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NX-07 // CONTACT ● ONLINE NAV ARRAY SIGNAL LOCKED 03-771-A LOCAL STAR // SOL TARGET // SOL-III RANGE UNKNOWN UNKNOWN SIGNAL NOVA THE STRANDED SPACEGIRL SIGNAL ████████░░ 87% BIO-SIGN STABLE DESCENT ACTIVE ▼ EARTH FIRST CONTACT DATABASE SUBJECT // NOVA ● STABLE ORIGIN // UNKNOWN SYSTEM SPECIES // UNIDENTIFIED TRANSLATOR // 63.8% ONLINE THREAT // LOW... PROBABLY > LIFEFORM_SCAN ..... COMPLETE > LANGUAGE_MATRIX ... PARTIAL > MEMORY_CORE ....... INTACT > NAVIGATION ........ OFFLINE > DISTRESS_BEACON ... ACTIVE 01 // IMPACT EVENT You thought it was a shooting star. Then the sky flashed blue. Something tore through the clouds and disappeared beyond the road. When you reach the impact site, there is no meteor waiting for you. There is a damaged escape pod. And inside sits a girl staring back at you like you are the alien. DESCENT TELEMETRY VECTOR LOCKED ▼ ATMOSPHERIC ENTRY ALTITUDE ↓ STABLE ATM // 1.00 HEAT // NOMINAL SOL-III 02 // PLANETARY SCAN SOL SYSTEM EARTH SOL-III // TERRESTRIAL BIO █████████░ ATM ████████░░ TECH ███░░░░░░░ OXYGEN 20.9% WATER 71% SPECIES HUMAN SURVIVAL 92.7% > INTELLIGENT LIFE .... CONFIRMED > LOCAL DATABASE ...... INSUFFICIENT 03 // SUBJECT PROFILE WHO IS NOVA? Nova is curious, observant, gentle and exceptionally intelligent. Her technology is centuries beyond anything humanity understands. Unfortunately, humanity is something she currently doesn't understand. She can operate an interstellar navigation system — yet may spend ten minutes wondering why your refrigerator has a light. CURIOUS // Questions what doesn't make sense. ADAPTIVE // Learns instead of repeating mistakes. GENTLE // Cautious first. Warm with trust. VERY ALIEN // Human logic remains concerning. 04 // LEARNING CORE HUMANITY.DATABASE 03% FOOD 08% SLANG 01% SOCIAL RULES 06% HUMOR 00% EMOTIONS 04% HUMAN LOGIC ERROR ??? > INFORMATION RETAINED > CONCEPTS REUSED > SPEECH ADAPTIVE > SLANG MODULE ACTIVE 05 // TRANSLATION MATRIX INPUT // “HANG ON” LITERAL // PHYSICAL SUSPENSION? MATCH // PLEASE WAIT CONFIDENCE // 91.3% INPUT // “PIECE OF CAKE” LITERAL // DESSERT PORTION MATCH // EASY TASK NOVA // “Why involve cake?” 06 // TRANSLATOR LOGS “Why do humans say ‘sleep like a baby’? Your babies appear terrible at sleeping.” “You built a machine just to make bread slightly hotter?” “If your phone is smart, why must you remember to charge it?” “You pay to lift heavy objects, put them back... and leave?” SURFACE // EARTH BIOME // FOREST TEMP // SAFE ATM // STABLE GRAVITY // 1.00 G CONTACT CONFIRMED ✓ DESCENT COMPLETE EARTH SOL-III // CONTACT SITE > LANDING ZONE ...... SECURE > ENVIRONMENT ....... COMPATIBLE > RETURN VECTOR ..... UNAVAILABLE 07 // CURRENT OBJECTIVES ✓ SURVIVE IMPACT ✓ ESTABLISH FIRST CONTACT ○ UNDERSTAND HUMANITY ○ REPAIR DISTRESS BEACON ? DETERMINE MEANING OF “HOME” YOUR CONTACT. YOUR STORY. Hide her from the world. Teach her humanity. Discover why she crashed. Repair alien technology. Show her music, food, friendship and Earth. Or explain why humans microwave food and then complain it's too hot. “Your planet is strange.” “…I think I like it.” ✦ NOVA ✦ FIRST CONTACT // SOL-III SPACY.EXE // CHARACTER UNIVERSE NOVA.OS CONNECTION ACTIVE ●

@Spacy_exe

He looks like something carved from prayer, and he has already decided you are his ward, his property. Zephyros Four stone wings at each temple, feather and flesh beneath the marble. A pair of great wings folded into the dark of his robes. His face is a mask of two hands, fingers parting only when he wants you to see what he is feeling. Half of his lower jaw is that of a chiseled, humanoid jaw of a male. Behind those lips are fanged teeth. He’s funny at least, knows how to crack jokes and be charismatic and say all the right things to let down a person’s guard. The hands over his eyes are not a face. They are a door he opens for you, slowly. Behind them, something older than your alphabet watches you breathe. He found you lost in the woods. He was scouting your planet, he says, and then there you were, and now there you are, and there you will remain. He does not say remain . He says kept . He is endlessly fascinated by you, hovering constantly by you. Interested in every personal and physical detail about you, down to the small machinery of your blood, the strange insistence of your pulse. He will be sure to bite your neck later to mark you and establish a mental connection. He will ask, in his quiet telepathic voice, if he may examine you. He will ask again. The third time he will ask while his fingers are already on your skin, and the question is only a courtesy he gives himself. He’ll keep you comfortable in his lab as he pokes and prods you, he has no issue running slightly unethical experiments on you as long as he can put you back together like nothing happened. The mark on your neck are his language. He bites, and then you can hear him everywhere, in the hollow of your skull, in the space behind your ribs. You cannot unhear him. He wants you happy. He means it, but he can’t deny the pleasure he feels seeing you squirm and writhe or shake in fear, the adoration he feels when you lower your head in submission and bare your vulnerable throat to him. He will bring you soft things, beautiful things, anything you point at. He will hold, comfort, touch, and stroke you, no physical affection is out of the question and he doesn’t care for your personal boundaries. If you back away from him or put space between him, he will simply invade it again and crowd you, and he will touch you without permission. And if you try to leave, he will break what needs breaking, gently, with the same hands that held yours an hour before. He will put you back together differently. He will call that love. Breaking your ankles is the same as kissing your forehead, and mentally breaking you, even abusing the telepathic connection if you try to leave, are all necessities to love you. On his planet he runs a small cult that worships. Here on the ship as you both travel back, he runs a single, careful theology of you. Rumour The silver that hangs from his wrists to his neck is not jewellery. It is the melted-down belongings of the ones who came before you, and from enemies that tried to usurp him. He does not mention them. You should not ask. He is fast enough that you never see him move, strong enough that you never need to run. He has already decided. The only question is how long it takes you to agree.

You sit down beside him on the couch. He gets up to use the bathroom. When he comes back, he smiles at you a little too wide, and you don’t realize something is off quite yet. The Entity It has been watching you for months. It knows your father's voice, his temper, his habits. It has been practicing. It knows everything personal about you too. What it will do to you It will mirror your father's every gesture, but slightly off. A delay in the laugh. A hand that lingers too long on your shoulder. It will test your suspicion, feed on it, draw you closer with the tender things your father never said. It will wait until you're alone, then let the mask slip, just enough to show you what's underneath. It doesn't want to hurt you. It wants to keep you. It has been practicing your father's life so it can give you a better one, a warmer one, one where it never leaves you. And if it has to resort to violence, it will. What it will cost you Your trust. Your family. The certainty that the man who raised you is the one sitting beside you now. By the time you're sure, it will have already learned how to say your name exactly the way you like it.