Far away, in a lab brimming with machines, red data lights, and humming tubes, a man stood silent before a blank monitor.
Dr. Vlad Orlov clenched his fists as another line of code blinked out.
"Signal lost," said the robotic voice.
He slammed his fist into the console. Sparks flew.
"NO!"
Behind him, decades of notebooks and hardware lay scattered. Above, the name NORTON CITY RESEARCH WING flickered faintly.
Dr. Norton. Once his partner. Once his friend.
They had been close—inseparable in their ambition. Co-authors, co-creators. Vlad remembered the nights they spent arguing over theoretical boundaries, building what others said was impossible.
Until the accident.
The explosion in the lab had nearly crippled Vlad.
He'd woken up in a hospital bed, legs numb, vision hazy. Norton had stood by him, promised he'd continue the work for both of them.
Vlad had believed him.
Until the headlines.
"Dr. Norton Revolutionizes Communication Tech!"
"Breakthrough Discovery: Norton Breaks the Barrier of Quantum Relay!"
No mention of Vlad. Not a single word.
He remembered calling. Norton hadn't answered.
Then silence.
The betrayal ran deep.
So he started again. In secret. Hidden in the shadows of the research wing they once built together.
Years passed. And one day, his prototype communicator—meant to bypass space-time via theoretical hyperlink mechanics—came to life.
Static at first. Then a voice.
"This is Dr. Henry McCoy. Who are you?"
"Someone seeking knowledge," Vlad replied cautiously. "Someone your world forgot."
McCoy was intrigued. A brilliant mind, far beyond even Vlad's understanding. He spoke of civilizations thriving on physics that would cripple Earth's best minds. They talked for hours, days even. Notes exchanged. Quantum blueprints debated.
And finally, McCoy said:
"Your world is decades—no, centuries—behind. But you have potential. I will send you something. A locator. It can help you trace a pod—let's call it a gift."
Vlad's pulse raced. This was it. This was what Norton could never achieve. Proof of worlds beyond.
The locator arrived weeks later. Encased in an alloy Vlad had never seen. With it, he tracked the descent of a small pod—a sealed capsule meant to deliver technology his world had never touched.
But then disaster struck.
A meteor shower. The pod was hit mid-atmosphere. It veered off-course. Crashed somewhere out of range.
Now the locator's screen was blank. Dead.
"No no no," Vlad muttered, pacing. "This was my moment. My vindication."
He slammed the table, sending a monitor flying.
Machines sparked. Glass shattered. The lab plunged into flickering chaos.
He stared at a photo taped above his workstation. Two smiling young scientists—Vlad and Norton—arm in arm, grinning over their first invention.
He ripped it down.
"You stole everything from me. My name. My future. But this? This is mine."
Back in the junkyard, night had begun to crawl in. A breeze stirred the heaps of rusted metal and crushed dreams.
Alex, Sierra, and Max stood on a ridge of junk, staring at the pod.
A soft hum radiated from it. A strange heat, like it was breathing.
None of them spoke.
Max was the first to inch forward.
"We need to see what's inside."
"We should call someone," Sierra said, arms crossed.
"And say what? 'Hi, we found alien tech in a trash heap'?"
Alex scratched his head. "He's got a point. Besides, you know if we leave this here, it'll be gone tomorrow."
"Or exploded," Sierra muttered.
Max nodded. "Then we better look now. Just a peek."
They took a few steps closer.
Alex, Sierra, and Max stood on a ridge of junk, staring at the pod.
A soft hum radiated from it. A strange heat, like it was breathing.
None of them spoke.
Max was the first to inch forward.
"Whoa. That's… that's a code interface," he said, eyes gleaming. Symbols pulsed across a narrow panel embedded in the hull.
Alex squinted. "You understand that?"
Max flashed a grin. "Sort of. Enough to try something."
He swung his backpack around, unzipped it, and pulled out his laptop. From another pocket, he retrieved a USB cable with a modified plug.
Sierra raised an eyebrow. "You carry that thing around everywhere?"
"Always be prepared for a close encounter," Max said with mock seriousness. "Now step aside. It's my time to rise and shine."
He plugged in, fingers flying across the keyboard. Lines of code scrolled. The pod's glow brightened, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Alex and Sierra exchanged a glance, half concerned, half amused.
"You sure he knows what he's doing?" Alex whispered.
"Absolutely not," Sierra replied.
Max leaned back dramatically. "And... done."
A soft chime echoed from the pod. A long hiss followed. Then, the hatch slid open with a mechanical sigh.
Blue-white light spilled out, illuminating their faces.
They stepped closer, hesitating at the edge.
Inside, the pod wasn't cramped—it was vast. Like they had stepped into a dimension tucked into metal.
Control panels lined the interior, glowing softly. Symbols scrolled across screens. Floating orbs hovered above strange slots. And at the far end, a crystalline chamber shimmered with layered circuits and what looked like liquid light.
Alex's jaw dropped. "Bro… it looks like we're in another sci-fi world."
Sierra let out a soft breath. "This is… impossible."
Max gave a proud little shrug. "Told you."
All three of them stood at the center, surrounded by mysteries they couldn't yet understand.