?? Scene 1: The Clone’s Deception

  Dr. Hayes marched briskly toward the conference room, his face stern with resolve. He knew the government wouldn’t help, but if he revealed the truth to the public, they might pressure the authorities into action.

  Just as he turned a corner, he felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. Before he could react, a masked man delivered a brutal punch to his jaw, sending him crashing to the cold, tiled floor.

  “Ugh… W-who—” Hayes groaned, but his vision was already blurring.

  The masked man crouched over him and placed a clay-like substance against his own face. The material shimmered unnaturally, morphing and shifting until the masked man’s features became identical to Dr. Hayes.

  “Thank you for informing us, Clarie,” the man said, turning to the young researcher who stood a few feet away, her hands trembling slightly.

  The young woman with sharp eyes and auburn hair glanced around nervously before the man handed her a check for $10 million.

  “Anything for you, sir,” Clarie said smoothly as she pocketed the check, the guilt barely visible behind her calm exterior.

  The masked man-turned-clone adjusted his tie, mimicking Dr. Hayes’ voice perfectly. Without hesitation, he entered the conference room.

  Inside, dozens of top scientists, journalists, and experts sat waiting with bated breath. As the clone stepped onto the stage, he feigned a solemn expression.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I must apologize for the false alarm. The recent radar signals were indeed caused by a cluster of asteroids passing by Earth’s orbit,” he said confidently.

  Murmurs of relief filled the room. Some reporters nodded to each other, already preparing headlines debunking the ‘alien conspiracy’.

  “There is no cause for panic. Our technology is advanced enough to monitor and neutralize any such threats,” the clone added with a reassuring smile, effectively discrediting the real Dr. Hayes’ discovery.

  ---

  ?? Scene 2: Westbridge College – The Sibling's Plan

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Karl and Lyra walked casually along the lush campus grounds of Westbridge College, blending in with the crowd of students. The sun hung low, casting a warm orange glow over the stone buildings.

  Karl let out an exaggerated yawn.

  “Ugh. Why are we even here, sister? This planet’s technology is laughable. They’re teaching stuff we mastered 500 years ago!” he complained, tossing a pebble across the lawn.

  Lyra’s silver eyes narrowed.

  “Stop whining. There’s someone here who knows about the Seven Stones.”

  Karl’s eyes widened slightly.

  “Huh? Who?”

  A sly smile crept across Lyra’s face.

  “Professor Alan Morris.”

  Karl arched a brow.

  “So… we’re gonna kidnap him or what?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

  Lyra rolled her eyes.

  “Idiot. That would cause too much trouble. We need to be smart about this. We’ll enroll as students. Get close to him. Gain his trust. Then, when the moment is right…” she trailed off with a devilish smirk.

  Karl let out a dramatic sigh.

  “Ugh. You’re such a strategist.”

  The siblings walked into the principal’s office, where a gray-haired man in his 60s sat behind a large wooden desk. Before he could even ask why they were there, Lyra’s fingers subtly twitched, releasing a faint pulse of hypnotic energy.

  The principal’s eyes glazed over, his expression turning vacant.

  “We’d like to enroll as students,” Lyra said smoothly.

  “Of course,” the principal replied in a monotone voice, his hands mechanically reaching for the necessary forms.

  Without asking for identification or documentation, he handed them their enrollment papers.

  The principal, still under the spell, personally escorted Karl and Lyra to Professor Alan’s classroom.

  “Professor Morris, we have two new students joining your class,” the principal announced blankly.

  Professor Alan, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and sharp green eyes, turned toward the siblings. His eyes narrowed slightly. Something felt off. It was midyear, and the college never accepted students this late.

  Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and offered them a polite nod.

  “Welcome. Take your seats.”

  Karl and Lyra exchanged brief glances, smirking subtly as they blended into the classroom, observing their target carefully.

  ---

  ?? Scene 3: The Elite's Gathering

  In a luxurious, dimly lit meeting room, a group of powerful elites sat around an obsidian table. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and tension.

  At the head of the table, a man in a perfectly tailored black suit tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table. His eyes were cold and calculating.

  The door opened, and the masked man who had replaced Dr. Hayes walked in, bowing respectfully.

  “Mission accomplished, sir.”

  The man in the suit’s eyes narrowed.

  “Good. You should have been more careful, though. If it weren’t for Clarie, that fool Hayes would have exposed everything.”

  The man turned toward President Warren, who sat quietly, his face pale and drenched in sweat. The leader of the free world was trembling slightly, knowing he was no longer in control.

  “You should have been smarter, President,” the man in the suit sneered.

  “Luckily, Clarie saved us from your incompetence.”

  The president opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it, knowing better than to anger the man in the suit.

  The man in the suit turned toward the group of elites seated around the table, his eyes burning with authority.

  “Now, create diversions around the world. Distract the public. Use elections, celebrity scandals, media drama—I don’t care how. Just keep them focused on trivial nonsense. Keep them from ever realizing the truth.”

  The world’s richest man, a tech genius with a sharp jawline, slicked-back hair, and a mischievous grin, leaned forward.

  “So… the aliens are back, huh?” he asked with a slight smirk.

  The man in the suit nodded coldly.

  “Yes. We dealt with a different civilization around 300 years ago. We kept the public distracted with wars and revolutions back then.”

  The tech mogul chuckled.

  “Ah yes… French Revolution, colonization… clever cover-ups.”

  Another elite, a powerful oil tycoon, spoke up.

  “But things are different now. We can’t just plunge the world into chaos again. The global economy would collapse.”

  The man in the suit’s eyes darkened.

  “That’s why we use social media. The toys we gave the public—the platforms they depend on. Flood it with useless trends, fake controversies, and clickbait. They’ll be too busy arguing online to see the truth.”

  He slammed his hand on the table.

  “Use the puppets—the influencers, the actors, the billionaires. Make them fight in public if you have to. I don’t care. Just keep humanity blind.”

  The elites nodded in unison. The game had begun.

  ---