knows all that happens here. Clearly, she finds you… amusing." They gave the sky another conflicted glance before facing the way they came. "Come along, please. We mustn't delay any further."

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The Professor watched them go, curious to see how long it would take for them to notice. They moved quickly, far faster than a 77 old man ever could. In seconds, the alien had disappeared into the orchard and-

"Well, hello again, stranger." Morgan deadpanned as the E.T. suddenly stood in front of him again, followed shortly by a slight gust of wind. "I thought you said teleportation wasn't possible right now."

"This one did not teleport." They said, and a vein throbbed on their bald head. "I ran back here when I noticed Honored Guest wasn't behind me. Is there an issue?"

"You ran back? That's incredible; I couldn't even see you move." The Scientist praised and meant every word. "As for issues, there are two, I'm afraid. First, you move too fast even when you're not running. I am old by my people's standards, and these poor bones don't move like they used to. It might take us a while to reach the Host. Thankfully, you've shown multiple times that your strength and speed far surpass mine. So why don't you carry me in my chair? We can't keep your Mistress waiting after all, now can we?"

"...Yes, of course." Agreed the not-man in a growl as several more vain became visible. "This one should have thought of that. Please-"

They stopped talking as Morgan put up a hand. They blinked rapidly in surprise, the violet eyes winking in and out of existence.

"Before you grab my chair and we start speeding through the orchard like a pack of wolves after prey, we must address the final issue." Morgan raised his pointer, ring, and middle fingers. With each word, he lowered a finger in the same order: "Name. Species. Pronouns."

*Pop! Pop! Pop!*

The sound of the alien's knuckles cracking from how tightly they clenched their fist filled the air like corn kernels in a microwave. They gnashed their flawless white teeth and closed their glowing eyes so hard Morgan half expected them to tear from the force. Their chiseled chest heaved in and out as they struggled to control their breathing.

The Professor said nothing, did nothing; he simply waited for his answers. After all, he was representing all of Humanity, and so he could afford to show patience. What he could not afford to do was show weakness.

While the tantrum was already entertaining, the best was yet to come. For a brief moment, the not-man regained discipline over their boiling rage, only for it to crumble again when they looked at Morgan, who held up three fingers again as a friendly reminder.

They lost control again, but now the skin seemed to lose its cool as well. Instead of steady shifts in color, the organ began changing in what resembled a Belousov-Zhabotinsky reaction. All over their exposed flesh, tiny black rings appeared sporadically and grew in size like ripples in a pond. As rings grew and eventually disappeared behind them, more formed, ready to take their place on this humanoid kaleidoscope.

“L-Lysander of Clan Nyx.” They managed to choke out, their eyes bloodshot from the strain. “I am a- a Hellenic Kraken… I use 'He' and 'Him' as well."

"A Kraken?" Asked the Scientist, truly astonished despite his lack of expression. "I wouldn't have guessed. We don't have real Krakens on Earth, but the animals the myths are believed to be based on are fascinating. They're called giant squids, and," he gave the self-proclaimed shipwrecker's measly two arms the side eye, "they have eight arms."

"I only have two arms in this form." Lysander snarled in outrage.

"An unorthodox display of hubris but very well." He shrugged and felt proud to still remember the reference after half a century. Morgan shimmed in his chair to get a firm position for take off. "We can go n-"

*Thunk*

He felt the sound more than heard it as something hit his head, bounced, and squarely fell onto his lap.

"-Ow." Finished Morgan tonelessly.

The two men looked at the perpetrator, gleaming on his legs. The Scientist picked the object up for a closer examination, and as expected, it was one of the fruits. The Kraken called it an apple earlier, and Morgan was inclined to agree. It had nearly all the iconic characteristics. A small ridged bottom led to a larger curved top, and the stem protruding from the core even had a large leaf. The all-black stem and leaf would have given it away as something strange, even if the golden skin didn't shine like polished metal. It was light in weight like a fruit, but when Morgan tried digging a nail in, the skin proved as unyielding as appearance would suggest.

Did it require a tool to open, or was this grown for a different purpose? The squid-man said they had some kind of effect that threw off teleportation. Could they be a safety measure to dissuade anyone from popping in unannounced? The Scientist would have given up a few limbs to take it back to the lab, but it wasn't his to take.

"The Apples are a Dao Treasure my Mistress cultivated herself." Lysander spoke up as if sensing his dilemma, his skin returning to its original pulsing pattern. "She and the World are as one. "It was no accident that it found its way to the Honored Guest's possession. Keep it until you are told otherwise."

"If you say so." He nodded, his mind racing to develop tests capable of measuring space-related manipulations. "How far is my Host? I must admit I'm getting increasingly eager to meet her."

"Her pavilion is located on the other side of the island, roughly 150 Li from our current location." Lysander closed the distance between them and, in one fluid motion, crouched, gripped the base of the chair with one hand, and lifted over 110kg of man and chair like steak on a serving tray. He added in a smug tone, "Normally it would take this humble servant several seconds to cover that distance. Sadly, that great of a speed might harm the Honored Guest, so we will travel at a more moderate pace." Lysander waved the free hand in front of Morgan, and suddenly, he could no longer feel the gentle wind against his skin.

The Kraken started to move, starting at a walking pace. However, with every step, the acceleration nearly doubled. The trees around them became a stomach-churning blur of green, black, and gold within the first dozen steps. The bitter Lysander must have been moving at bullet train speeds, yet the air didn't bother Morgan in the slightest. He stuck a hand out in front of him and was shocked when he felt a solid wall where there was none.

"Is this some kind of force field windshield?" Asked the Scientist as an endless barrage of questions threatened to overwhelm him. When no answer came, he looked down at the speedy squid. "Did you hear my question?"

The Kraken didn't seem to acknowledge him. He just kept running with a satisfied smile…

A suspicion crossed Morgan's mind, and working off that thought, he shimmed forward on his seat to give his leg more reach. Sure enough, he felt another invisible barrier under him. He kept reaching out in all directions, and soon, the truth became clear. The shithead had somehow encased him in a force sphere, one that was wind and apparently soundproof.

"Clever squid." He snorted and settled back in his chair. "Well played."

Irritated that he had to travel in forced silence, Morgan's more practical side decided this was a good development. It's been nonstop from the first minute on this planet, and he needed time to puzzle something out. Disregarding the apparent similarities between here and Earth, something more subtle had been gnawing at him. A repeating theme here stuck out as strange even compared to everything else.

A Greek theme. The climate being a near-perfect copy of islands like Rhodes and Crete could be chalked up to coincidence. But this was an alien world, yet names like Lysander, Hellenic, and Nyx were being used—names tied to Greek mythology. Then, there was the apple.

The Professor brought it close again and watched the scenery pass in his mirror-like surface. This fruit was familiar to him, or at least he had heard about something like this before. Somewhere deep in his brain sat a memory covered in dusty cobwebs that held a story. One with a golden apple and Greek gods…

The frown deepened as he reached for it, careful not to lose it. Folklore and myths were far from his specialty, but what Western child hasn't heard the stories of the Olympians and pieces from Homer's epics? Morgan closed his blue and brown eyes and pressed the fruit against his forehead. With his free hand, he began to pull at a dreadlock, and with each tug, a word came to mind as if he were somehow pulling it free. Trojan, siege, war, wedding… Wedding?

That word broke the dam of time, and a memory came flooding back to him. In high school, the class had been forced to read the Iliad. A poem recounting a tale about how an argument among the gods led to the destruction of Troy, an ancient city. The argument started at a wedding all the deities attended, all save one. A goddess who stirred up trouble among the guests by crashing the ceremony and offering a golden apple to-

A warm, prickly sensation from the hand holding the apple caused him to snap his eyes open. The feeling wasn't uncomfortable, but it was enough to draw his attention. He examined it and saw nothing… Nothing until he rotated the golden apple and exposed the side covered by his hand. He sucked in a breath as words that were definitely not there earlier had appeared. They were flawlessly carved into the skin without breaking through to the flesh as if the fruit had grown like that.

The message read: 'To The Fairest.'