The ship came on a Tuesday.


    Not that Tuesdays were particularly special in the grand scheme of things, but Elara Johnson had always hated Tuesdays. Tuesday was when her favorite coffee shop closed early. Tuesday was when her boss scheduled the most tedious meetings. Tuesday was when Chad had his "boys night" at the gym, leaving her alone with takeout and reality TV.


    And now, Tuesday was the day the sky split open and the Kh''ryx came through.


    They descended like a biblical plague—chitinous exoskeletons gleaming under Earth''s sun, mandibles clicking with hungry anticipation. The news called them "aliens." The internet called them "space bugs." The government called them "extraterrestrial biological entities."


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    Chad, with his protein-shake wisdom, called them "totally ripped, babe. Like, six limbs? That''s, like, triple the gains."


    No one knew they were hungry. Not at first.


    No one knew they were scouts for something far worse.


    And absolutely no one knew that inside Elara Johnson—barista by day, community college student by night, unremarkable human by all accounts—lay dormant genetic markers that would soon make her the most important person on the planet.


    The invasion began on a Tuesday.


    Elara''s metamorphosis began on a Wednesday.


    And by Thursday, she was no longer entirely human.