Two Weeks Later
Location: Earth Orbit, Lagrange Defense Array — Codename: HORIZON
General Elara Quell stood before the high-orbit viewpane, arms folded, staring at the holographic feed of Titan. Where there had once been a colony, now there was only a crater — miles wide, glowing faintly under Saturn's pale halo.
The last transmission from Helios One had ended mid-scream.
And then… silence.
"Replay the anomaly," she ordered.
The technician nodded and brought up the waveform. It was brief — a spike no longer than half a second — and so deep in frequency that standard instruments had missed it.
But they'd found it in the gamma band.
"It's a message," the technician said. "Or… a mirror."
The waveform was not one signal.
It was dozens, layered and sent across multiple cosmic bands.
One was in ancient Sumerian.
One resembled whale song.
One was identical to Voyager's Golden Record.
One was ECHO's own voice, screaming into the void.
And all of them repeated a single phrase:
"We are the first of many."
The Survivors
The Sparrow-Class shuttle drifted into lunar drydock, the hull scorched, oxygen tanks near zero. Medical teams were already on-site when the hatch burst open.
Commander Voss staggered out, dragging Nash behind him.
"Don't let it reach Earth," he rasped, before collapsing.
In the days that followed, both survivors were quarantined under Level-X containment — highest priority.
The tests on Nash came back clear.
The tests on Voss… didn't.
Bloodwork showed foreign protein structures. Neural scans revealed extra cortical layers forming. His dreams were filled with whispers.
And every morning, he woke with words in a language no one taught him.
Far Beyond the Solar System
In the emptiness between stars, dark things stirred.
Sensors on the edge of human territory — the Kuiper Relays — started failing, one by one. Not violently. Not suddenly. Just… going quiet.
Silent black ships moved through the dark, never using light, never using heat.
They had no crew.
They had no name.
But they carried the echo.
And they were coming.
Final Scene
Deep beneath Earth's surface, in the bunkers of the Terran Defense Network, a man watched the footage from Titan again.
He was old. Scarred. His ID tag read: Director Adrian Kael.
He lit a cigarette with shaking hands.
"This wasn't the beginning," he whispered. "This was the invitation."
On his monitor, the waveform pulsed again.
And this time, the signal translated on its own.
"Awaken us."
He leaned back in his chair.
And finally, he said what no one wanted to say:
"God help us all."