In the chamber, pulsating softly with an eerie glow, an egg-shaped container suddenly split open with a resounding crack. A rush of vibrant green fluid spilled out, revealing a naked, shivering figure lying on the cold metal floor. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. He was disoriented and weak.

Ugh, my head... Where am I? What is this place?

Astra's eyes darted frantically around the unfamiliar surroundings, searching for any semblance of familiarity. The monitors lining the walls hummed softly, displaying an array of complex data streams and live feeds. The technology was foreign to him, deepening his sense of unease.

His eyes widened as they focused on the figure in front of him.

“A—an alien...? It’s impos—”

The words caught in his throat, making it difficult to speak; his mouth felt heavy.

The figure standing before him was an alien, dressed in a sleek black outfit that contrasted sharply with its green skin and white hair. The alien's eyes were shielded by a pair of modern glasses, adding an air of intelligence. Its green body contrasted sharply with its large, pointy ears and sharp teeth.

There is no way aliens exist. Damn it! Am I in a prank show or something?! The alien looks a bit too real, though.

"It's a failure," the alien stated coldly, its voice echoing in the chamber.

Astra strained to understand the alien's words, his hearing was muffled and distorted. The alien's mouth moved, but the sounds were foreign and incomprehensible to him.

What language is that? I know a lot of languages, but not this one. Did they even create a fake language? Wow, talk about dedication.

The glasses-wearing alien with an air of authority moved towards the array of screens, his fingers swiftly pressing buttons.

"Come here," he commanded, his tone unwavering.

The chamber's entrance parted with a mechanical whoosh, revealing two figures clad in jet-black armor and a transparent helmet. The guards' appearance resembled that of the glasses alien, but unlike him, they lacked sharp teeth and hair.

"Alright, that's enough," is what I want to say, but I can't move my mouth. Tsk. How long is this going to take!?

Each guard carried a unique-looking gun at their hip, the weapon's grip and barrel adorned with a distinctive blue sphere that seemed to glow with a soft, pulsing light. The sphere, about the size of a tennis ball, sat centered on the gun's frame, giving the weapon a unique and futuristic appearance. They bowed deeply to the glasses-wearing alien, their eyes never leaving the ground.

"Yes, Professor Hrug," they echoed in perfect unison.

Wait, no way—can this actually be real?

Astra thought, feeling shocked as the truth hit him.

Without acknowledging them, Professor Hrug gave a dismissive wave of his hand and turned his attention to the screens, seemingly losing all interest in Astra. Astra's mind raced. A single thought pierced through the confusion:

Stolen novel; please report.

No, I have to get away from here!

The armored figures approached Astra. One of them, with a rough grip, extended a choker towards him, its red light pulsating ominously. He tried to move, to resist, but overwhelming fatigue consumed him.

Curse!

Before he could muster any more resistance, darkness enveloped him, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

⊶☽☬☾⊷

Astra awoke in a dimly lit cell, the cold metal walls pressing in on him from every side. The walls seemed to close in on him, the ceiling felt like it was pressing down, and every breath he took felt labored and shallow. His heartbeat was a relentless drum in his chest, each thud a reminder of his growing panic.

“Yes, a confined space—just what I fucking need!” he said, dripping with sarcasm.

The cell wasn’t minuscule; there was enough room for 2 people to lie down. But for someone with claustrophobia, it might as well have been a coffin.

“Calm down, Astra. Calm down—just take a deep breath; it's all going to be okay,” he said, trembling and comforting himself like a child.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. The air was stale, and the silence was oppressive, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the confined space.

Astra's eyes darted around the cell, searching for any signs of an exit or any weaknesses in the walls, but there was nothing. The walls were seamless, and the floor was made of unyielding metal. In one corner, there was a squat toilet and a small sink with a tiny mirror above it.

No windows… no doors… just these damn four walls!

A wave of panic surged through him, his breaths becoming rapid and shallow. His mind raced, trying to grasp at any thought, any strategy to escape the suffocating confinement.

Stay calm, Astra. Panicking won't help. Think.

He forced himself to slow his breathing, closing his eyes and imagining a spacious landscape. He then focused on his breathing. Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. He counted quietly, tapping his fingers in a steady rhythm against his thigh for grounding. After several hours, he finally began to feel calm.

I'm definitely going to kill that four-eyed freak! But first, I need to think about what happened.

It took Astra a moment to reconcile the facts and make sense of what had happened to him. The last thing he remembered was being in his room, seated at his desk, fighting against the pull of sleep. Now, he found himself here.

"Damn it, did the station get attacked by aliens?" Astra pondered, his voice echoing softly in the small cell.

Despite all the advancements humanity had made, he had never truly believed in the existence of aliens until now. But faced with the undeniable truth of his predicament, Astra couldn't deny the unsettling reality that stared back at him from the stark confines of his prison cell.

"If I were abducted, there would be a high chance that other humans were also abducted. But what are their reasons?" Astra muttered to himself, struggling to comprehend the reality of his situation.

I wonder if my crewmembers are here too. I hope they are safe like I am.

Attempting to recall the events leading to his abduction, a sharp pain pierced through his head, causing him to wince. A sense of dread washed over him, and fear gripped his heart.

"What the hell happened to Earth!?" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the silence.

The memories of his home planet seemed to slip through his fingers, leaving him with an unsettling void.

I need to find other humans and figure out what's going on. But how am I supposed to do that?

Astra's thoughts trailed off, uncertainty clouding his mind.

As Astra's eyes roamed around the cell, they landed on a mirror above the sink. Curiosity piqued, he stood up and approached the mirror, gazing at his reflection. Staring back at him was a youthful face framed by black hair that fell just above his brow, with a choker around his neck emitting a pulsating red light. His eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Huh? Wait, why do I look so young? I look like a teenager now, and I’ve gotten shorter! What did that four-eyed freak do to me? My old self looked better! And what’s up with my eyes? Why is my left eye black and my right eye blue?"

He stared intently at them for a moment, trying to remember why they were different. Suddenly, the memory clicked, the NeuraEye system flooding back to him, integrated into his genetic code and responsible for his unique eye colors.

A memory surged forward—an important detail he had almost forgotten. With renewed focus, he exclaimed,

"System!" his voice filled with anticipation.

A glitch flickered across his vision before a holographic interface materialized before him. A smile spread across his face; this was something familiar, something from his world.

𓆩✧𓆪