Oben watched Koruk collapse in front of him, the primitive stone knife embedded in his chest. He fell to the stone floor heavily, and laid still. Oben panted, panic welling up inside of him. He didn’t have a choice, he told himself. The orc had attacked him on the bridge. It was me or him.

  He stumbled away, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. No. He couldn’t afford to feel that way. He had a mission to complete. Everything was riding on him. He had to figure out a way to send the awaken signal. This place must have some technology, some power source that he could use to rig up a radio transmitter. So far he hadn’t seen any sign of anything technological though in this ancient ruin.

  He turned back one last time to look at Koruk’s dead body. It was a shame. The orc seemed kind in his own way. He didn’t know what had prompted him to turn violent. Some flaw in his psyche perhaps. Reverting to programmed instinct? He supposed he’d probably never know now.

  As he turned and stepped through the doorway, he was shocked to find himself outside. It was a cloudy day. When he turned, the door had vanished behind him.

  It’s a trick. They’re in your head, Oben.

  “It has to be a trick…” He finished aloud.

  Green grassy fields stretched out before him, and beyond that, was his home.

  For a long time Oben just stood there. Intrusive thoughts ran through his head, and he mumbled the mantra of pure thinking under his breath to try to quell them, to try to dispel this obvious illusion. It didn’t seem to help much.

  Eventually he found himself walking. Putting one foot in front of the next. The building that was once his home loomed closer with each step. Its white walls stood out beautifully against the surrounding hills. The hydroponic greenhouse fans turned on, and the loud whirr of the motors sent a chill down his spine.

  When he poked his head into the greenhouse, a familiar voice greeted him.

  “Oben!”

  A young woman rose from tending her plants, a broad smile on her face. Oben felt his heart drop through his stomach.

  “A-Aliyse.”

  “I didn’t expect you back so soon! Did they give you leave? What did…”

  Her words died on her lips when Oben embraced her tightly.

  “I-It’s good to see you.”

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  “I can see that. What’s gotten into you? Not that I mind.” Aliyse giggled. Oben didn’t respond but just held her.

  “Umm, do you wanna see what I’ve been working on?” She asked, patting him on the back awkwardly. Oben nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  As his wife showed him her latest research on grain speciation, Oben stood stonefaced. His mind was blank with shock. This was clearly some sort of illusion but…

  “… oh and this is really cool! We spliced in genes to make this one grow better in the arid northern regions. It doesn’t even need to be watered! Well not much anyways. And guess what? They’re giving us a grant for it, and a limited deployment! All under controlled supervision of course. If this got out into the wild it would be an ecological disaster!” She laughed. “Honey are you listening?”

  “Huh?”

  “Ah… sorry Oben! You must be tired from the flight and probably don’t want to hear about plants. I know I go on sometimes. Come inside, I’ll get you something to eat!”

  She gripped his hand and led the shocked Oben across the compound, towards a small white habitat with plastic walls and shining glass windows, rising out of a sea of short green grass.

  Inside the house, Aliyse disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Oben to look around the living room. He walked around slowly, his footsteps padding softly on the textured plastic flooring, and he brushed his hand along the back of the sofa, feeling the tight weave of the fabric. It felt familiar, and yet so alien compared to the rough homespun cloth of the orcs.

  That’s right, I must look like a wildman right now, he thought to himself, but when he looked down at himself he noticed he was wearing a crisp, clean, system defense force uniform.

  “Was it all just a dream?” He asked aloud.

  A soft light in the corner of the room caught his attention. His personal computer console. He smiled, despite himself, and went up to it, pressing his thumb into the unlock button. The machine registered his identity and greeted him. He wondered what was new on the nilbynet. When he was off work he would typically spend most of his free time using the computer, while his wife worked in the greenhouse with the other compound researchers.

  As he sat down on the chair and rolled it up to the computer, he noticed the time and date displayed on the greeting screen.

  Firstday, Third Quarter, 3094IY

  The day the world ended.

  It took a moment for it to register in Oben’s brain what he was looking at, and then when understanding came he stared in shock at the date. The day the world ended.

  Memories flooded back into his mind. He remembered the battle in orbit. The klaxons had woken him in the middle of his sleep cycle, and he had rushed to the flight deck. He remembered watching the ship disintegrate into a cloud of shining metal fragments behind his fighter. Seeing the flashes of light as the outsiders bombarded the surface, clouds of ash and dust spreading across the planet…

  “Honey, are you alright?”

  Oben snapped back to the present. Aliyse was standing behind him, holding a tray of yeaststicks. He wondered if he should tell her. No. No, there’s no point. Better she remain ignorant.

  “I’m fine. I just… I’m just glad to be home is all.” He said, giving her a weak smile. “Tell me more about your desert grain thing.”

  They sat on the sofa together, and Oben listened to his wife go on an intricate tangent about the biological properties of oatgrass that was far above his pay grade. He was never really that interested in science, and had only barely passed the engineering requirements to be a pilot.

  As they sat, a light flashed outside, and the world went white.