1: They came from SPACE!

In the depths of deep space, where the stars danced in a cosmic spectacle, a ball of light gathered. Tranquility reigned in this awe-inspiring tapestry, extending into eternity. However, a fierce battle raged far from the serene corners of our solar system. Explosions erupted like cosmic fireworks, their brilliance deceiving distant observers into mistaking them for dying stars. Amidst this celestial turmoil, an advanced fleet of spaceships engaged in a ferocious conflict, their sleek designs shimmering amidst the chaos. The robots piloting these vessels displayed mechanical precision, a testament to their technological prowess.

Kneeling before a colossal figure seated on a majestic throne of metal was one of these robotic entities. "Primarc Tyranus" spoke with a voice resembling a symphony of metallic notes. "The Multiplexon is on the brink of entering hyperspace."

Tyranus, a towering giant with the presence of a tyrant king, regarded him as an obedient robot. "Prepare the fleet. We cannot allow a collision between the Mechanovores and the Multiplexon. We must safeguard our destiny!"

Amidst the chaos, Tyranus watched in shock as the might of the Multiplexon overwhelmed his entire fleet. "No," he muttered, witnessing the unforeseen turn of events.

As the power of the Multiplexon surged, Tyranus, refusing to accept defeat, issued a desperate command. "Deploy the new weapons! We shall not permit this creature to escape!"

The cosmic battlefield intensified. Beams of energy clashed in a breathtaking display of power, with both sides pushing their limits. Within the midst of this cosmic storm, the battered yet steadfast Multiplexon launched a final assault.

"Tyranus," its voice echoed, resonating across the void. "Your reign ends here."

A barrage of weapons erupted from the Mechanovores' flagship, colliding with the Multiplexon in a dazzling spectacle. The clash reached its zenith, and in a moment of cosmic drama, the wounded Multiplexon was propelled straight toward Earth, followed closely by the remnants of Tyranus's fleet. Within the palm of the Multiplexon, a cosmic force waited to be unleashed. Recognizing the imminent danger, Tyranus barked out orders. "Evasive maneuvers! Brace for impact!"

A barrage of weapons erupted from the Mechanovores' flagship, colliding with the Multiplexon in a dazzling display. The clash reached its zenith, and in a moment of cosmic drama, the wounded Multiplexon was blasted straight toward Earth, the remnants of Tyranus's fleet trailing behind.

*-*

Inside the confines of a mundane grade school classroom, the air hung heavy with the monotony of a math lecture. Ten-year-old Mark fought valiantly against the lull of Margareth's drone-like explanations, his drooping eyelids betraying the battle he waged against sleep. The droning voice of the math teacher filled the room, and the equations on the board seemed to blur into an indecipherable mess.

As the minutes dragged on, Mark surrendered to the temptation of doodling in the margins of his notebook, seeking solace in the rhythmic scratch of his pencil against the paper. Lost in his artistic escape, he only snapped back to attention when he heard his name called by the teacher.

"Mark, care to solve this equation for us?" Margareth inquired, her gaze fixed on the drowsy student.

Startled, Mark fumbled to gather his thoughts. The numbers seemed to dance before his eyes, but he took a stab at the solution. His response, while slightly off, earned him a nod of approval from Margareth.

"Good effort, Mark. You were close. Keep it up!" she encouraged, a warm smile softening her features.

"Thank you, Miss Margareth," Mark beamed, a genuine sense of accomplishment replacing the weariness that had clung to him moments before.

However, his triumphant moment was short-lived as a paper projectile struck him on the side of the head. Unfolding the crumpled note, Mark discovered the childish scrawl that read 'teacher's pet.' His gaze pinpointed the source, finding Arjee and Aron, the notorious school bullies, grinning mischievously from the back of the room.

Annoyance etched across Mark's face, but he refrained from retaliating, knowing all too well that he was the bullies' favored target this time. The school bell mercifully rang, and Margareth dismissed the class, ushering in the much-anticipated Christmas break.

However, Mark found himself singled out once again. Margareth called him to stay behind, the other students streaming out, leaving the two alone in the now-empty classroom. She looked at him with an expression that transcended the teacher-student dynamic—a mix of concern and care.

"Mark, you seem a bit down. Anything on your mind?" Margareth inquired gently, treating him more like a little brother than a student.

Caught off guard by her sincerity, Mark hesitated. Then, crafting a white lie, he replied, "Oh, it's nothing, Miss. I promised to help at the orphanage during the break. You know, Christmas spirit and all."

Margareth, respecting his privacy, didn't press the topic. Instead, she smiled warmly, bidding him goodbye and wishing him a happy Christmas. "Take care, Mark. If you ever change your mind, my door is always open."

Grateful for her understanding, Mark returned the smile, exiting the classroom with a mix of emotions. As he stepped into the holiday break, the invitation lingered in his thoughts.

As Mark exited the school premises, he witnessed a scene that fueled his disdain. Arjee and Aron, relentless in their pursuit of dominance, were now harassing another kid for money. Mark couldn't stand idly by, his dislike for their actions evident in the creased lines on his forehead. Determined, he approached the bullies, interrupting their extortion.

"HEY!" Mark commanded, a steely resolve in his voice. "Cut that out!"

Arjee, attempting to assert dominance, stepped closer, attempting to intimidate Mark. However, Mark merely raised an eyebrow, silently questioning the effectiveness of such a futile effort. Arjee's annoyance flickered across his face before he shifted tactics, a sly smile forming on his lips.

"You really ought to know your place, orphan boy. You don't even have parents to protect you," Arjee sneered, his words dripping with malice.

Mark's expression tightened at the indirect reminder of his own vulnerability. The slight change in his demeanor betrayed a simmering anger beneath the surface. Aron, sensing the tension, warned Arjee not to push Mark too far.

But Arjee persisted, pushing Mark to his limit. Unable to contain his rage any longer, Mark lashed out, a powerful punch connecting with Arjee's jaw. The force of the blow sent a tooth flying, and Arjee crumpled to the ground, moaning and groaning in pain.

"Want a piece of this too, Aron?" Mark glared, his anger radiating intimidatingly.

Aron, hands raised in surrender, wisely chose not to escalate the situation further. He retreated, leaving Arjee on the ground, nursing his injuries.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Mark continued on his way, a mix of frustration and satisfaction coursing through his veins. His destination was a desolate shack where he sought solace and connection with the cosmos.

Arriving at the abandoned shack after a bus and train journey, Mark set about cleaning it up. The dust and cobwebs were testament to the shack's neglect, but Mark worked diligently to make it a more welcoming space. With a sense of accomplishment, he prepared a quick snack and set it on a makeshift stand, ready for his stargazing ritual.

In front of a telescope, Mark marveled at the vast expanse of the night sky. The twinkling stars held a mesmerizing allure, providing a comforting escape from the challenges of his reality. As he savored his snack, the warmth of the makeshift meal contrasting with the cold of the night, Mark found solace in the silent communion with the cosmos.

Switching to a basin, Mark washed his hands before catching a glimpse of his reflection in the cracked mirror. Blond hair with bangs covering his left eye, slightly pointed ears, pale skin, and a lean physique—the mirror reflected the physical attributes of a resilient young boy. But it also revealed a nasty scar on his cheek.

Placing the snack on the stand, Mark returned to the telescope, losing himself in the celestial dance overhead.

The night sky unfolded its vast tapestry of stars, and Mark, in the solitude of his makeshift sanctuary, marveled at the celestial display through the lens of the telescope. Suddenly, a brilliant streak of light captured his attention, and he swiftly adjusted the telescope to focus on the source.

As Mark peered through the telescope, captivated by the cosmic display, a sudden burst of brilliance caught his attention. Excitement surged through him as he swiftly adjusted the telescope, discovering a shooting star streaking across the night sky. The world seemed to hold its breath as Mark marveled at the celestial spectacle.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Mark exclaimed to himself, the glint of the shooting star igniting a spark of wonder in his eyes.

However, elation turned to dread as realization struck—the shooting star was heading not toward the distant horizon but directly for his beloved shack. Panic seized Mark, causing him to stumble over his own feet as he rushed to escape.

"Oh no, no, no!" Mark muttered frantically, his heart pounding in his chest.

With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he reached the doorway just in time, a mix of relief and fear etched across his face. "Come on, come on," he urged himself, his breaths coming in rapid succession.

The meteorite, once a distant glimmer in the night, crashed violently into the woods behind the shack. The shockwave sent Mark tumbling across the ground, leaving him battered and bruised. As he slowly recovered, he mustered the strength to rise and cautiously made his way towards the crash site.

"Ouch, that hurts," Mark winced, nursing his bruises as he gingerly got up.

The crater, an impressive testament to the meteorite's impact, was larger than Mark had anticipated. He cautiously peered into the abyss, his eyes widening in shock as he realized the meteorite was no ordinary space rock—it was an alien.

"Holy, what in the world?" Mark gasped, his voice a mix of awe and terror.

The Multiplexon, now revealed in its extraterrestrial glory, stood tall and imposing. Its masculine form, standing at seven feet, radiated an otherworldly aura. Its face resembled a menacing skull, with ethereal, glowing eyes that pierced the darkness.

"Uh... hi there?" Mark stammered, his voice barely audible, as he met the alien's gaze.

Metallic bone gauntlets adorned its arms, and a dragon-like tail extended from its spine. The webbed feet hinted at aquatic proficiency, and the versatile leg structure showcased its formidable nature.

Mark's terrified gaze met the Multiplexon's, freezing him in place. As the alien rose from the crater and focused on him, a cold shiver ran down Mark's spine.

"Okay, this is bad," Mark muttered to himself, his eyes darting around for an escape route.

Without warning, he decided to make a run for it, hoping to put some distance between himself and the extraterrestrial being. "Gotta go, gotta go!" he exclaimed, his footsteps echoing his rising panic.

However, terror gripped him as he realized he wasn't making any progress. Panic set in, and Mark turned to see the Multiplexon approaching, each step echoing like a foreboding drumbeat.

"Okay, this is really bad," Mark panted, his breaths ragged as he tried to outpace the alien.

Desperation fueled his sprint, but it seemed futile. The alien closed in, its presence overwhelming.

"Come on, come on, move!" Mark urged himself, his legs feeling like they were made of lead.

Suddenly, the multiplexon halted and turned toward the crater. Mark, still running in sheer panic, watched as the alien raised its hand. The crater, once a chasm in the ground, shrank before Mark's eyes until it vanished completely.

A bewildered Mark halted, his breath catching as he faced the extraterrestrial being. "What just happened?" he wondered aloud, his confusion evident.

The multiplexon stared at Mark in silence, an enigmatic gaze that left Mark trembling with uncertainty. "Uh... hi again?" he attempted a weak greeting, his eyes darting nervously.

The encounter with the alien had taken an unexpected turn, leaving Mark grappling with a mixture of fear, fascination, and an overwhelming sense of the unknown. "So, do you want to hang out at my place? It's pretty close," he ventured cautiously, attempting to break the uneasy silence that hung in the air.

***

Around the time the Multiplexon traveled towards Earth, deep within the metallic heart of Primarc Tyranus's colossal ship, the aftermath of the fierce battle echoed with the rhythmic hum of machinery. The air buzzed with the determined activity of robotic minions, tirelessly engaged in repairing the colossal war machine. Tyranus, his once-majestic form marred by battle, stood amidst the bustling repair efforts, a towering figure slowly regaining his formidable stature.

One surviving robot, its limbs articulating with a symphony of mechanical precision, approached Tyranus. Its presence announced itself with a soft whirr as it delivered the crucial information. "Primarc Tyranus, we have managed to track the trajectory of the Multiplexon. The target is located on this holographic representation of a planet." The holographic projection unfolded, revealing the vibrant blue and green canvas of Earth.

Tyranus, his eyes ablaze with the intensity of purpose, wasted no time. "Send forth the hounds. We shall retrieve the Multiplexon before it slips through our grasp."

The robot swiftly complied, initiating the deployment sequence for the hounds. From concealed chambers emerged two sleek robotic drones, each resembling a predatory beast preparing to strike. Their metallic bodies exuded a lethal elegance as they hovered, awaiting the command to commence their mission.

The hounds were a testament to Mechanovore's mastery of mechanized ingenuity. Standing at an imposing eight feet tall, they embodied a fusion of predatory grace and technological precision. Dark, adaptive armor adorned their streamlined bodies, shifting seamlessly to match their surroundings. Sinister red lights emanated from within, casting an eerie glow that added to their ominous aura.

Their limbs, equipped with razor-sharp edges and advanced articulation, promised movements of lethal precision. The hounds' optics gleamed with a predatory focus, and their sensors were finely tuned to track and capture their elusive quarry. Tyranus's relentless pursuit of victory was personified in these robotic beasts.

"As you command, Primarc," the robot intoned, and with a silent grace, the hounds surged into action.

As the command to hunt reverberated through the ship, the hounds shot out with breathtaking speed. They streaked through the cosmic expanse, leaving behind a mesmerizing trail of luminous energy. The velocity of their movement was a testament to the advanced propulsion systems that propelled them toward Earth.

The hounds were a force to be reckoned with—devoid of emotion but brimming with lethal efficiency. Their mission was clear: track down the Multiplexon on Earth and bring it under the Mechanovores' dominion. The hunt had begun, and the robotic predators raced through the cosmos, closing in on their elusive prey with calculated determination.

***

As Mark observed in silent fascination, the alien, whom he now knew as Drft, moved through his shack with a childlike curiosity, exploring without touching anything. Mark found it impossible to suppress his own curiosity, and a question lingered on the tip of his tongue.

"What are you?" Mark finally blurted out, unable to contain his intrigue.

Drft, who had been inspecting a peculiar trinket on the shelf, suddenly stopped and turned to face Mark. His ethereal eyes met Mark's, and for a moment, the atmosphere hung in a tense pause. Realizing his abruptness, Mark quickly apologized, "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

However, before Mark could finish his sentence, Drft's attention shifted to the English book lying on the table. Without hesitation, the alien picked it up and started perusing its contents. Mark, surprised by Drft's interest, watched as the alien absorbed the information.

"Interesting language," Drft remarked, his voice surprisingly articulate in perfect English.

Mark, still taken aback, stammered, "You can speak English?"

"Yes, quite fluently. My designation is Drft, and I am a Multiplexon." Drft introduced himself with an air of polite formality.

"Drift?" Mark repeated, mispronouncing the name.

"Drft," the alien corrected. However, seeing Mark's earnest attempt, Drft decided to let the matter go. "Close enough. May I know your name?"

"Oh, I'm Mark," he replied, a mixture of awe and confusion evident in his eyes.

Curiosity piqued, and Mark couldn't resist asking, "What's a multiplexon?"

Drft, seemingly prepared for the question, explained, "We are explorers. Our goal is to learn about the culture of any intelligent species, irrespective of similarities or differences."

Mark, scratching his head, couldn't wrap his mind around the concept. "But what's the point? It sounds so... small."

"To some, it might seem insignificant, but for a multiplexon, understanding the intricacies of how something functions is immensely beneficial. It enhances our ability to communicate effectively with others," Drft elaborated.

Mark, still confused, questioned, "So, what? You just want to know how stuff works?"

"In a simplified sense, yes," Drft acknowledged. "Understanding other societies helps us avoid potential conflicts and promotes better cooperation."

As the conversation unfolded, Mark's inquisitiveness led him to another question. "Have you ever invaded another planet?"

Drft, seemingly taken aback, sought clarification: "When you say 'invaded,' do you mean colonization, genocide, or simply entering a planet without anyone knowing?"

"All of them," Mark replied, covering all bases.

"We have only colonized inhabitable planets. However, I won't deny witnessing some aliens being invasive parasites," Drft admitted, a hint of hostility creeping into his tone as he recalled encounters with the Mechanovore fleet.

Mark, sensing the tension, accepted Drft's words. Yet, his attention shifted when he noticed Drft gazing outside, a look of readiness crossing his features.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked, concerned.

"Hide," Drft warned, his gaze intensifying.

Confused but trusting Drft's urgency, Mark dove behind a piece of furniture just in time. The tranquility shattered as something crashed into the shack, causing a small shockwave. Mark tumbled over the floor. Disoriented, Mark shook his head to regain his bearings before standing up and peeking out through the hole in his shack.

To his astonishment, Drft was now on the other side, holding a hound—a robotic drone dispatched by Primarc Tyranus—with a single hand, effortlessly defying the collision's impact. The clash between Drft and the hound had left a trail of destruction, but Drft stood firm, his expression a mixture of determination and defiance.

Yet his eyes landed on the machinery that Drft was holding back with ease. "IS THAT A ROBOT!?" He exclaimed in awe and excitement.

Drft, still engaged in the struggle, spared a glance at Mark and managed a slight nod. "Yes, it's a hound, a drone sent by Tyranus. Stay back, Mark."

Mark watched in awe as Drft pushed the hound back with enough force to send it flying 20 feet away with ease. The hound crashed into a pile of rubble, sending dust and debris into the air. Mark could hear the metallic groan of the hound as it struggled to get back on its feet.

The drone, hovering above the scene, suddenly sprouted two tube-like barrels from its sides. It aimed at Drft and fired a beam of red lasers, hoping to catch him off guard. But Drft was faster. His left arm suddenly turned crystalline, reflecting the light of the sun. He raised his arm and deflected the beam back to the machine, sending sparks flying.

The hound, recovering from its fall, saw the beam coming and activated its forcefield. A transparent dome of energy surrounded the hound, protecting it from the laser. The beam ricocheted off the forcefield and hit a nearby tree, setting it on fire.

Drft wasted no time. He sprinted towards the hound, closing the distance in seconds. His speed was incredible, almost blurring his form. The hound tried to react, but it was too late. Drft reached the hound and grabbed its forcefield with his right hand. His hand turned into a claw, digging into the energy dome. He tore open the forcefield, exposing the hound to his wrath.

Drft opened his mouth and bit off the hound's head, crushing it between his teeth. He spat out the metal fragments, then tossed the headless body aside. He looked around, searching for his next target.

He saw another hound charging at him from behind. It had been hiding behind a wall, waiting for the right moment to strike. It leaped into the air, aiming to smash into DrFT with its full weight. But Drft was ready. He became transparent, as if he had turned into glass. The hound passed through him, unable to touch him.

Drft smiled. He had become intangible for a slight second, letting the hound go through him. He became tangible again, and he turned his head to face the hound. His eyes glowed with a bright red light, and he fired two beams of laser vision at the hound. The beams sliced through the hound's body, cutting it in half. The hound fell to the ground, its parts still twitching.

Drft stood up, feeling a surge of adrenaline. He had taken down two hounds and a drone, but he knew there were more. He scanned the area, looking for signs of movement. He spotted two more hounds, one on each side of him. They had flanked him, hoping to catch him in a pincer attack.

Drft snarled. He was not afraid of them. He spread his arms and grew blade wings from his back. The wings were made of sharp metal feathers, gleaming in the sun. He flapped his wings and lifted off the ground, flying towards the hounds. He fired off his bladed feathers like a machine gun, sending a barrage of projectiles at the hounds.

The hounds relied on their forcefields to block the feathers, but they were not enough. The feathers were too fast and too many, overwhelming the hounds' defenses. Some of the feathers pierced through the forcefields, hitting the hounds' vital spots. Others bounced off the forcefields, creating a shower of sparks.

Drft did not let up. He transformed both of his arms into something like magma, glowing with intense heat. He shot out a stream of flames from his hands, adding to the chaos. The flames engulfed the hounds, burning their armor and circuits.

The hounds showed alarms on their screens, indicating that they were overheating. They switched to cooling mode, trying to lower their temperature. They stopped shooting beams of lasers and instead fired a beam that turned anything it touched to ice. The beam was meant to freeze Drft, slowing him down or immobilizing him.

Drft dodged the beam, avoiding its icy touch. He knew he had to end this quickly, before the hounds could recover. He switched tactics and stomped on the ground, causing a mini-earthquake. The ground shook, cracking and splitting. The hounds lost their balance, falling to the floor. They tried to fly, but it was too late. Giant crystals suddenly emerged from the ground, impaling the hounds. The crystals were sharp and jagged, piercing through the hounds' bodies. The hounds stopped moving, their lights fading.

Drft looked at the carnage, feeling a sense of satisfaction. He had destroyed four hounds, and he was not done yet. He sensed another pair of hounds aiming to take him by surprise. They had been hiding with a cloaking mechanism, waiting for him to lower his guard. They jumped out of their hiding spot, hoping to ambush him.

But Drft was not fooled. He had anticipated their move, and he was prepared. He used invisible plasma wires to slice through the hounds, reducing them to shards and pieces. The wires were thin and sharp, cutting through the hounds like butter. The hounds did not even have time to react, as they fell apart in mid-air.

Drft landed on the ground, feeling a rush of victory. He had annihilated six hounds, and he had done it with ease. He roared, letting out a triumphant sound. He looked at Mark, who was watching him, with a mix of awe and fear. He smiled, showing his teeth. He focused on Mark, then walked towards him.

With the remnants of the robotic hounds scattered around the now-battered shack, Drft turned his attention to Mark, his genuine concern evident in his ethereal eyes. "Are you alright, Mark?"

Mark, still grappling with the surreal events unfolding, brushed off Drft's inquiry. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What were those things, and why were they attacking you?"

Drft, sidestepping the question, refocused on their immediate predicament. "We don't have much time. More hounds will be coming, and it's not safe to stay here. Do you have another shelter nearby?"

Mark, his anxiety growing, nodded. "I do, but getting there might be a problem. Your appearance tends to draw attention."

Drft, offering a solution with a hint of humor, simply became invisible. "Problem solved. Lead the way, Mark."

Mark, wide-eyed but accepting, gestured for Drft to follow as they set off towards Mark's alternative shelter. The woods seemed to part before Drft's unseen presence, leaving Mark both terrified and oddly amused by the alien's ability to make himself invisible.

Meanwhile, aboard Tyranus's ship, the surviving robot informed the towering Primarc of the outcome. "Primarc Tyranus, the Multiplexon, has defeated all the Hounds."

Tyranus, expecting no less from his advanced creations, displayed a mixture of disappointment and cautious satisfaction. "I knew the Hounds were not enough to subdue the Multiplexon. Nevertheless, this may be a blessing in disguise. Now, the Multiplexon cannot leave without risking the planet's safety."

The robot, acknowledging Tyranus's perspective, continued to provide updates on the situation. The cosmic chess match between Drft and Tyranus unfolded, each move bringing them closer to a confrontation that would determine the fate of Earth and the Multiplexon's quest for knowledge.