Alien beings

“The Silent Sky”

Part I: The Arrival

The sky cracked open without sound.

No thunder. No light. No warning.

At exactly 03:17 a.m., on a quiet stretch of land near Lake Artemia, the stars flickered once… and rearranged themselves.

Mira Halden was the first to notice — an insomniac astronomer who spent more nights with her telescope than her husband. What she saw didn’t make sense. One moment, the familiar constellations of Cassiopeia and Orion danced overhead; the next, they melted into unfamiliar shapes, as though someone had stirred the sky with a spoon.

She blinked. Adjusted the lens. Checked the date, the coordinates, everything. The stars refused to obey.

Then came the hum.

Not a sound, exactly — more like a vibration deep in the spine, a pressure in the chest. It passed through metal, glass, water. Birds took to the air in desperate flocks. Dogs whined behind locked doors.

And something… descended.

The Object

By morning, there was no denying it.

Hovering fifty feet above the lake’s still surface was an object — massive, oval-shaped, blacker than night. It wasn’t floating, spinning, or emitting anything. It simply was — like a thought that had taken physical form.

The military arrived by noon. Scientists, satellites, drones. Nothing could touch it. Radar blinked and died. Signals were scrambled. Planes lost altitude when they got too close. Attempts to scan its surface failed — it absorbed every wavelength.

But it never moved.

And it never responded.

The Whisper

Then, on the fourth night, the dreams began.

All over the world, people started to have the same dream. A voice — not male or female, not young or old — spoke a single sentence:

“We are the architects. You have questions. You may ask three.”

No one knew what it meant. Was it a prank? A glitch? A psychological phenomenon?

Then someone in a hospital in Nairobi drew a symbol on the wall that hadn’t been seen on Earth before — a spiraling glyph made of interlocking geometries. Minutes later, someone in Canada carved the same symbol into a frozen lake. A child in Osaka whispered it in her sleep.

The same phrase echoed in every tongue, in every time zone.

“Three questions. No more.”

The Debate

Panic spread, as it always does. News anchors speculated. Religious leaders cried prophecy. Philosophers begged for patience. Every government argued over the same thing:

What do we ask?

Some wanted to know about faster-than-light travel. Others demanded the cure to disease, or a way to reverse climate collapse. A few pleaded to ask: “Why are we here?”

Mira Halden, now one of the leading experts on the phenomenon, was quietly brought into a global committee. She didn’t speak much. But one evening, when asked what she would ask, she said:

“Not what. Not how. First, we should ask who.”

And so, on the 23rd day after the object arrived, a global signal was beamed directly toward it.

The First Question

“Who are you?”

The object responded.

But not in sound. Not in words. The lake rippled outward as a sphere of shimmering light descended from beneath the craft.

Inside the light stood a being.

It was tall, featureless, radiant. Not humanoid, not monstrous — like someone had dreamed it, but only half-finished. The being moved like it was made of flowing water and electric breath.

Then, a voice filled the air — not through ears, but within every living mind.

“We are not one. We are not many. We are the Echoes of Before.”
“We built the seed-path. We lit the stars.”
“You are our unknowing children.”

Then the being vanished, and the light withdrew into the sky.

The World Reacts

Some cried. Some prayed. Others laughed — unable to process the answer.

But the message was clear: humanity was not alone. Worse, humanity was not first.

Theologians rewrote sermons. Scientists broke down weeping. Children began painting strange images in classrooms without knowing why. The glyph appeared again — this time on the surface of the Moon, carved by something not human hands.

And the world faced the second question.

Would you like me to continue with Part II: The Second Question?