Day 1: The Message

  Perspective: Elias Vandar

  Setting: Nexlify office, Seattle, WA – March 11, 2025 – 2:37 PM PST

  The Nexlify office smelled of burnt coffee and static, a cramped warren of cubicles wedged between Puget Sound’s drizzle and the hum of downtown. Whiteboards bearing the scars of late-night AI brainstorming sessions, coffee rings staining the break room table, and a foosball table sat abandoned in the corner, a relic of happier days. Elias Vandar slouched at his desk, his wiry frame drowning in a faded Seahawks hoodie, glasses fogged from the heat of his laptop as he wrestled with a neural net that wouldn’t converge. He barely noticed the world until it screamed.

  Every screen—laptops, phones, the ancient break room TV Dennis had scavenged from a thrift store flashed white. A voice, cold and synthetic, punched through the air:

  Elias jolted, his code window vanishing. He squinted at his laptop, diagnostics already running across the networks. No access logs, just data flooding past the firewalls. Growling quietly, trying not to bite his fingernails, he quickly scanned the network. Eyes locked onto the screen his anxiety grew as each test passed. This hit everything, phones, tablets, TVs, in perfect sync, streaming live, globally. Impossible, he thought.

  Placing the still plugged-in computer back in its cradle, he reached around the edge, whispering, “ID10T check.” Pulling the power cord while holding the power button down. Ten seconds passed, the laptop still humming. He exhaled hard, letting the switch go, eyes locked on the battery sitting useless on the shelf. Sinking into his seat, his co-workers’ voices blurred into a round-table roar around the TV, he let them fill the silence, his mind a live wire.

  Dennis Nguyen ripped an earbud out mid-podcast, his chair creaking under his stocky build. Alicia Wilson froze, her stylus hovering over a tablet sketch, her silhouette framed by the window’s gray light. Tara “TJ” Jackson stomped out of the server room, her short dark hair glinting under fluorescents. Marcus Reyes stood in front of the TV, frozen to inaction by the sudden announcement.

  “What the hell?” Dennis was on his feet, cargo pants swishing, his buzz cut casting a shadow over Elias’s screen.

  “Hack. Gotta be,” TJ growled, slamming the TV’s power button—nothing.

  “It’s on my phone too,” Alicia said, her voice soft but edged, swiping uselessly at the glowing screen.

  “Everyone, stay calm,” Marcus called, his polo stretching as he waved a hand, ever the office dad.

  Dennis’s Theory: Aliens

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  Dennis paced like a caged bear, his hunting knife already in hand, twirling it absently. “This is aliens, y’all, no question. Didn’t SETI find them in the 1900s?” Waving a hand at the TV, while the message began replaying, “Grandma would call it Gigye gwisin. Ghosts inside machines, evil spirits. They’re done abductin cows and probin hillbillies. They’re integratin us into their galactic club, and this ‘Void’ crap is their enemy, not ours.”

  “Thing is,” Dennis said pensively. “If we get to conjure stuff and throw fireballs, that could be a lot of fun. Hey Eli,” Dennis said, slapping Elias’s shoulder, a flash of teeth Elias knew from their late-night gaming sessions, “Wanna be my DPS guy? I’ll tank the mobs and you can burn em down”

  Jibes, giggles and off color comments faded to the background as Elias recalled reading about SETI and the “Wow!” Signal. August 15, 1977, 72 seconds of unexplained radio blips discovered by Big Ear at Ohio State University. The signal was never detected again, but conspiracies abound about alien contact, and government cover-ups. Elias let Dennis’s enthusiasm wash over him, a lifeline in the chaos.

  TJ’s Theory: Military Conspiracy

  TJ leaned against the break room wall, arms crossed, a chewed up pen tapping her thigh like a metronome. “Nah, Nguyen, you’re dreaming. This ain’t aliens, it’s us. Humans, screwing ourselves. Military’s been cooking this up for years. DARPA, NSA, some black-budget op gone live. I saw weird shit overseas, tech we didn’t question. This thing’s their excuse to scare us into compliance. They’ve got satellites hijacking every signal right now, and we’re the lab rats.” Her voice was gravel, honed by barked orders and sleepless nights. TJ’s eyes flicked to Elias, a rare softness drifting over her otherwise sharp features, “Keep your head down, kid”.

  Elias chewed his lip, desperate to crunch down on a fingernail. He met TJ when he first joined Nexlify and she instantly became his big sister. They would talk about the marines, conspiracy theories and military history for hours, wasting time at work and driving Mark crazy. TJ was always being paranoid; she caught that phishing scam last year I missed, he reminded himself. Her edge grounded him, jumping to aliens before considering humans seemed severe, even as he questioned her theory’s scale.

  Alicia’s Theory: Religious Awakening

  Alicia perched on the couch, legs folded in a half-lotus, her tablet abandoned as she traced invisible patterns in the air. “You’re both half-right, but it’s deeper. This feels spiritual. What if this is divine? Not aliens, not DARPA, but God reaching out? ‘Mana Core’ sounds holy, too. Like manna from heaven, a gift to fight back. I mean, think about it, every culture’s got a creation story, a battle against darkness. This could be that, but modernized.” Her voice danced, warm and lilting, pulling Elias in like always.

  Elias spoke up, softly at first, recalling his catholic education. “For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; And the former things will not be remembered or come to mind. Isaiah 65:17”

  Alicia’s green eyes alighted with joy as Elias sought to sort out everyone’s confusion. “She’s onto something. This mana core could very well be a divine substance that is now given to us. This feels very intentional and thinking of it spiritually feels extremely right.”

  Marcus’s Theory: Judgment

  Marcus sank into a chair, donut crumbs dusting his polo, his EMT kit thudding beside him. “If this ‘System’ is real, then yeah, we’re fucked.” Pointing an accusing finger at Dennis, “My Abuela would say ‘Dios lie a la chingada!’, God’s fed up. That’s hell creeping in.” He paused, calming his frayed nerves and reaching for an answer.

  “This is the end. It’s only a matter of time before everyone goes feral. I’ve seen what happens when people take it too far.”

  Standing up he opened his arms to the group, “So what are we gonna do?”

  Everyone fell silent as Marcus looked at each one, “This will be chaotic. Worse. We have to stay together and protect each other. Elias, you’re the brain; figure out the rules.” He tossed Elias a donut, “Eat, kid.”, his dad-vibe a steady anchor.

  Looking at each of us again, “We are gonna do fine. Just keep faith in each other and always have each other’s backs.” The room was silent for several seconds until Dennis began slow clapping very loudly. Elias chuckled as the others followed suit, Marcus red cheeks notwithstanding.