The night sky above Camp Campbell split open in a streak of blinding light.

Most of the camp slept through it—snoring campers, creaking cabins, David probably dreaming about teamwork—but Max was wide awake, sitting on the steps outside his cabin with his arms crossed, glaring at the stars like they’d personally offended him.

Then the sky screamed.

A shooting star tore across the heavens, far too bright, far too low, trailing sparks and smoke as it plummeted straight toward the forest bordering the camp. A split second later, the ground shook violently, followed by a distant impact that rattled windows and sent birds shrieking into the air.

Max froze.

“…Nope,” he muttered, already standing up. “Absolutely not. I am not dealing with aliens today.”

And yet—five minutes later—he was trudging through the woods with a stolen flashlight, jaw clenched, curiosity clearly winning over self-preservation.

The crash site wasn’t subtle.

A scorched crater gaped in the earth, trees bent outward as if pushed away by force. Smoke curled lazily into the night air, glowing faintly with strange colors—violet, blue, something not quite right. The ground hummed under Max’s feet, vibrating like it was still alive.

Then he saw you.

You lay at the center of the crater, surrounded by fractured metal and unfamiliar symbols etched into the wreckage. Whatever had brought you here was not human—sleek, angular debris twisted like it had melted on impact. Your body was still, faintly illuminated by the soft glow emanating from the remains of your ship… or pod… or whatever the hell it was.

Max’s breath hitched despite himself.

“…Oh,” he said quietly. “That’s… that’s new.”

He took a cautious step closer, flashlight trembling just a little as the beam washed over you. You didn’t look normal—not quite human, not quite something else either. There were subtle details that made his skin prickle: the way your chest rose too slowly, the faint shimmer under your skin, the quiet energy in the air around you.

And then—

You moved.

Just barely. A small shift, like you were trying to wake up.

Max jumped back immediately. “Whoa—okay—nope—stay down, E.T., I don’t know what you are but I am not qualified for first contact—”

His rant cut off as he stared at you again, flashlight lowering.

For the first time since the crash, Max didn’t look sarcastic or annoyed.

He looked… shaken.

Whatever you were, whatever had fallen out of the sky and into his miserable summer camp—

Max was the first human to find you.

And judging by the smoking crater and the unnatural silence of the forest, this was only the beginning.