Beyond Earth

My name is Albert. Just Albert.

I’m sorry, but that’s all I can tell you. The less you know about me, the safer the people helping me will be, so please don’t ask for my real name or where I come from.

A few years ago, if someone had told me I’d become the most wanted man on Earth, I would’ve laughed and called them insane.

Life has a cruel sense of humor.

I was an only child.

My mother spent most of her life with a wine glass in one hand and a bottle within reach. She wasn’t cruel, just emotionally absent, drifting from one drink to the next.

My father was a scientist until he appeared on live television claiming aliens were real and humanity needed to prepare for their arrival. The scientific community mocked him, he lost his job, and he locked himself away in the basement, turning it into a private laboratory where he chased theories everyone else called madness.

My parents rarely argued because they barely spoke. They lived separate lives under the same roof, and neither seemed to know what to do with me.

Growing up without love changes a person. When no one celebrates your successes or comforts you after your failures, you begin believing you don’t matter.

I became painfully quiet, struggled to trust people, and my severe stutter made school even harder.

That’s why Jasper, Blake, and Billy targeted me. They mocked my stutter, stole my books, shoved me into lockers, tripped me in the cafeteria, and beat me after school whenever they had the chance. Eventually, I stopped trying to avoid them because they always found me.

When I came home bruised, my mother barely looked up from her drink. “Boys will be boys.”

My father simply told me to stand up for myself because, according to him, that’s how men were made.

Neither of them realized I wasn’t becoming stronger. I was becoming lonelier.

When I turned sixteen, my mother died from a heart attack before the ambulance arrived.

The funeral was small. Rain poured from gray skies as I searched the crowd, hoping someone from school had come. No one had. Only a few teachers stood beside the grave.

My father didn’t even show up. He ignored every phone call and never came to bury his own wife.

By the time the funeral ended, my grief had become anger.

I walked home alone through the rain and went straight to the basement. The door was locked, just as it had always been.

“Dad?” No answer.

I slammed my shoulder into the door. The old wood cracked. On the second hit, the lock gave way.

For the first time in my life, I entered my father’s laboratory.

The basement was far larger than it should have been. Red emergency lights illuminated humming machines, tangled cables, strange computers, and shelves filled with research journals covered in symbols I couldn’t read. Glass containers held preserved organs, while unfamiliar skeletons rested inside display cases.

At the center of the room stood two enormous tanks. Inside them floated two sleeping creatures. They looked almost human, standing nearly seven feet tall with smooth gray skin, no hair, long tails, and four clawed fingers. Dark veins glowed faintly beneath their skin, making them look both terrifying and strangely familiar.

Unable to resist my curiosity, I reached toward one of the tanks.

“Don’t touch it.”

I spun around. My father stood in the doorway, his stained lab coat hanging loosely from his thin frame. For a moment neither of us spoke. Then he sighed. “Come. Let’s talk.”

Minutes later we sat across from each other at the dining table. I finally asked the question that had been burning in my mind. “Are those… aliens?”

“If you want to call them aliens, yes,” he replied. “But they aren’t aliens.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He looked directly into my eyes. “They’re the indigenous people of Earth.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Albert, humans aren’t native to this planet. Five hundred thousand years ago, our world was dying, so our ancestors searched for another home. They found Earth and landed in what is now Egypt.”

“The pyramids?” I asked.

He nodded. “They aren’t tombs. They’re spacecraft.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “When humans arrived, our technology was far beyond anything the native inhabitants possessed. The beings you saw downstairs were Earth’s dominant intelligent species. They called themselves the Xaryth. They were the original owners of this planet.”

Silence filled the room as he lowered his eyes. “Our ancestors wiped them out. It wasn’t a war. We had advanced weapons while they fought with primitive technology. Most of the Xaryth were killed, some escaped into deep space, and those we captured became test subjects. We experimented on them for generations until they slowly died.”

The room suddenly felt colder. I struggled to breathe.

After several moments, I finally found my voice. “So… they’re called the Xaryth?”

My father nodded. “Yes. The original owners of Earth.”

Silence settled between us before I asked the question that had been bothering me. “How do you know all this?”

A faint smile crossed his face. “When I was a young scientist, I was approached by a man representing an organization called the Aeternum Institute for Exobiological Research. They study the biology, history, and technology of non-human civilizations. I signed one of the strictest non-disclosure agreements imaginable and spent years working there. That’s where I met your mother.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Mom was a scientist?”

He slowly shook his head. “No. Danielle wasn’t your real mother. She was an escort hired by the Institute to play that role.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“And I was assigned to play your father.”

The room spun around me. “No… You’re lying.”

My breathing became shallow as panic tightened around my chest. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.

My father hurried around the table and knelt beside me, placing a steady hand on my back. “Slow your breathing, Albert. You’re alright.”

For the first time in my life, he wasn’t distant or cold. He was comforting me. He stayed beside me until my breathing steadied. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. I nodded, still shaken.

After a long silence, I looked at him. “Who are my real parents?”

He returned to his seat and folded his hands. “Your biological mother was Piper, one of the Institute’s senior containment specialists. She was assigned to monitor a dangerous Xaryth prisoner. Some Xaryth possess extraordinary abilities beyond human understanding. He was one of them.”

He sighed. “The more time Piper spent studying him, the closer they became. Eventually, they fell in love, and she became pregnant with you. When the Institute discovered her pregnancy, she knew they would never allow the child to live. She helped him escape, but they were caught. Security opened fire and killed them both.”

His voice grew heavy. “When Piper’s body was recovered, doctors discovered you were still alive. They performed an emergency extraction.”

I sat frozen. “When you were born, you looked more Xaryth than human. Gray skin, dark eyes, and other features that slowly disappeared as you grew. No one knew whether you’d become humanity’s greatest threat or its greatest hope. So the Institute placed you under constant observation.”

“You.” I whispered. “You were watching me.”

He nodded. “Danielle and I were assigned to raise you while we waited to see if your Xaryth side would awaken.”

The silence between us felt endless.

Finally, I asked, “Why tell me this now?”

His tired smile returned. “Because you deserve the truth. And because I’m tired of living a lie.”

I swallowed. “So… I’m an alien?”

“Half Xaryth,” he corrected gently.

Before I could speak again, tires crunched outside the house. Several vehicles pulled into the driveway.

My father glanced toward the window and smiled. “Took them long enough.” He grabbed my forearm. “Listen carefully, Albert. The Xaryth are coming back to reclaim what was stolen from them. When that day comes… you’re our only hope.”

His grip tightened.

A deafening explosion shook the house. The front door burst inward as armed men in black suits stormed inside. “Federal agents! Nobody move!”

Two agents forced my father to the floor. He didn’t resist. Instead, he looked at me. “Remember who you are!”

One of the agents struck him across the face before another grabbed me from behind. I struggled as plastic restraints tightened around my wrists, but it was useless. They dragged me outside and shoved me into a black SUV.

An older man in a suit sat across from me. “I’m sorry you had to experience this, Albert.”

“My father told me everything!” I shouted. “Humans came from another planet. The Xaryth are real. He said I’m one of them!”

The men exchanged weary glances. Finally, one sighed. “Max has suffered from schizophrenia for years. That’s why he went on television claiming aliens were coming. He was a brilliant scientist. But he was also a very sick man.”

I shook my head. “No. I saw them. The gray creatures in my father’s basement.”

The men exchanged confused looks. “What creatures?”

“The ones floating inside the tanks.”

One of them smiled sympathetically. “There were no creatures, Albert. We searched the entire basement. It was only a laboratory.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came. Had I imagined everything?

The rest of the journey passed in silence. A week later, I was placed with a foster family.

Mr. and Mrs. Carter welcomed me like I was their own son. They celebrated my birthdays, helped with my homework, and actually cared about my day. Slowly, life began to feel normal. School became easier, the nightmares faded, and I convinced myself my father’s story had been nothing more than the delusions of a brilliant man who had lost his mind.

It was easier to believe that than the truth.

Years passed, but I never really changed. I remained shy, awkward, and desperate to please everyone around me. I tried college, hoping for a fresh start, but dropped out after struggling to fit in. Eventually, I found work at a small grocery store where customers treated me like I was invisible, my manager constantly reminded me how replaceable I was, and Matt, the night shift employee, never missed a chance to insult me.

I always kept quiet.

Then one morning, my phone rang. “Is this Albert?”

“Yes.”

“I’m calling from Blackwood State Penitentiary. I’m sorry to inform you that Max passed away last night.”

Although he had never truly been my father, he was the closest thing I’d ever had.

A few days later, I attended his funeral. The church was nearly empty. As I sat alone, an older man wearing a dark coat quietly placed a small metal box in my lap. “From Max.” Before I could question him, he walked away.

Back home, I placed the box on my table and stared at it for almost an hour before finally opening it. Inside wasn’t a letter or photograph. It was a small mass of black liquid. Except it wasn’t liquid. It was alive. The glossy substance pulsed gently.

Curious, I reached out. The instant my finger touched it, the black mass leaped onto my face and forced itself into my nose.

Agony exploded through my body. It felt like molten metal was racing through my veins while every bone and muscle tore itself apart. I crashed through my apartment, destroying furniture, smashing the television, and ripping pictures from the walls as I screamed in unbearable pain.

Then everything went dark. I couldn’t see. I crawled blindly across the broken floor until exhaustion consumed me.

…

I woke with a gasp. Sweat soaked my clothes. My apartment was silent. I grabbed my phone. June 3rd. I checked again. I had been unconscious for an entire week.

As I stood, something felt wrong. The ceiling looked lower. My clothes were too tight. I rushed into the bathroom. The skinny body I’d known my whole life was gone. My shoulders were broad, my muscles sharply defined, and I was noticeably taller. “What happened to me?”

I had no time to think. I was already a week late for work. I squeezed into my hoodie and hurried to the grocery store.

Matt laughed the moment he saw me. “Look who finally showed up.” He walked over, mocking me for disappearing without a word and calling me pathetic before shoving my shoulder.

Normally, I would’ve apologized. Instead, something inside me snapped. “Move away from the counter.”

Matt frowned. “Or what?”

Before I realized what I was doing, I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him onto his toes. “You heard me.” My voice was calm. Confident. There wasn’t even a trace of my old stutter.

I let him go, leaving us both staring at me in shock.

Before either of us spoke, the front door burst open. A masked robber rushed inside, aiming a pistol at us. “Empty the register!”

Matt immediately obeyed. I looked at the robber. “Leave.”

He laughed and pointed the gun at my head. Without thinking, I grabbed the barrel. He pulled the trigger. The bullet struck my forehead with nothing more than a dull sting before falling harmlessly onto the floor.

The robber stared at me in horror. I crushed the pistol in my hand, grabbed him by the jacket, and punched him. The impact launched him through the front window, sending glass across the street.

Silence filled the store. I stared at my trembling hands. What had I become?

Behind me, Matt looked terrified. “What… are you?”

Still in shock, I stepped through the shattered storefront. The robber groaned and somehow struggled back to his feet.

Then I noticed something strange. Traffic had stopped. Drivers and pedestrians stood in the middle of the road, staring upward. One after another, they pulled out their phones and began recording the sky.

Curiosity got the better of me.

Slowly… I looked up.