CHRONOPHAGE

Chapter 1 — Static Echoes

The sun hung lazily over Arcadia City, baking the school courtyard in soft golden light. The chatter of students floated on the wind, the kind of normal day no one pays attention to—until it’s gone.

Zereth leaned against the wall behind the martial arts building, school uniform wrinkled, headphones half-in, a book on quantum theory resting in one hand. The other hand nursed a still-healing bruise on his jaw.

“Still reading that nerd crap?” a familiar voice teased.

He didn’t need to look up. “It’s called preparing for survival, Mikael.”

His best friend—tall, loud, and all fists before thoughts—flopped down next to him, slapping his backpack on the ground. “Yeah, yeah. Physics, biology, survival stuff. Just say you wanna be Batman already.”

Zereth smirked slightly. “Batman doesn’t kill. That’s a design flaw.”

Mikael blinked. “You worry me sometimes.”

Zereth turned the page. “You should worry more about what’s real. We live on a dying planet.”

Mikael opened his mouth to respond—but then their conversation was cut short.

BZZZZZT.

A low-frequency hum rippled through the air. Zereth’s earpiece buzzed out. Phones vibrated. The school’s digital billboard glitched.

Then a voice blared from the intercom:

“Attention, all faculty and students—remain calm. There has been a nationwide emergency broadcast. All classes are to return indoors. This is not a drill.”

The courtyard froze.

Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

In the classroom, chaos had a quieter face: whispers, phones clutched in white-knuckled hands, and the occasional curse from someone checking the news.

Zereth’s eyes narrowed. A red emergency ticker scrolled across the school’s smartboard:

BREAKING: Government experiment at Blackfall Research Station compromised. Possible alien anomaly detected. Multiple containment breaches. Authorities urge all civilians to remain indoors.

“Aliens?” Mikael hissed under his breath. “You think it’s real?”

Zereth didn’t answer. He was staring at the diagram now flashing onscreen: a blurry satellite image of a crater where the Blackfall lab used to be. The timestamp was two hours ago.

And in the center of that crater: something moving.

Zereth clenched his jaw. “Whatever it is… we’re already too late.”

By lunchtime, the military had deployed to major cities.

Helicopters thundered overhead. Soldiers in black exo-armor marched through the schoolyard, setting up checkpoints. Everyone was herded into the gym. Drones circled above.

Inside the gym, it was sweltering and tense. Teachers tried to maintain order, but even they didn’t know what was going on.

Zereth sat on the bleachers, arms folded, eyes scanning the ceiling vents.

“What are you thinking?” Mikael asked beside him.

“That if the infection is airborne, we’re already dead,” Zereth replied flatly.

“That’s not helping, bro.”

Zereth gave him a tired glance. “Neither is pretending it’ll be okay.”

Suddenly, a loud metallic snap echoed from the west wall.

Everyone turned.

A vent cover clattered to the floor, and something wet hit the ground.

It looked human. But its flesh was semi-translucent, like jelly dipped in blood. Its limbs were too long. Eyes black and reflective. It twitched, then shrieked—a high-pitched screech that sent everyone to the ground screaming.

Soldiers opened fire.

The thing didn’t bleed. It didn’t even flinch. It moved—one moment crouched, the next disemboweling a sergeant with its clawed hand.

Zereth grabbed Mikael’s arm and yanked him behind the bleachers. “Don’t freeze!”

“I—I can’t—”

Zereth slapped him, hard. “Mikael. Snap out of it.”

His friend's wide, terrified eyes met his.

“We’re not gonna die here. Understand?”

Mikael nodded shakily.

Zereth grabbed a metal pole from a banner stand and crouched, calculating the creature’s movement.

Two soldiers were already down. The third was trying to reload, but the thing was almost on him.

Zereth didn’t think. He sprinted.

The beast turned toward him mid-lunge—and he drove the metal pole up into its jaw, pinning it against the wall.

It writhed. Hissed. But for a moment—it stopped.

And Zereth saw something glowing inside it.

Like a clock made of flesh and teeth.

The creature hissed, and whispered—not in sound, but in thought.

“We devour time... You are not ready...”

Zereth’s nose bled.

Then the thing imploded—flesh folding inward, vanishing in a pulse of heat.

The gym was silent.

Dead silent.

Mikael slowly stood. “Zereth... what the hell was that?”

Zereth didn’t answer.

His fingers were shaking.

But in the pit of his stomach, something stirred. Not fear. Not shock.

Hunger.

Something alien had touched him. Spoken to him.

And left something behind.

End of Chapter 1