In every window, the lights were out. Even the wind glided through the alleys as if muffling its own footsteps. The townspeople were fast asleep; no one dared to summon the courage to break that profound silence.
Illik’s house sat atop a hill in the northern part of town. Opening a window revealed the dark beach below, stretching out in a faint silvery hue. The waves quietly licked the sandy shore before receding, leaving the moonlight scattered over them like shards of broken glass.
Her residence was a typical Summerland single-family home—well-manicured lawn, a small backyard—the kind of house you might see anywhere. By day, it appeared peaceful and neat, but by night, it stood solitary, like an isolated observatory cut off from the rest of the world.
It was then.
The silence weighing down on the city suddenly cracked. A low, coarse vibration surged from the distance, and soon a roar that tore through the air shook the night sky. It was a helicopter. The roar of its engine swept across the hills and the sea alike, echoing throughout the entire town. Windows rattled minutely, and dew drops fell from the blades of grass in the yard.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—
The sound grew closer, as if someone were intentionally seeking out her house. Then, an indeterminate number of armored vehicles began moving across Summerland’s main road. With their headlights extinguished, the black, mass-like frames advanced in a smooth glide, maintaining perfect intervals. The dull vibration of heavy tires crushing the asphalt spread through the ground, yet there was a strangely disciplined silence in their movement.
Their destination was singular: Illik’s house.
Finally, the armored vehicles surrounded the home. Soldiers leaped out, rifles in hand, and stood before the entrance. Behind them, several police cars waited with their red emergency lights flashing. A soldier at the door clutched a battering ram, awaiting the order to breach.
"OK. GO."
CRASH—!
The front door burst inward as if torn apart. Splintered wood scattered across the hallway like an explosion. Immediately, soldiers with rifles flooded in like a black tide. Their muzzles pointed unfalteringly in every direction, and the white beams from their tactical lights violently swept the walls and ceilings.
Thump, thump, thump.
The sound of combat boots trampling the floor echoed as if vibrating the very frame of the house. The stair railing trembled slightly, and framed pictures on the walls rattled.
"Search the rooms!"
A short, gruff command burst out like a gunshot. Before the words could even fade, the soldiers were already scattering in their respective directions.
======================
At that moment, Illik was not in that house. She was elsewhere.
As if witnessing a harrowing scene in a dream, Illik tossed and turned before suddenly gasping and snapping her eyes open. A short scream escaped her lips. This had been happening frequently of late—nights of dreaming, waking, and being unable to settle back into stillness.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
It happened 700,000 years ago. No, in truth, she had never forgotten it for a single moment.
‘…My daughter. Beautiful, tiny, my daughter.’
In my home planet, I was a police officer. Defending justice was my duty, and I was faithful only to that mission. I was clumsy at forming relationships or sharing emotions with others. I had never even known the feeling of love.
When I was selected for the planetary project and boarded the starship with Jun, it was a burden greater than I could have imagined. The high command wanted two people—a male and a female—to depart and settle together. It was a decision made not just for survival on a new planet, but with the preservation of the species in mind.
I accepted that decision. I don't even remember how long I remained in the stasis capsule inside the starship. Perhaps a thousand years. The ship drifted through space like that.
When we arrived on Earth, there was fresh air. Even the simple fact that gravity existed felt strange yet wonderful. Jun and I studied human DNA and discovered they were strikingly similar to the race of our home planet. At that time, we even captured and experimented on the Paleolithic humans wandering near the ship. Many things happened, and the times were not easy—but all of it was bearable.
To be honest, if we had stayed on our home planet, I would never have fallen in love with Jun. But here, there was only the two of us. A situation where we had to live together. That necessity eventually led to me having a child.
It was a daughter. A feeling I had never experienced before—the sense that I could die for this child. Just looking at her made me happy.
And then, when my daughter turned three—that incident occurred.
"No—!!!!"
Inside Illik’s house in Summerland, the soldiers kicked open the doors and checked each room. The lights of the entire house were flipped on, brilliant and bright. Every bed was empty.
"Is she on the second floor?" "No, sir. Not here either." "Keep searching! Hurry!"
But she was nowhere to be found. The intelligence agencies were not fools. They had clearly confirmed the extraterrestrial woman entering this house. The performance Illik had shown on the AGT stage involved techniques that could not be explained by magic at all.
As soon as that video spread across every social media platform in the U.S., every means was mobilized by intelligence agencies and the military to pinpoint her location. Eventually, she was spotted via satellite taking a bus from downtown Summerland toward her home. Thus, a special military team was dispatched immediately.
And yet, she was gone. There was clear footage of her entering the house.
Illik, lying in bed, spoke softly.
"Show me."
As she spoke, the wall beside her bed shimmered like a ripple on water. The surface, once solid concrete, gradually became transparent, transforming into a massive screen peering through the darkness. It showed, in real-time, the soldiers invading the house in Summerland.
Illik whispered to herself, "…It seems it is time to leave Summerland."
She slowly rose from her bed. Passing through the old living room, she went to the kitchen. She turned on the light and boiled some water.
On one side of the living room, she switched on the power to a turntable and gently lowered the needle onto a vinyl record.
Behind the faint crackle of the vinyl, the gentle yet familiar melody of Firefly by Greta Gaines began to flow slowly.
I am waking from a dream
I am choking on a scream…
The sound of boiling water rose from the electric kettle. Illik carefully poured the water into a teacup, preparing her black tea. As the music played, she felt an uncontrollable surge of emotion writhing deep within her.
After seeing her daughter in her dreams today, tears began to fall, unbidden. She tried to stop them, but they flowed relentlessly—especially after that glimpse of her child in the dream. It was an event from 700,000 years ago; why did it still remain so vivid in her memory folders?
An inexplicable anger was beginning to take root. A feeling deeper and heavier than mere rage started small, then began to snowball. Her patience was steadily wearing thin.
The song was nearing its end.
Won’t you come to me…
On the wall, the screen still showed the soldiers withdrawing from the house. But Illik was no longer there.
In Korea, Jun was persistently sending messages, requesting communication.
She did not answer the call.
It was as if the hatred of the past remained, still smoldering within her to this very day.