Isaiah took in Jenny with those muddy brown eyes of his. "Do you believe that I want to go?" He asked, sliding his finger on her jaw and then holding it in the most delicate way he could. Elena watched with devastating annoyance."I don't know," she said, looking away, still as shy as ever."What do you think of me?" He asked. She did not reply.He did not fret at that. "Well, you are right. The ball is not in my court. I can't make the decision. I think I should go. You heard them, didn't you? Earth is about to get invaded. And if that happens, I can't have you. I will try my best to protect you and this world just because you are in it."Jenny felt her cheeks burning. A smile lingered on it for sometime. It disappeared, almost as if it was outweighed by the sheer sadness that surrounded them."It's okay," she said. "I just hope that you come back to me. Alive. I know you will. But I just want you to promise me that you will be coming back.""I promise you, my love," he said. "I will

"What?" Proffessor Strathmore asked at the top of his voice. He somehow became conscious of the fact that he was too loud for walls as thin as that. He gained composure and sort to straighten up the angry lines on his face by sliding his hands up and down it. "What?" He said in a much more lower tone of voice, although it was by no means a calmer tone. "You have to be kidding me."In the room with him was Walter, James, Harold, and Alan. All of them had a particular feature to their faces. They were ridden with shock and a sort of disquiet discomfort that had them look like they had just be fished out of a pool of ice."And that's it," Waiter said. "We wish we were. But not quite so, I am telling you. We are not kidding you, I swear on everything. What we are saying is what happened. We don't remember what happened last night. It seems like rubbish, but this is what happened. None of us remembers everything. Alan."Alan seemed greatly disturbed that he had been called out. But he had

'He knows.' This was the thought in Jenny's mind. But she wouldn't let him know, or else everything would be for naught. She had to conceal it and play dumb, however way it war possible to do so."What are you talking about, Nathan?" She asked, seeking to be as ambiguous as possible. "For godsakes, even i don't have my memories. I don't remember shit about what happened that night. If I knew it why would I not tell you? All of this is just a silly distraction from the very fact that you are in my house without permission, and there is no reason for you to be. Do you want me to call the cops on you? Because that is what I am about to do.""Oh, Jenny, cut the crap!" He said with a sharp sigh. "You know what I am talking about. You just spent the last few minutes talking about Isaiah going away and about a bitch, a red man, and a man with white hair. What was that about? Do you think I am a fool?"'He heard it!' she thought. "What? How long have you been watching at me?" What is going o

Jenny was immediately out of breath when Nathan finally left the room. It was as though she had been storing all the air in her chest and trying not to breath, in fear that a single breath of air, would out her to him as being guilty of what he was accusing her of. She laid her frame to the wall, still trying to hold her breath. Her hands were placed on her chest where she could feel the organ beating expensively fast.She suddenly remembered what he told her before he went away. About him being followed. "What was that? A warning? What the hell?" Her heart drummed faster once more. She could not take the anxiety and paranoia. "I have to get out of here. Where is my phone? I have to call someone."She zoomed over to the bed where her phone was on. Her hands shook as she held it and dialed a number. "Who to call! Who to call! Jackson! Luke!" Her hands shifted violently around the phone as she dialed Luke's number. "Pick up! Pick up!"The phone was picked up almost immediately. "Jenny,

General Norman's words were trailed by silence. It was not the kind born of the bowels of ignorance, but that kind forged from calculation—each general weighing survival against pride, fear against authority, fear of the unknown. The images of the Zortox lay scattered across the table like verdicts yet to be read.Isaiah studied them from the corner. He was wary, but trying to keep it from showing. No one around had to know that there was fear in his heart. Elena's eyes lingered on him for sometime. His gaze was hard as it pierced into the picture on the table. There was unmistakable shock on his face.They were… familiar. The creatures.Not in shape alone, but in posture. In the way they stood in the captured images—upright, assured, as though the universe itself had already agreed to make room for them. Golden hair like strands of gold, eyes too calm for creatures allegedly new to conquest. They did not look like invaders. They looked like a golden race of humans. And to Isaiah, he