A doomsday clock had started ticking years ago, signaling the end of the world as everyone knew it. On an otherwise ordinary day, humanity's very essence was shaken to its core when two harsh realities came to light.

First, we were woefully unprepared.

Why were the United Nations and various independent countries so unprepared? That was the second reason.

We weren't alone. Earth was not the only inhabited planet... humans were not the only hyper-intelligent creatures out there. We were not ready for the consequences.

Those mysterious lights streaking across the sky? Planes and boats vanishing in the Bermuda Triangle? The Roanoke Colony? Strange disappearances of people and animals that were never seen again

All of those were the result of species we neither understood nor chose to acknowledge.

They waited patiently until the perfect ambush was set. Humanity was already on a path to destruction, with the planet dying from unethical practices by corporations and governments. People were consumed by petty politics and senseless disputes. The Earth, long before the invasion, was like a powder keg surrounded by lit matches.

Nobody expected a flamethrower to suddenly appear.

The invasion was never meant to be a fair fight. Our extraterrestrial foes knew that human nature sought to understand the unexpected. The moment of hesitation when we lowered our weapons and hesitantly tried to negotiate was an opening that left us in ruins.

Skipping the technicalities of warp speed and hyper-light threading with neutron stars, let's focus on the story's climax.

The Arctic was the stage where North America, Europe, and Asia coalesced their forces. A massive metal metropolis, tailored for war, served as Earth's last stronghold before the planet was completely taken and humanity fled.

Humans still lived on Earth, desperately hiding from the Infernoids that razed their land. The lucky ones, AKA the affluent of those with connections, managed to escape the planet to live as refugees among the stars. Our combined army had lost battle after battle, reduced to scraps and guerrilla units. But we had yet to give up entirely.

The story of Earth was coming to an end, and the final pages were being written.

An explosion shook the Arctic's core, sending metal shards flying and dark smoke billowing into the air.

That's where we were, clad in black tactical gear - vests, body armor, and helmets. Our formation was tight and controlled as we carried bulky assault rifles chambered in .50 BMG, the largest caliber we could manage.

I was the leader; I raised my hand, and the remaining five members halted, awaiting my command.

"Masks," I ordered, my voice raspy and deep from years of shouting commands. We quickly donned gas masks, connecting them to oxygen tubes on our backs, and activated a switch.

Nitrogen gas began to flow into the air around us, enveloping us in an invisible shield.

Our timing was perfect, as beastly roars soon assaulted our ears. Charging towards us were creatures that resembled demons - humanoid, but composed of dark stone and volcanic fire. Their bodies crackled, with jagged edges protruding and curved, gnarled horns crowning their heads. Their forms bursted into raging fire as they charged.

Not only did they look absolutely terrifying, we knew these beings possessed vast intelligence. But their battle strategy was straightforward: they used fire and wicked claws to reduce their foes to ash and chunks.

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After years of war, we were prepared.

The aliens charged into the nitrogen gas flowing from our packs, their fiery exteriors fizzling out without ample oxygen. We opened fire, our large caliber bullets tearing their stone bodies to shreds.

More beasts poured in from all directions. Hundreds of them, screaming with rage, lunged at us. But we stood fearless in the face of death itself, determined to complete our mission.

We plowed through the horde with unyielding resolve.

Our bullets and nitrogen, however, were not infinite, and our human limits became apparent. One by one, my squad, humanity's last hope, fell.

But each death brought us closer to our ultimate goal.

I burst into the command room, alone. The remainder of my squad had stayed behind to hold off the enemies and give me these crucial moments.

This was the command room of Earth's united forces, where the world's greatest minds had gathered to defend our planet from the invaders and failed.

But they left one final move, a last-ditch effort against the aliens.

I grabbed a thick tablet from my hip, pulled out a wire, and plugged it into one of the many computers scattered throughout the room. Instantly, the command room sprang to life, code racing across the screen faster than I could comprehend.

All I could do was wait. My final gambit was about to unfold. I just had to defend this room.

The Infernoids, as humanity dubbed them, were a nomadic alien race that thrived on high-temperature planets. A hive-minded colony, they incubated their young in eggs that absorbed oxygen in ridiculous amounts. Their sole purpose was to burn, and once they depleted a planet's oxygen, they had to find another to fuel their flames.

Earth was an ideal target. It had ample oxygen and a vulnerable, underdeveloped species. The Infernoids had already migrated their nests and queen to Earth, their army growing exponentially.

Earth no longer belonged to humans, but we left a housewarming gift.

Deep beneath the base, where the Infernoids had yet to look, lay humanity's combined nuclear arsenal.

Many had been used in our battles in space, but over ten thousand nukes remained dormant under the ice.

Infernoids functioned like a hive mind, their queen commanding them. Our brightest minds theorized that eliminating the queen would cause the rest to follow, but we had never come close to assassinating her.

This was our last hand. As humanity's remaining general, I faced the most difficult decision in Earth's history.

I had given up on reclaiming my home, but if humans couldn't have Earth, then nobody could.

My final plan was to destroy the planet.

It didn't matter how powerful the Infernoids were; nature had laws. They, like us, couldn't survive a planetary explosion. The queen, nestled in her fortress-like nest in Barcelona, would share the same fate as her subjects.

It was a suicide mission, and my comrades who joined me knew this day would be their last.

I, too, had acknowledged my fate long ago.

The script on the tablet finished.

The table was set.

I could hear the Infernoids drawing near. My comrades had held them off for as long as possible before finally succumbing.

They did good. We were going with a bang, an explosive send off.

I remember peering out a window. A light, brighter than the sun itself, pierced through the Arctic ice and enveloped the city.

All I saw before my demise was the sun rising over the horizon. It was breathtaking.

Seconds later, Earth was obliterated in a furious inferno. The remnants of humanity watched from the safety of spaceships, far away, as their home shattered into pieces.

But after more than a decade of war, humanity had shed enough tears. They stoically observed the destruction of their home.

The Infernoids, bereft of their queen, were doomed. Their young, the hope for their future, were eradicated. Their hive mind crumbled, leaving them as mindless beasts with barely any semblance of camaraderie or kinship. They tore each other and their ships apart in blind rage.

Earth was no more, but humanity had triumphed.

They had won.

Adrift in space with no destination, humans finally set their sights on rebuilding.