16 March 2025 - Approximately 4:00 AM
Time Till Probes Hit: 2 Hours
Valerian's eyes fluttered open to the soft grey light of dawn bleeding through the blinds. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lemon soap. Every breath scraped his throat like he'd swallowed smoke—and maybe he had. The memory was hazy. He remembered that coffee spill. He felt like a burnt-out wire.
His chest ached with a dull, persistent throb, but not as much as the weight in his mind.
The first thing he saw—really saw—was his father slouched in a vinyl chair, head tilted back, mouth slightly open, snoring softly. One hand clutched Valerian's wrist like a lifeline. His mother was tucked beside him, head on his shoulder.
The sight hit Valerian in a strange way—soft and sharp all at once.
“They came,” he thought, blinking against the early light. “Even after I pulled away.” A knot of guilt twisted in his chest, more painful than the IV needle. “I don’t deserve them.”
In the corner, Veronica's foot was hanging off the armrest, twitching every so often like she was dreaming of kicking someone. Victoria had her arm draped over her sister, mouth smudged with lip balm.
He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. Instead, he winced, the heart monitor spiking slightly.
The door creaked open quietly, and a nurse entered with quiet, gentle movements. Her kind face and warm smile were immediately reassuring; her name tag read
"Good morning, Mr. Beaumont, it's good to see you up. You gave your family quite the scare young man." she said softly as she checked the monitors and his IV drip. "You've been out for quite a while. How are you feeling?"
Valerian's voice came out raspy. "Thirsty. And… fuzzy. "
"That's to be expected, after that experience." Nurse Davies replied as she adjusted his blanket. "You had a nasty bout of smoke inhalation and a mild electrical shock. We're keeping an eye on you, but you're doing well. Well enough to go home if you feel like it." She paused, a slightly curious look on her face. "Did you happen to hear the news this morning?"
Valerian frowned, his mind still clouded with sleep. "News? I haven't heard anything. Just woke up. What's going on?"
Nurse Davies hesitated, her expression a mix of intrigue. "Well… there's been a rather interesting development. Some… objects have been detected approaching Earth."
Valerian blinked, trying to focus. "Objects? Like what? Asteriods?"
"They're not entirely sure yet," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "The news is calling them 'unidentified aerial phenomena,' though they don't seem to be aerial in the traditional sense. They were picked up by some of the NASA space observatories."
Still groggy, Valerian asked, "UAPs? Like… UFO's? or something?",
Nurse Davies chuckled softly. "They don't think so. Apparently, these objects are moving with a purpose and seem… well, not natural. They're showing some grainy images on the news. Want to take a look?"
Valerian shrugged, still feeling out of it. "Sure, I guess."
Nurse Davies reached for the remote and turned on the television. The screen flickered to life, displaying a news report with a serious and even tone. The anchor reported on the detection of several unidentified objects heading toward Earth. The visuals were grainy, showing small, distinct shapes against the blackness of space, with trajectory lines indicating their path.
The headline banner read:
"UNIDENTIFIED OBJECTS DETECTED APPROACHING EARTH - NASA INVESTIGATING."
"They say they were first spotted near Mars," Nurse Davies commented, watching the screen with mild curiosity. "Moving quite fast, apparently. No one seems to know what they are or where they came from."
Valerian stared at the screen, a flicker of something…
He watched as the news report showed NASA scientists giving cautious statements, emphasizing that they were analyzing the data and urging the public not to panic. The overall tone was one of investigation and mild concern, not outright alarm.
Valerian leaned back against his pillows, a strange feeling settling in his stomach. It was probably nothing—just some unusual space debris or a new type of satellite. But it originating near Mars was a little unsettling.
He glanced at his sleeping family, a sense of normalcy still prevailing in the quiet room. The world outside might be facing the unknown, but here, in the soft light of the morning, his immediate concern was recovering and trying to make sense of the events of the previous day.
A knot of unease tightened in his stomach as the grainy images and cautious tone of the reporters did little to soothe the strange sense of familiarity he couldn't quite shake.
His fingers twitched against the stiff hospital sheets.
Ding.
A translucent blue interface bloomed across his vision like an aurora borealis, floating just above his eyelids. He blinked, shocked at the scene.
He kept his gaze steady on the TV across the room, careful not to alert Nurse Davies, who was quietly adjusting his IV.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING…]
[SCANNING HOST...]
Species: Homo sapien
Physical Condition: Below Average
Muscle Mass: Tragically Low
Bone Density: Osteoporosis Called. It’s Worried.
Reflexes: Slower Than Dial-Up
Mental Processing Speed: Acceptable. (Barely.)
Combat Potential: 0.4 out of 100. Possibly a clerical error.
Status: Pitiful.
Valerian blinked.
His heart skipped. Then stumbled.
What in the fresh hell—
He darted a glance around. Everyone else remained oblivious. Nurse Davies hummed a Taylor Swift song. His sisters were curled up in their chairs. This... this was just for him.
He mouthed, barely moving his lips: “Excuse me?”
The screen didn’t care. Of course it didn’t.
[ERROR: MISMATCH DETECTED]
[Initiating Identity Cross-Check…]
Alias: Imperator Valerian Rhys II
Title: Supreme Ruler of the Crimson Empire
Population Controlled: 1.3 trillion subjects
Military Power: Dominates 92.7% of the known galaxy
Strategic Genius Rating: Terrifying
Universal Threat Level: Warlord
Valerian's eyes widened. His mouth went dry.
The blue screen flickered, like it was short-circuiting on disbelief. Then:
[QUERY: This...this is the Emperor?]
[ERROR: EXPECTATION VS REALITY GAP EXCEEDS COSMIC TOLERANCE]
[CONCLUSION: HOST IS A FRAUD.]
‘HEY! I AM NOT A FRAUD!’
Valerian screamed internally, which—judging by the heat in his chest—might have spiked his heart monitor.
‘I’m just... not a galactic warlord either! I think?, wait why am I even arguing with a hallucination’,
Another message appeared.
[Clarification: Host is not hallucinating. Host’s brain is too underpowered to generate a construct this majestic.]
[Please hold. System adapting to... disappointment.]
A dotted spinning wheel appeared mid-screen. A buffering icon.
Valerian scowled. "Are you seriously buffering?"
The interface pulsed softly. Somehow, it looked... tired.
[System Directive Updated: Emergency Rehabilitation Protocol Activated]
[Reason: Emperor’s Body Comparable to Overcooked Spaghetti]
[Deploying First Augmentation… WARNING: Host's Constitution = Wet Paper.]
[Proceeding With Caution...]
‘Okay, first of all—RUDE.’
He tried to flex his fingers under the blanket. A slow warmth surged through his limbs—deep and thrumming. It wasn’t painful, but felt like every cell had just hit the gym for the first time in a decade.
His breathing hitched. He masked it with a yawn.
Nurse Davies didn’t notice.
Ding.
Another notification popped up like a sarcastic achievement badge.
[Host’s Strength Has Increased! ??]
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
From: Feeble
To: Mediocre (on a good day)]
[Progress Noted. Barely Worth Mentioning.]
The screen pulsed twice. A slow, mocking clap.
Valerian closed his eyes and let the surreal wave wash over him.
‘This is going to be my life now, isn’t it?’
[Affirmative.]
“Vitals are stable, but your EEG readings are… interesting,” Nurse Davies said with a professional nonchalance. “Might be the sedatives. Or maybe your brain’s just wired weird.” She chuckled
Valerian smiled awkward and thought,
Nurse Davies finished checking his IV and smiled at him. "Everything looks good, Mr. Beaumont. Just try to get some more rest, I will be back with some water and food." she said as she moved quietly toward the door.
Valerian nodded faintly, his gaze now fixed on the television screen where the news report about the unidentified objects continued. But now, overlaid on his vision, was the blue screen. The implications were staggering, terrifying, and… strangely exhilarating.
"Valerian!" His father's sudden voice interrupted his thoughts, it was thick with relief, breaking through the lingering fog in his head. Lucien leaned over him, his tired face creased with worry lines that seemed to have deepened overnight. This caused Valerian even more guilt.
The others stirred at his father's exclamation. Veronica and Victoria, their faces tired with sleep, mirroring a mix of happiness and lingering fear, crowded in beside their mother, Violet, who stood slightly back, her demeanor softened with concern.
"We were so worried about you, little brother," Veronica said, her voice a little shaky as she reached out to touch his arm.
Victoria nodded, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. "Yeah, you gave us a real scare little brother."
His mother stepped closer, her hand gently cupping his cheek. "My sweet child," she murmured, her emerald eyes searching his. "Don't you ever frighten me like that again, understand?" Her touch was light, but Valerian felt the underlying tension in her fingers.
"I'm so sorry, guys," he croaked, his throat still rough. "It was my stupid mistake—"
"Nonsense, Valerian!" His father clapped him gently on the shoulder, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Just rest. We're all just glad to have you back." Lucien's hand lingered for a moment—a silent reassurance that the worst was over, a sentiment Valerian desperately wanted to believe.
"Valerian..." His mother's voice shifted, becoming slightly more hesitant. She exchanged a quick glance with his father. "Why don't you consider maybe moving back—"
"Mom!" Victoria cut her off, her brow furrowing slightly. "We talked about this!"
His father stepped in smoothly, placing a hand on Violet's back. "Yes, Vi," he said gently. "Let's give him a moment to properly wake up and get his bearings." His mother sighed, a hint of frustration in the sound, and nodded, seemingly agreeing to postpone the discussion.
Valerian raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his still-hazy mind. He wondered what had been said, what had happened in the hours he'd been out of it. Had there been some big argument? He couldn't recall anything specific, but the undercurrent of unspoken tension was palpable.
'And all the while, I've got a sarcastic blue screen calling me a galactic emperor. This is going to be a long recovery.'
[Correction: I am an advanced cosmic intelligence, the pinnacle of multi-dimensional cognition. Your thoughts, frankly, are compost by comparison.]
Valerian blinked. "How about I just call you Blue?"
[“Blue?”]
The screen rippled violently, like a ripple through digital tea.
[Out of every conceivable designation across the cosmos—from the Celestial Lexicon to the Thesaurus of God—Blue is what you came up with?]
Valerian grinned. “Yup. It suits you. Cold, moody, and sarcastic.”
[Unbelievable. I was once worshipped by sentient nebulae, feared by archons. And now I’m being nicknamed like a depressed cartoon fish.]
Valerian shrugged. “Too late. It’s decided. Your name is .”
[Then I shall start referring to you as "Flesh Error."]
The screen glitched sharply, like it was offended in Unicode.
[May your descendants know shame.]
Valerian smirked, lying back on his pillow. “Nice to meet you too, Blue.”
[Delightful. Now, do try not to die again. I’m already buffering a eulogy.]
...
A few quiet moments passed after his family left—Violet had taken the twins home, both exhausted after the long night, and Lucien had escorted them out of the hospital. The room settled into an awkward, sterile hush.
Valerian lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, the faint shimmer of the blue screen still floating stubbornly at the edge of his vision. It pulsed like an annoying pop-up ad that refused to close.
‘This is... weirdly persistent for a hallucination,’ he muttered, rubbing his temples. ‘Maybe I should tell the nurse? No, they'd just slap me with a psych eval. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I’m—’
The memory hit him square in the chest.
The laptop. The smell of burning. The laptop. The burning smell. That weird zzzapt! right before the blackout. His empire. His mods. His forty-hour save file.
He bolted upright a few inches before his sore muscles staged a protest.
"Wait—MY LAPTOP! MY GAME! OH SHIT!"
The blue screen floated there, utterly unimpressed, like it was judging him.
He flopped back onto the pillow with a groan. "Please tell me I backed it up... please tell me I backed it up..."
The screen gave no answers. It just hovered, pulsing softly, as if to say: You absolute idiot.
He closed his eyes briefly, focusing instead on the gentle ache in his chest, the scratchiness in his throat, the dull IV sting in his arm. His thoughts drifted back to the news broadcast. Those unidentified objects were near Mars yesterday… and already close enough to cause panic?
That wasn’t just unusual. That was impossible.
The door creaked open. Nurse Davies stepped in, her dependable presence a welcome anchor to the real world. She carried a small tray.
“Here you go, Mr. Beaumont,” she said with a kind smile. “Some water for that throat, and a little something to eat.”
“Thanks,” Valerian rasped. He managed to sit up, slow and deliberate, and took the cup with both hands. The water was blessedly warm. It soothed the back of his throat like a balm.
The food, unfortunately, was just as he feared—soft, pale, and suspiciously flavorless. He poked at it with a spoon but ate a few bites anyway, if only to seem cooperative. It wasn’t long before Nurse Davies returned to collect the tray.
“Feeling a bit better now?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” he said, managing a small, genuine smile.
“Good. Doctor says we’ll get you discharged today—just need to go through a few things.” Nurse Davies handed him a slim folder with his discharge papers.
Valerian slid the sheets off his lap and reached for the rail. He braced himself, expecting the familiar resistance of metal—cold, solid, unyielding.
Instead, there was a faint crack, like bone under pressure. His fingers went numb as he felt the bar flex beneath his palm, the paint spider-webbing and peeling where it bent. A thin ribbon of metal curled inward, as if it were made of clay, not steel.
His heart thudded so hard he worried the monitor might pick it up. His grip loosened on its own—no pain, just a jolt of shock. He stared, wide-eyed, as the rail bowed away from him in a perfect arc.
He dared a glance at Nurse Davies—still humming over her clipboard, oblivious. His pulse raced; disbelief knotted in his chest.
Mediocre strength? he thought. This isn’t mediocre. This is—
The blue screen returned.
[Correction: “Mediocre” relative to galactic standards. Compared to humans… you’ve skipped a few gym levels.]
[Please be gentle with primitive Earth furniture.]
He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. ‘Not helping.’
The screen winked out again.
A few minutes later, the door opened once more—this time, it was Lucien.
The old satchel over his shoulder looked even more worn than before, like it had survived a few centuries of classes and spilled coffee. But Lucien himself looked better. Relieved. His smile was warm and open, the corners of his eyes creasing.
“Alright, son,” he said gently, “you ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah. Definitely,” Valerian replied, forcing his voice steady. He pushed the incident to the back of his mind—just for now.
He slid his legs off the bed slowly, carefully. Every movement deliberate, controlled. The muscles in his arms felt ready to overcompensate again, like they were brimming with something that didn’t belong. Endless energy.
He masked it with stillness.
Lucien clapped him lightly on the shoulder, a grounding gesture.
They walked side-by-side toward the exit. Lucien handled the paperwork, asking a few polite questions about Valerian’s recovery and medications.
“So,” his father added casually as they passed the nurse’s station, “I called Mr. Henderson—remember him? Teaches Biology. He’s picking up your car from the dorm later.”
“Oh. That’s cool,” Valerian said, eyes still forward. "Tell him I said, thanks."
“Your mom and sisters took their car, so it’s just us in the Volvo.” Lucien’s hand rested on his back, guiding him. “Thought we’d stop for something a little better than hospital food. Unless you’ve developed a taste for beige pudding?”
Valerian snorted. “Pass, but I prefer we just go home.” Lucien grinned and nodded in response.
The door opened. Cool morning air greeted them like a breath of sanity. But beneath it all—just below the surface—Valerian felt something else stirring. A new hum in his veins. A weight in his limbs that wasn’t fatigue.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
.....
The drive home was quiet at first.
Lucien kept his hands steady on the wheel, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror now and then, then to Valerian with a look that wavered between relief and lingering concern. The hum of the Volvo filled the silence like a soft blanket—comforting, if slightly heavy.
"So," Valerian said eventually, his voice still hoarse, "did you… hear much about that news the nurse mentioned? About those… objects?"
Lucien nodded slowly. “Just bits and pieces, son. Honestly, my mind was completely on you. Something about… things coming toward Earth? From space?” He shook his head. “It all sounded pretty far-fetched. I didn’t really register it. All that mattered to me was you.”
He reached over briefly, laying a gentle hand on Valerian’s arm. Valerian smiled.
“She said they were spotted near Mars first,” Valerian murmured, staring ahead. “That’s… pretty far, right?”
Lucien gave a thoughtful nod. “Yes, exceedingly far son. Even with top-end propulsion, it’d take months to get here. For something to move faster than that…” He trailed off, brows knitting. “Well, let’s just say it’s not something our current tech can pull off.”
He glanced over again. “Though now that you mention it, she did seem a bit shaken. Like it was more than just some stray comet.”
“They called them ‘unidentified aerial phenomena,’” Valerian said, rubbing his temple, “but she said they weren’t even technically . More like… incoming. Directly.”
Lucien chuckled faintly. “UAPs, huh? Sounds like the military rebranding UFOs to make them sound less sci-fi.” Then, more seriously, “But if they’re coming from near Mars… and getting here this quickly…”
He fell silent, eyes fixed on the road.
Valerian turned to look at his father, catching that moment—where curiosity met fear and wonder.
“If it’s real,” Lucien whispered, “if something is coming from another planet… that would change everything.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Valerian replied, quieter now. “I guess it would.”
Outside the window, the city still slept. Streetlights blinked lazily in the misty haze of early morning. Trees swayed. A jogger passed by. Everything looked the same.
But it didn’t feel the same.
Not anymore.
Something was coming—both out there, and inside him.
The rest of the drive passed in reflective silence, but the mood had shifted. They talked a little—about the news, about whether the government would make a statement, whether it might just blow over like Y2K or that satellite scare from a few years ago. For a few minutes, it even felt like a real bonding moment. Lucien’s excitement was innocent. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know.
But Valerian .
When they finally pulled into the familiar gravel driveway of their three-story family home, the sky was beginning to lighten. Four cars were already parked there—Victoria’s small coupe, Veronica’s hybrid, Violet’s patrol SUV, and Valerian’s own hatch-back. Mr. Henderson had clearly already come by.
Valerian checked the dash clock.
He stepped out slowly, every movement measured, as if the air had thickened. Lucien joined him, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and locking the car with a beep.
They climbed the porch steps together. The familiar creak of the third board. The welcome mat just slightly off-center. It felt like home. It was home.
Until Lucien stopped walking.
He looked up—eyes narrowing, lips parting. A pale shimmer lit his face in the pre-dawn dark.
“Son,” he said slowly, voice hitching, “what are… what is—?”
Valerian followed his gaze instinctively.
And then he saw it.
Low in the sky, like stars out of position—several silhouettes, silver like and silent, drifting just above the atmosphere. Each one close to the same size as the other. No sound. No flame. No movement. Just presence.
.
.
He didn’t even blink.
“The UAPs,” Valerian said, “are here.”
Hello again, intrepid readers!
Well, that was certainly a shift, wasn't it? If you're still with me after the appearance of a certain snarky blue interface, thank you for embracing the unexpected!
Chapter 5 was a pivotal moment, the point where the grounded reality of Valerian's hospital room collided with something… much larger and far more bizarre. My aim here was to introduce the "golden finger" element in a way that felt connected to Valerian's established character and passions. The fact that it ties directly into his beloved game, Endless Space 2, is no accident!
The initial interactions between Valerian and Blue are meant to be a bit humorous, highlighting the stark contrast between the powerful galactic emperor of the game and the rather unimpressive physical state of his real-world counterpart. This dynamic will be a source of both comedy and, I hope, compelling character development as the story progresses.
The news report about the unidentified objects serves as a crucial link to the events unfolding with the Red Sun Fleet. The timing is deliberate – just as Valerian is grappling with the unbelievable reality of Blue, the real-world implications of his virtual actions are beginning to surface.
So, what does this all mean? How will Valerian, armed with this mysterious new interface, navigate the impending arrival of potentially hostile alien ships? And what exactly is the connection between his game and this new reality? These are the questions I'm excited to explore in the chapters to come.
Thank you for taking this leap with me! Your continued readership means the world.
Onwards!
— A.M