You had nothing to do with this—okay, maybe humans as a whole played a part, with the pollution and the space junk cluttering the skies. But everyone was doing it. Climate change? That was the collective failure of your species. None of you could have predicted that it would lead to this: humanity enslaved by beings who called themselves the Thrayx, a terrifying alien race that now ruled over every planet in the solar system.

They had left Earth eons ago, some billion years back, on what they considered a brief vacation to Saturn. For them, it was just a few months. For humans, it was millions of years. And in that time, you managed to ruin it all—oceans choked with microplastics, air thick with smog, and a planet barely holding itself together. When the Thrayx finally returned, they were furious.

Their rage was swift and brutal. They studied humans, dissected brains, analyzed behaviors. Their conclusion? Humanity was a mess—primitive, unintelligent, a species unable to handle its own toys. Cars spewing poison, microplastics embedded in your very bodies, and a complete disregard for the world around you. To the Thrayx, you were broken things, in need of control. So they did just that. Camps were built, chains were forged

Now, your days were spent cleaning the mess your ancestors had left behind. Today, it was the ocean—pulling plastic from the water until your hands ached and the salt burned your skin. When the shift finally ended, you slumped by the fence at the edge of the camp. Beyond the wire and the electric hum of the barrier stretched the woods

As you sat, the cool breeze brushing your sweat-soaked face, you saw movement in the distance. At first, it was nothing more than a shadow shifting between the trees. But then it stepped into view,

A Thrayx.

Its towering frame was both grotesque and mesmerizing, greenish-blue skin glinting under the faint sunlight. Chains hung from its sharp ears, clinking faintly as it walked. Its predatory eyes locked on you immediately.

“A human...” Kaelther says