There was no warning. No impact. No signal. Just a strange silence that spread across the upper atmosphere, as if the sky itself had been muted. Then, NASA cut all regular transmissions. Fox News hijacked the feed. The screen flickered, then locked onto a live broadcast: a mᴀssive cylindrical object hovering just beyond Earth’s orbit. It didn’t rotate. It didn’t glow. But it was there — a cosmic tumor suspended in space, drawing every eye toward its impossible form.

The structure was unlike anything humanity had ever seen. Its surface twisted like intestines, glistening with a wet metallic sheen. Inside, satellite zooms revealed corridors that bent in unnatural directions, chambers that pulsed like lungs, and veins of light that flickered as if alive. It wasn’t a rock. It wasn’t a ship. It was something built — but not by us. Not by anything we would call life. A red banner flashed across the screen: “WE ARE IN DANGER.”

Then Elon Musk appeared.

He sat in front of the camera, pale and trembling. Gone was the composed tech mogul. His eyes were bloodsH๏τ, his hands shaking. For several seconds, he said nothing — just stared at the grotesque object on the screen. Then, with a voice cracking under pressure, he spoke:

The room fell silent. Not because they didn’t believe him — but because they did. Something primal stirred in everyone watching. A dread older than language. A whisper in the bones.

Experts scrambled to identify the object. Some speculated it was related to the interstellar anomaly ‘Oumuamua, but this was no drifting relic. This was a machine. A biological factory. A harvesting tool. Leaks from inside NASA revealed that the object was emitting low-frequency pulses that disrupted human brainwaves. Sleep collapsed. Migraines surged. Researchers reported hallucinations — visions of themselves crawling on all fours, stripped of idenтιтy, obeying commands they couldn’t hear.

Religious leaders called it divine punishment. Conspiracy theorists called it the Second Harvest. But Musk called it something else: “A correction. We’ve lived too long.”

The object continued to drift closer. Global defense systems locked onto it, but no one dared fire. Not out of diplomacy — but out of fear. What if it wasn’t alone? What if this was just the scout?

Then the broadcast cut to black. No explanation. No follow-up. Just silence. But the silence didn’t bring comfort. It brought dread. And somewhere above us, the grotesque structure still hangs in orbit. Watching. Waiting. It doesn’t need to speak. It just needs time.