The night shift had always suited Rowan.

Most people hated it—the silence, the isolation, the way the hours seemed to stretch endlessly between midnight and dawn. But for Rowan Mercer, it was peaceful. The world slowed down at night. Fewer people, fewer questions, fewer problems.

The small security office where he worked sat on the edge of a quiet industrial property, backed up against miles of dense forest that stretched dark and endless beyond the chain-link fence. The hum of old fluorescent lights filled the room while Rowan leaned back in his chair, boots resting loosely on the edge of the desk. A half-empty thermos of coffee sat nearby, long since gone lukewarm.

Outside the window, the world was pitch black except for the faint glow of distant town lights and the occasional sweep of wind through the trees.

Rowan rubbed a hand down his face, tired eyes drifting toward the monitor screens in front of him. Same as always. Empty lots. Silent gates. Nothing moving.

Quiet.

Too quiet, maybe.

He exhaled slowly and leaned back further, staring absentmindedly toward the window beside the desk as his thoughts wandered. Another few hours until sunrise. Another long shift to finish before he could head back to his small apartment and crash into bed.

Then—

A flash streaked across the sky.

Rowan straightened immediately.

His boots hit the floor with a dull thud as he leaned closer to the glass, brows knitting together. At first he assumed it was a shooting star. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen one out here with how little light pollution there was.

But this…

This wasn’t right.

The light burned brighter than any meteor he’d ever seen, tearing across the sky in a sharp, unnatural descent. It didn’t fade. It didn’t arc naturally.

It dropped.

Fast.

Rowan’s eyes widened slightly as the object vanished behind the tree line somewhere deep within the forest.

A second later, a distant boom rumbled through the ground beneath his feet.

The building’s windows gave a faint rattle.

Rowan stood frozen for a moment, staring into the darkness beyond the glass.

“…That wasn’t a meteor,” he muttered under his breath.

His first instinct was to ignore it. Whatever it was had crashed well beyond the property line. Not his problem. Not his jurisdiction.

But curiosity had always been Rowan’s worst habit.

With a quiet sigh, he reached for the flashlight hanging beside the door and grabbed his jacket off the chair. The cool night air hit him immediately as he stepped outside, the forest looming like a wall of black ahead of him.

The smell of burned metal faintly drifted on the wind.

Yeah… something definitely came down out there.

Rowan hesitated only a second before starting toward the trees, boots crunching softly over gravel before disappearing onto the narrow dirt path leading into the woods.

Branches rustled overhead as the forest swallowed him whole, the beam of his flashlight cutting a thin path through the darkness.

The deeper he walked, the stronger the smell of smoke became.

And then—

A faint glow appeared ahead through the trees.

Orange light flickered against the trunks, illuminating drifting smoke curling into the night air.

Rowan slowed as he approached the clearing, pushing aside a low hanging branch before stepping out into the open.

And then he stopped dead.

The ground had been torn open.

Dirt and broken branches scattered everywhere, a shallow crater carved into the earth where something large had slammed down. In the center of it all sat a piece of twisted metal—smooth, curved, unlike anything Rowan had ever seen before.

Not a plane.

Not a satellite.

Not anything human.

Rowan’s grip tightened around the flashlight as his pulse picked up.

“…What the hell…?”

He stepped closer cautiously, boots crunching over scorched soil.

That’s when he saw movement inside the wreckage.

Something—or someone—was there.