The conference call had devolved into a shouting match, each faction scrambling to push their own agenda in the wake of the catastrophe. The Martian representative, a man who had built his career on hardline military strategy, found himself in the rare position of advocating for unity.


    “We don’t have the luxury of infighting anymore,” he snapped, silencing the Earth delegate mid-sentence. “Every civilian in the system has seen the footage. We all saw them. The demons. The gate. And if you think this is something we can bury under classified reports, you’re delusional.”


    A murmur ran through the call. No one could deny it.


    If humanity had only faced the first type of demons, the leaders were confident they could develop effective countermeasures in time. But the arrival of the second, more advanced variant had shattered that optimism, forcing them to consider alternative strategies for survival. And then there was Null, He was the wildcard, the anomaly, the folk hero whose actions had captivated the entire Solar System.


    The leak of the stream had been devastating. What was meant to be a controlled test of Null’s capabilities had spiralled into something else entirely. His battles in the Youth Soldier Competition, his impossible feats, his terrifying efficiency, it had all been broadcasted, not just to the military but to everyone. The competition’s most-watched stream wasn’t some corporate-backed prodigy or a promising officer candidate.


    It was Null.


    Null, the child soldier who had taken on an army of demons and won.


    “We underestimated him,” the Martian representative admitted, scanning the grim faces on his screen. “I’ll say it plainly. We planned to push him to his limits to see what he was truly capable of. We thought we were in control.” His jaw tightened. “We were wrong. I think we should be glad he never used that power on us.”


    A tense silence followed.


    Finally, the Lunar delegate spoke, his voice measured but laced with barely contained frustration. “Even if we accept that Null is... beyond expectation, that doesn’t explain the demons. Where did they come from? And how, in all of human history, have we never encountered a functioning gate?”


    That was the question that had every intelligence agency tearing through their records. The footage had been analysed frame by frame, yet the answers remained maddeningly out of reach.


    The Earth representative wanted to know what the Martians had been hiding and if they had known the whole time.


    Tensions in the conference call were at a breaking point. The appearance of the demons was one thing. They were an existential crisis none of them were prepared for but now, there was something else.


    Two unidentified vessels had entered the system, barely registering on their long-range sensors before one of them made contact with an entirely different alien ship. No transmissions, no attempts at communication, and before any human vessel could intercept, both ships vanished without a trace.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    It was undeniable now.


    Humanity wasn’t just not alone. It was caught in the middle of something much larger—and the universe was not a friendly place.


    The Martian representative leaned forward, his voice sharp with urgency. “We can’t afford to keep playing these political games. We need to pool our resources. Open up every black project we’ve been hoarding, every classified initiative, every hidden development. We need a united front. The time for secrecy is over.”


    The other representatives didn’t look convinced.


    The Earth delegate shook his head. “Let’s not be dramatic. Mars was attacked. Not Earth. Not Luna. Not the Belt. Maybe—” his voice took on a pointed edge, “—this was a consequence of something you did. Maybe it was because you were hiding a gate”


    A ripple of agreement passed through the other factions.


    The Martian representative’s expression darkened. “You think we brought this on ourselves?”


    The Kuiper Belt representative folded his arms. “All we’re saying is, we’re not throwing open our archives and revealing every defence we have based on your crisis. Not until we understand what genuinely happened.”


    Fractures were forming. Even now, with an undeniable threat looming, they refused to trust each other. The Martian delegate exhaled slowly, pressing his hands against the table.


    “By the time you all decide to ‘understand what happened,’” he said coldly, “it’ll be too late.”


    The static-filled window flickered onto their screens, and the tension in the conference room shifted. The last time this had happened, the being known as Phosphoros had graced them with his cryptic presence. Every representative now watched the distorted feed with wary anticipation.


    Then, a voice—calm, steady, and utterly foreign.


    "I am The Watcher."


    The name sent a ripple of unease through the assembled leaders. They weren’t speaking to Phosphoros this time. This was someone new.


    "I am one of those tasked with monitoring humanity’s evolution. The Council forbids my kind from interfering, yet I have already defied them once. And now, I defy them again. Because you need to know"


    The static crackled, and for a brief moment, a hazy figure could be seen, a silhouette of a sphere and utterly alien.


    "This... was only the first wave."


    A heavy silence followed.


    The Martian representative was the first to recover. “Are you saying more of those things are coming?”


    "Now that the demons know where you are, they will return. The higher races cannot intervene. Humanity will have to stand alone."


    The words hung heavy over the delegation. The Jovian representative was the first to challenge it, demanding to know why. The Watcher remained unwavering, explaining that neither humans nor demons had yet reached the level required to be considered true citizens of the galaxy. As such, the non-interference policy remained absolute. But the delegation wasn’t convinced,not for a minute.


    Earth’s representative cut in, his voice sharp with suspicion. “Then tell us about the gates. How did they form? How did they bring the demons here if not for interference?”


    The Watcher paused. Then, he answered.


    "The activation of the gate was a loophole. A manipulation of galactic law."


    The image flickered as he continued.


    "The Elves accused your lost Arkship of attacking them. That accusation granted them the right of response or an ‘equal retaliation.’ But they could not attack you directly. Instead, they used a proxy. The demons do not have the ability to open the gates themselves… but that could change."


    The Lunar representative leaned forward, his face unreadable. “Are you saying they’re capable of learning how?”


    "Yes."


    A chill settled over the room.


    "Do not be complacent. The demons should not have been able to breach your system at all. And yet, here we are. Whatever allowed this… it is still in play."


    The Watcher let the words hang in the air before delivering his final warning.


    "Prepare yourselves. Because next time, my children might not be able to save you."