United We Fight Even If The World Falls

19XX, Roswell

"Hold your fire!" the general commanded.

His men acceded, but were still wary of the foreign entity they're all witnessing. Silent gulps and reciprocative nods were shared among themselves, confirming that this was no individual hallucination. Their rifles were pointed towards this entity, their grips trembling in the face of this unknown creature. They were called in by the local sheriff who sounded uncharacteristically hectic. Through his sporadic breaths, gasps and pants, they made out the word, "Alien." An army was then mobilized to find out the credibility of the report, as it came not from conspiracy crackers, but from a local law enforcer whose job description included shutting down conspiracies so as not to cause mass hysteria.

The creature itself stood still, its lack of facial features made it difficult to determine its expressions. It looked like an opaque jellyfish, but the royal golden-white garments adorning it made it look cartoonish. Its tentacles were squirming around while the army surrounding it was on a standstill. The part that looked like its head swiveled slowly, observing its surroundings. It felt its way around with its tentacles, slowly squirming its way towards one side of the army circling it. That side promptly backed off while the opposite side steadily made their way towards this curious being.

The general, being in the front line, remained adamant. He looked down at the creature, steadily making its way towards him. This silent standstill continued for a few moments, before there was a staticky noise, like a radio having its frequency adjusted.

"H...old.. you..r.. fiii...re," it came from the creature, and the sudden high-pitched noise breaking the silence refocused the army, tensing up their shoulders in reflex.

"You speak English?" the general asked, unperplexed in demeanor.

"S..pea..k.. Eng..lish..." the creature repeated slowly, approaching the general.

"Eng...lish..." two tentacles lunged on the general's face, "..your... fire..." a red beam protruded from its mouth, probing the general's stoic face.

BANG!

The smell of gunpowder permeated through the empty lot, it came from a nervous soldier shaking with disbelief as to what he's done. He did it in response to the creature's sudden move, and all signs of life from the creature gradually left its strange body, the red beam dissipating with the wind. "Fi...re.."

33XX, World President's Office

The newly elected president attentively lifted the VR headgear, restoring his vision back into the present day. Cyan and turquoise pixels dispersed, switching the simulation off. The empty lot that had a bewildered army turned into a moonlit office, with only two people in it.

"So... you're telling me this all happened once upon a time, yet the public has yet to receive any information on there being an extraterrestrial lifeform? This actually happened? It's not edited or anything?"

"That is correct, sir," the Secretary of State replied matter-of-factly, "the recording has been modified so as to have you experience the scene in virtual reality, to suit the technological advancements of this day and age; otherwise, the scene itself is purely a recording of an event that actually happened. I myself extracted this from the Global Archives."

The president furrowed his brows, deep in thought. "So, this might be the reason for that mysterious message we received?"

"Most likely, yes, this is the origin."

"Ms. Rivetta," the president sighed, "perhaps you've had one too many conspiracy theories."

"Sir, I-"

"Do get some rest tonight, you will need it."

The president left the office, shutting the door to a dejected secretary.

She returned to her humble abode, feeling rather offended her warnings fell on deaf ears. She let her scarlet hair fall on her shoulders, and vented out her frustration, "This is so annoying! Why won't that old man believe me?"

"Put yourself in his shoes, Rhyme Rivetta, why would he believe you?"

The reflection in her mirror, projected by a mini-drone, commented, not to Rhyme's surprise.

"But I did everything you recommended me to do to convince someone, Discord! You told me I needed evidence from a reliable source, and I turned the Global Archives upside down while you were asleep just to find the evidence I need to support my theory, and I finally did! What more does he need to believe me?"

"Less common sense?" Discord replied sardonically, much to Rhyme's chagrin.

"You should help me, then, if you know so much about convincing people!"

"I want nothing to do with your alien theories, you conspiracy crackhead."

"You're basically me!" Rhyme blurted out in disbelief, and pouted childishly, "hmph!" she turned her back on the mirror, but her reflection kept looking towards her.

"You're way past your prime to be sulking that way; a 27-year old lady shouldn't be acting like a cute girl, it's embarrassing for me to watch you do that to my body."

"It's my body, too! Hmph!"

"This is why nobody takes you seriously."

Rhyme ignored Discord, triggering the drone's automatic shutdown of the projection as it no longer sensed any presence in its proximity.

She took a quick shower to cool her head off, then laid prone on her mattress, kept afloat by a suspension device. She replayed the recording she procured from the archives, as well as the recording they received a few days ago, trying to find more clues to present to the president.

She observed the blurry message, static surrounded it, making it barely understandable. The message intercepted the government's frequency waves, and was recorded just in case. However, after watching the message in its entirety, almost the entire cabinet brushed it off as a prank from someone who's got too much time on their hands. The Minister of Security did issue an order to track down the interceptor and let the interceptor off with a light warning, as it's a harmless threat, or so they thought.

The Secretary of State thought the same, but a part of her didn't. That part of her kept her focus on the message. A shadow resembling the alien in the first one could barely be made out from all the static, but Rhyme believed the resemblance to be uncanny.

The message started as if the messenger was asking someone behind the camera. "Aa.. aa.. Set in their language?.... Sure? What's it called... English?" the static worsened around the shadow, but became clearer for the voice behind it.

"Humans... we were disappointed and absolutely distraught on your violent decision despite the Queen's attempts to communicate with your rural species. At Her Royalty's behest, we were told to stand back as she surveyed the area, sending us live information about this planet. We would've gifted you with technology far beyond your intellect in exchange for information of your disgusting species. We would have, but you had to be barbaric. We tried to be civilized, approached you peacefully. We didn't come with an army so that you wouldn't feel threatened. We wanted you to trust that we wouldn't bring harm on you, hence the Princess ventured alone, much to our army's dismay. She trusted you would do the same once you understood what she came for. We came in peace. However, unprovoked, you shot her dead with your primitive weapons. Your species, whether or not you meant it, has declared war on us... We assure you we haven't been idling in mourning; we have every attention to avenge her and eradicate your species. Only then, will we be able to collect information from the planet, as planned. Prepare yourselves... This is our official ultimatum to your entire race, no one will be spared."

The shadow that resembled a jellyfish convulsed, a painful groan pierced the static. The shadow no longer resembled anything on Earth, but a voice, deeper than the one before, declared, "We are prepared for war... we shall fight fire with fire, violence with violence. You have a saying, yes? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, but the life of our Princess... is for the life of your entire race."

The message didn't fail to send shivers down Rhyme's spine every time she rewatched it. She sat back, thinking about what she could do on her own to stop this from happening. "That's wrong", she thought, "if they went out their way to send an ultimatum to us, then there is no stopping them..."

Is there a way to fight back, then? Or a way to buy us some time? Or to minimize the damage? Or...

She spent the night thinking up various possibilities and scenarios for the future of her race while staring at the ceiling, before eventually falling asleep.

She awoke to the ringtone of the home drone, afloat just by her face, waiting for her to accept the call or otherwise reject it. Still lethargic from her brief nap, she looked at the contact projected by the drone. It read, "Nutty Professor."

"Accept call," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes while the drone processed her voice, she let out a great yawn, part of which got through to the other end of the call.

"I see... that explains your delay in picking up my call," a gruff voice resounded through her room, "immodest and unladylike as usual, Rivetta."

"Only when I don't have a say in it," Discord assured Rhyme in her head, careful not to accidentally voice it out.

"Ah, shut it!" Rhyme snapped, at both the nutty professor and Discord, though the former had no idea of the latter existing, in this conversation, or at all.

"What'cha want, Doc? You can't have contacted me at this time for nothing," she thought momentarily before coming up with a quip, "won't your wifey get jelly?"

The offense taken at the mention of his wife could be heard despite the lack of response from the professor, "Watch that blabbing mouth of yours, Rivetta, leave my wife out of it."

"State your reasons for awakening me at this time, then, or else I'm going back to sleep," Discord took over without waiting for Rhyme's approval, she desperately needed sleep for her eyes, weary after Rhyme used them to watch the messages on repeat.

The nutty professor grumbled, "You can sometimes be very assertive, if only you don't play the buffoon, I wouldn't have minded inviting you over for tea with the family," he sighed in annoyance, "to put it frankly, Miss Part-of-the-government, I would like to propose a pet project of mine to be funded by the government."

"Can't you have done that through the front desk of the World President's Hall? Like a normal person? It's open for public, you know? There's absolutely no need for you to bug me personally-"

"There's no need, sure, but this is the optimal route if I hope to have any research proposal accepted before my daughter goes to college, and she's only turning 4 this year."

Rhyme gave in, and admitted that the people's complaints and suggestions are plentiful, each and every one of them was answered in due time, but this meant that later suggestions would be put on hold. They weren't the prioritized procedures for the government, after all, but it's necessary to appease the public in some way.

"What's the project? I'll pitch it in a meeting if it's interesting."

"Come over to the Global Research Center tomorrow morning, tell the receptionist to direct you to my office, we'll talk more then. It's not like you have anything productive to do on a Sunday anyway."

With that, he hung up, and the drone switched the projection off, gliding away to its original post. Rhyme grinded her teeth, "Ahhhh! You foolish genius! My Sunday is gone because of youuuuu!" she whined while rolling around her floating bed, squeezing the air out of her pillow. Despite the attitude of that nutty professor, all of his proposed projects hadn't failed in piquing Rhyme's, and even Discord's, interest. It's a shame that he only got his drone technology as well as a dangerous weapon for military use patented, as the others proved to be "functionally ineffective and insufficient to be funded." The government wouldn't just accept any and all research proposals from the Global Research Center.

"It's an hour away via air waves... I'll take the wave scooter tomorrow, but for now," Rhyme glanced at the digital clock on full display, "I sleep."