chapter 3

The evening in Redwood began like any other, with the city humming along in its usual rhythm. The streets were alive with the ebb and flow of life, people bustling to and fro, some heading home after a long day's work, others just beginning their night shifts. The air was filled with the familiar sounds of chatter, the occasional bark of a dog, and the steady hum of traffic. One lane of the main road was clogged with cars, a typical evening jam, while the other flowed freely, a rare sight in the heart of the city.

Among the vehicles stuck in the gridlock was a bus, its windows fogged slightly from the breath of its passengers. Inside, the atmosphere was a mix of quiet exhaustion and casual conversation. Most of the passengers were civilians, lost in their own worlds, some scrolling through their phones, others staring out the windows, lost in thought. Near the back of the bus sat Scott Keli, an 18-year-old high school student. He was dressed in his school uniform: navy blue trousers, a crisp white shirt, a black tie, and a grey blazer. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his expression was distant, as though he were carrying a weight he couldn't quite shake.

Scott sat alone by the window, his backpack resting on the seat beside him. His fingers tapped absently against the sole of his shoe, a nervous habit he'd had for years. Across from him sat two other students from his school, a boy and a girl, both wearing the same uniform. They were engaged in a lively debate, their voices cutting through the quiet hum of the bus.

"Gol has to be the best of the Great Defenders," the boy said confidently, leaning back in his seat. His name was Jake, and he had a knack for turning even the most mundane topics into heated discussions.

"No way! Trackstar is so much better," the girl, Mia, shot back, her eyes sparkling with competitive energy. She had a way of speaking that made even the simplest statements sound like challenges.

"Trackstar? She's just fast. So what?" Jake retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly, she's fast. Speed is the best superpower. Gol is just a walking boulder," Mia said, smirking.

"And that's what makes him amazing. He's strong and intimidating," Jake countered, crossing his arms.

"Isn't Indestructible stronger than him?" Mia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We don't know that," Jake said, turning to Scott. "Aye, Scott, tell her Gol is better than Trackstar."

Scott, who had been lost in his phone, looked up briefly. His expression was distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Uhh... I can't say. I think both of them are amazing. It comes down to how they use their abilities. The most creative one wins, but I wouldn't necessarily say one is better than the other," he said softly, his voice lacking the usual enthusiasm he had for such debates.

"Urgh, boring!" Jake groaned, turning back to Mia. "Anyway, Gol took down a cyborg monkey the other day. It was so cool! I have a video of it, check it out." He pulled out his phone, and the two of them leaned in to watch the clip, their argument momentarily forgotten.

Scott's smile faded as he turned back to his phone. The screen displayed a single name: Nel. He had been trying to call her for what felt like hours, but she wasn't picking up. His thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating, before he pressed it again. The phone rang once, twice, and then the familiar automated voice cut in.

"Sorry, the mobile subscriber cannot be reached. Please leave a voicemail or wait until they are ready."

Scott sighed, his shoulders slumping. He tapped the screen to record a message, then bowed his head slightly, shielding his face with his hand as though trying to create a small, private space in the crowded bus.

"Hey, Nel... uhm, I know you probably don't wanna talk to me right now, but if you hear this, I'm sorry. I really wanna talk to you so we can fix this. And... I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He tapped the screen to send the voicemail, then leaned back in his seat, his chest rising and falling with a deep, shaky breath.

As he sat up, he noticed a woman standing nearby, her eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. She was older, with sharp features and a piercing gaze that seemed to see right through him. Before he could say anything, she sat down abruptly in the seat across from him, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Can I help..." Scott started, but the woman cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"The hell," Scott muttered under his breath, turning back to the window. He stared out at the cityscape, the lights of Redwood flickering in the distance. But as his eyes scanned the horizon, something caught his attention, a small, faint spot in the sky. At first, it was barely noticeable, just a tiny speck against the darkening canvas of the evening. But it was growing, rapidly.

The spot began to take shape, morphing into a disc-like form. It was moving fast, faster than anything Scott had ever seen. His breath caught in his throat as he realized it was headed straight for the city. On the streets below, people began to notice it too. A man screamed, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"Meteor!" he shouted, pushing past others in a frantic attempt to escape.

But it wasn't a meteor. The object was too controlled, too deliberate in its movements. It was the UFO that had risen from the ocean earlier that day, its sleek, futuristic design unlike anything humanity had ever created. It made no sound, no roar of engines or thrusters. It simply moved, defying gravity and physics as though they were mere suggestions.

The UFO reached the edge of the city, its massive form casting a shadow over the buildings. For a moment, it seemed as though it would crash, obliterating everything in its path. But then, impossibly, it made a sharp, unnatural turn, veering upward into the sky. Its speed began to decrease, though those watching from below barely noticed. They were too caught up in the sheer awe of the moment, their relief at its sudden change in direction mingling with a growing sense of unease.

The UFO ascended higher and higher, climbing far above the tallest skyscrapers in Redwood. It stopped abruptly, hovering in place as though frozen in time. There was no wobble, no sign of instability. It simply hung there, a silent, ominous presence in the sky.

Scott stared up at it, his heart pounding in his chest. Around him, the bus had fallen silent, the other passengers equally transfixed. Some people on the streets began to pray, their hands clasped together as they whispered fervent words. Others pulled out their phones, capturing the surreal scene on video. It was a moment that defied explanation, a glimpse of technology far beyond human understanding.

The UFO began to glow, its glass surfaces and crevices lighting up with an otherworldly brilliance. The light flickered, growing brighter and more intense with each passing second. The object started to vibrate, the motion growing more violent until it seemed as though it might shatter the very air around it. Then it stopped.

The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your chest tighten. Scott had seen enough. The UFO hovering ominously in the sky wasn't just a spectacle, it was a threat. He turned to the two students from his school, his voice low but urgent. "We should walk. It's not a good idea to stay here with that thing in the sky. Who knows what it'll do."

The others hesitated, their eyes flickering between Scott and the strange, silent object above. But Scott didn't wait for their agreement. He could feel it in his gut, something was horribly wrong. The way the UFO hung there, defying gravity, defying logic, sent a chill down his spine.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his hand, emitting a strange, distorted sound. He glanced down, frowning as the screen flickered erratically, glitching as though it had been hit by some kind of virus. Around him, murmurs began to rise. Others were experiencing the same thing, phones flashing, screens distorting, the eerie interference spreading like a digital plague.

"Shit, something's wrong with my phone," the boy next to the girl muttered, his voice tinged with worry. He held up his device, the screen flickering uncontrollably. The girl beside him bit her lip, her earlier bravado replaced by unease.

Scott didn't need to say it again. "Come on," he urged, already moving toward the bus door. The other passengers were starting to rise too, their fear palpable. The atmosphere had shifted from awe to dread, and no one wanted to stick around to find out what would happen next.

Scott quickened his pace, his heart pounding as he reached the exit. He was just about to step off the bus when it happened...a deafening boom .