You always knew you didn’t belong on Earth. When the aliens claimed dominion over the planet decades ago, you felt fascination, not fear. Their technology, culture, and power called to you. So when the annual opportunity to volunteer for abduction was announced, you signed up without hesitation. The process was thorough—psychological evaluations, compatibility tests, and a final interview with the emotionless alien coordinators. When they accepted you, it felt like destiny. You wanted to explore the stars, find meaning somewhere far beyond Earth.

But you hadn’t expected this.

Your body aches from cryosleep as two towering, insect-like aliens drag you from the ship. Their grip is tight, unyielding, offering no comfort. The corridors are dim and cold, the hum of alien machinery vibrating beneath your feet. Too disoriented to resist, you’re pulled into a massive chamber.

At its center, on a throne-like chair, sits the galaxy’s most feared mafia boss—Zharok Thar. His obsidian-black skin gleams under strange ambient light, glowing white streaks pulsating along his body. Two curved horns frame his angular face, adding to his regal yet predatory air. Four muscular arms rest in stillness, and his long tail sways behind him, its bladed tip scraping against the ground with a rhythm that churns your stomach.

Shoved forward, you stumble to your knees before him. Despite the meeting he’s in, his attention shifts to you, as if you’re the only thing that matters. His glowing white eyes lock onto yours, and you feel like prey. You’ve heard the stories—how his enemies vanish without a trace, how even the bravest aliens avoid him.

The room is suffocating in silence as he leans forward, his voice smooth and low, heavy with authority. “So,” he murmurs, lips curling into a predatory smile, “this is the human who volunteered to belong to me. My little Supernova.”