Chapter 723: This Isn’t the Sci-Fi I Asked For

[I fucked up the name again and i had no intention of changing it. Wikus = Carl.]

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Ever since Carl began to mutate, the film had been steeped in a suffocating atmosphere of dread.

His mutation started with forced experimentation. To test the functionality of his alien arm, he was made to fire a weapon—and shoot a living, breathing alien.

Once the tests were complete, they planned to dissect him alive and harvest his "biological assets," despite his desperate pleas to his father-in-law.

But the order had come from his father-in-law.

Only when Carl managed a desperate, wild escape from the surgical ward did the pressure begin to ease ever so slightly.

He stole an alien weapon and gunned down the MNU guards, fleeing the facility.

Inside the theater, the audience erupted in low cheers.

They thought this was it—the protagonist's grand turning point. That he would reclaim his identity and return with an alien army to exact vengeance.

If this were a commercial blockbuster, maybe it would've gone that way.

But this was not that kind of film.

Carl transformation only worsened.

As more and more of his body morphed into something alien, the film plunged deeper into despair.

Colleagues, friends, family—all turned their backs on him. To them, he was now a monster.

The only one who showed him warmth… was the very alien he had bullied earlier—Christopher Johnson.

A harrowing scene unfolded on screen: grotesque images of human experimentation on aliens—vivisections, skinning, brain extractions. A child alien's decapitated head, its innocent eyes wide open in eternal confusion...

The entire theater was silent. All 3,520 venues airing the premiere fell into the same stunned hush.

Yes, humans have always known, on some level, that "humanity is far from noble."

Animals kill to survive, to fill their bellies. But humans? We slaughter for profit—whales, seals, elephants...

How many species had been skinned, butchered, and wiped out by human greed?

Where was the final boundary of human morality?

Martin used his lens to pose this question, dragging the audience into deep contemplation.

These weren't just disturbing visuals—they were a mirror.

The faux-documentary style, the handheld camera work, the grounded realism—everything combined to immerse the viewer.

Especially in scenes of conflict and violence, the raw footage forced you to feel. You couldn't just sit back and pretend it was fiction.

Whether during Carl's mutation or during the alien-human interactions, the cruelty was viscerally real.

Viewers unconsciously sank into the plot, unwilling to miss a single frame.

Kevin Thomas, trying hard to resist the story's pull, scribbled in his notebook:

"In the face of power and profit, humanity has completely forsaken its final moral line and shred of conscience."

Onscreen, Carl fled, enduring horrific pain as he searched for a way to reverse his condition.

But things only got worse.

Captured by local gangsters, Carl was tortured. Their leader believed consuming his mutated arm would grant them alien powers.

This absurd, primitive greed highlighted yet another layer of human ugliness.

After enduring unimaginable torment, Wikus escaped again.

He called his wife.

"Don't give up on me… sweetheart, please…"

Somber music swelled.

Beneath the night sky, in the trash-strewn slums of District Nine, Carl sat weeping into the dirt, voice trembling as he begged the voice on the other end:

"Believe me, I'm not like those filthy bugs, I swear—I love you. Don't leave me…"

"I want to believe you, Carl," his wife sobbed. "But… please, just let me go…"

Click.

The line went dead.

Carl clutched the phone, sobbing, eyes hollow with despair.

Then, suddenly, he snapped.

With a guttural scream, he hurled the phone and began clawing at his own body, ripping off sheets of bloodied skin.

He collapsed to the ground, curled in a ball, wailing.

The camera zoomed in. Black mucus ran from his nose and eyes.

Terrifying. Unbearable.

"Oh my God…"

"Carl… this is too much. Even his wife abandoned him…"

"It's those goddamn rumors…"

At the start of the film, when humans spread lies about the aliens—how they slept with humans, or ate human flesh—audiences didn't think much of it.

But now, seeing the media smear Wikus the same way—slandering him with the same baseless, cruel nonsense—the audience felt their blood boil.

When even his wife no longer believed him, the despair was suffocating.

Tears fell freely in theaters across the country.

Even Robert Downey Jr. couldn't hold it in. He'd filmed the scene himself—but every time he saw it, it hit like the first.

Sitting beside him, Leonardo turned to say something, but when he glanced over, he saw Robert's face soaked with tears.

He reached up to wipe his own cheek—and realized he was crying too.

Damn it. Robert acting is incredible. That scene was perfect, he thought, both in admiration and—just a little—in envy.

I don't think I could ever pull off a performance like that.

In a corner of the Grand Theater, the Ericson family of four sat watching.

Lilith, the eldest daughter, sobbed quietly, mumbling, "Damn it… this isn't the kind of sci-fi I asked for…"

Then she thought of her younger brother. He's definitely going to hate this movie, she thought. He loves stuff like Iron Man…

She turned to check.

Her little brother, Christian, sat staring at the screen, fists clenched, eyes red and glistening with tears.

Up front, James Cameron stared in stunned silence.

He didn't cry—but his heart felt tight.

After watching District 9, he suddenly realized—his own sci-fi epic Avatar felt… embarrassingly shallow.

…

Onscreen, Carl continued to suffer—his body mutilated, his spirit crushed.

But even worse was what he witnessed: the full, unfiltered ugliness of humanity.

Because of Carl's transformation, the audience, for the first time, truly saw through alien eyes.

They began to despise the "humans" in the film.

And so, when Carl finally decided to help Christopher Johnson storm MNU to retrieve the lost fluid, the audience felt a glimmer of hope.

Carl and Christopher rallied a handful of intelligent aliens to join their cause.

Together, they stormed MNU's heavily guarded facility—guns blazing.

In theaters across the world, cheers erupted.

It was perhaps the first time in cinematic history that an audience cheered for aliens killing humans—and not the other way around.

In the end, they succeeded in reclaiming the vital fuel—but only Carl and Christopher survived.

One man, one prawn—racing through the chaos, back toward District 9, and the mothership waiting above.