The late-night hush of the Lloyd ranch was peaceful in a way only the middle of nowhere could be. Crickets chirped, a breeze whispered through the fields, and the hum of cicadas droned on like a lullaby. Inside his room, lit only by a bedside lamp and the glow of his phone screen, seventeen-year-old Alex Lloyd lay sprawled on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other holding a beat-up sci-fi comic.
He flipped a page with lazy satisfaction, chuckling softly at the over-the-top villain monologue about vaporizing a planet in the name of "cosmic justice."
His golden retriever, Dexter, was curled up on the rug by the window, snoring gently, tail twitching in some dream chase. It was quiet as the blonde remain laying there, enjoying as the scenes within the comic continued to get more chaotic.
Then came the light.
It wasn’t the warm yellow of headlights or the flicker of a power surge. It was blinding white, brilliant and alien, pouring in through his bedroom window like someone had just cracked open heaven itself. Dexter bolted upright with a sharp bark, growling.
Alex sat up too quickly, the comic falling from his hands. "What the hell—?"
The light pulsed once—twice—then dimmed. A low hum vibrated through the floorboards. Dexter raced to the window, barking his head off now.
Alex’s heart thudded. He grabbed his flashlight and sneakers, slipping out the front door in seconds, Dexter charging ahead like a furry missile. They ran through the tall grass and into the cornfield behind the house, the flashlight bouncing wildly.
And then he saw it.
A massive silver gate—no, not silver, more like... reflective liquid metal, stood tall in the center of the field, humming softly, frost gathering at its base like it didn’t belong in this reality. Standing just in front of it, basking in the ethereal glow, was something tall. Humanoid, but wrong.
It was naked, hair long and green like moss, skin gray and smooth like polished stone. Its teeth were needle-sharp. Its eyes were a searing, gleaming red. And it was grinning.
Alex stood frozen, mouth open, unable to breathe, move, or even blink. Dexter growled low beside him, hackles raised.
The creature tilted its head, then raised one long-fingered hand.
Everything went black.
Alex gasped awake, sitting bolt upright on the field’s damp dirt. His head pounded like he’d pulled three all nighters, back-to-back. Dexter whined beside him, tail thumping nervously against the ground.
Then came the voice.
[System Installation Complete]
A golden screen blinked into view above his wrist—except, wait, there was something on his wrist now. A sleek black band with a faint amber glow. He hadn't been wearing anything before. His breath caught in his throat.
He tapped the screen.
[Hunter’s Information]
[System Owner: Alex Lloyd]
[Power Type: Blood Manipulation]
[Hunter Grade: Lower Third]
[HP: 130/130]
[MP: 125/125]
[XP: 0/40000]
[Grade 1 Skill Added: Crimson Healer]
Use your blood to heal others and yourself. Restores HP through direct consumption. Uses 5 MP and 10 HP per use. Painful. No cooldown.
[Grade 1 Skill Added: Blood Daggers]
Create hardened daggers made of your own blood. Attack duration: 10 seconds. Cooldown: 20 seconds. MP cost: 5.
[Grade 1 Skill Added: Blood Arrows]
Form a bow and arrows from blood to strike from a distance. Duration: 10 seconds. Cooldown: 20 seconds. MP cost: 5.
[Strength Enhanced by 14.3%]
[Speed Enhanced by 14.3%]
[Endurance Enhanced by 14.3%]
[These skills are only effective in disabling or killing a Lower Third Dweller]
[Tap Here To Open Menu Page]
“Okay…okay, okay… What the hell is happening right now,” Alex muttered, his voice shaking. He tapped to open the menu page. Inventory, dweller detector, map, and… an info page. He selected it.
[Welcome to your new life, Hunter.]
[I am the Dweller Lord, Athian, and you have been deemed worthy to play my game. You are one of five chosen in this region. Your first quest is simple: find the other four system holders. Do so, and your chances of survival increase exponentially.]
[You will be hunting creatures I call Dwellers. They range in seven grades: Lower Third, Lower Second, Lower First, Upper Third, Upper Second, Upper First, and Grand One. Each grade will upgrade your skills, and add one more.]
[These creatures are visible to all humans and will prey on them freely. Consider yourself humanity’s only line of defense. Cute, huh?]
[Now, as a benevolent god-like being, I’ll give you one year to defeat me, Athian. Fail, and I will unleash ultimate hell upon your planet. Kill every last Dweller and I’ll be very easy to find.]
[Have fun, little Hunter.]
[Bye-bye.]
The hologram faded.
Alex didn’t move for a long time. The wind rustled the corn stalks gently around him. The gate was gone. The creature was gone. The sky above was once again littered with stars.
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Dexter nudged his leg gently with his nose.
Alex took a deep, shaky breath. “Dex… we are so screwed.”
#####
Back in his room, Alex shut the door quietly behind him, careful not to wake his parents. The house was still dark, untouched by whatever madness had just occurred outside. Like the universe was pretending nothing had happened.
He dropped his flashlight on the floor and flopped face-down onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow for a moment before rolling onto his back. The amber glow of the wrist device blinked faintly in the dark, the holographic screen gone, but the weight of what he’d seen still pressing down on him.
His heart was still thumping in that weird, irregular rhythm that came from too much adrenaline and not enough answers.
“This can’t be real,” he whispered.
But it was. The gate. The creature. The system. The skills. He now had the power to stab people with his own blood. Who even comes up with that?
The mention of “five chosen” echoed in his mind. That was a quest. A literal, video-game-style quest. And it had landed squarely in his lap.
He sat up, rubbed his temples, then opened his laptop. It was old and loud, and he normally only used it for schoolwork, but tonight it had a new purpose: answers.
He typed in everything he could think of.
“Dweller Lord Athian”
“Alien system interface glowing wristband”
“Five chosen system holders”
“Cornfield alien portal”
Nothing. Not even conspiracy forums. Not even clickbait articles. No urban legends. No leaked videos. No Reddit threads. Nothing but generic sci-fi garbage and one guy’s blog about how aliens live in his toaster.
Alex leaned back in his chair, eyes stinging. He closed the laptop with a soft snap, then stared at the ceiling, the silence of the house stretching around him.
The game had already started.
#####
Alex woke up the next day to the faint, familiar sound of Dexter barking outside.
For one beautiful, stupid moment, he thought it had all been a dream. The alien. The gate. The glowing interface on his wrist. All of it. Just a vivid, late-night hallucination cooked up by too many energy drinks and an overactive imagination.
Then the watch buzzed lightly on his wrist.
He opened his eyes.
The holographic screen was gone, but the wrist device remained. Smooth, seamless black metal, fitted like it had always been there. It blinked once, soft amber light under the skin.
“Shit,” he muttered, groaning as he sat up and rubbed his face. “It wasn’t a dream.”
The world outside his bedroom window looked frustratingly normal. Sunlight painted long golden lines across the walls of his room, cutting through the small stack of comics on his desk. The cornfield swayed gently beyond the glass, untouched. No crater. No scorched earth. No gate.
No proof.
He got dressed in a daze. He wore baggy jeans, plain white tee under his red and black flannel. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, the strap tugging at the device on his wrist.
The damn thing was still there. Quiet. Waiting.
When he walked downstairs, the smell of scrambled eggs and toast hit him like a hug. His mom stood at the stove, flipping bacon with one hand and sipping coffee with the other. His dad, Rider Lloyd, was sitting at the table with the morning paper, still wearing his old denim jacket and grease-stained cap like he hadn’t aged since 1998.
“Morning, kid,” Rider said, looking up. “You sleep okay?”
Alex offered a noncommittal grunt and sat down. His mom slid a plate in front of him and kissed the top of his head.
Then Rider’s eyes narrowed. “What’s with the new watch?”
Alex froze.
The device blinked, once.
“Oh,” he said quickly, “uh—saved up. Pocket money. Figured it was time I got something smart, y’know?”
Rider raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You’re usually more of a ‘spend it all on snacks and guitar strings’ kinda guy.”
Alex gave a tight smile and shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
He didn’t need to be a psychic to know his dad still wasn’t buying it, but thankfully, Rider let it go. The table talk drifted back to normal things; weather, chores, Mom’s endless war against the neighbor’s loose chickens.
But Alex barely registered it.
His eyes kept drifting to the window. The field stood as serene as ever, golden and innocent in the morning sun. The place where a seven-foot-tall alien had grinned at him with rows of sharp teeth was now just… grass and corn.
By the time breakfast was over, Alex had barely eaten. He said goodbye, patted Dexter on the head, and headed out the door.
#####
The drive to school felt like someone else was doing the steering. His hands stayed on the wheel, his eyes on the road, but his brain was running full tilt.
What now? What does he do? What even is a hunter?
The watch was quiet all the way to campus. The lot wasn’t full yet, just the early birds and overachievers. Alex pulled into his usual spot and climbed out of the truck, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
School looked exactly the same. Brick and beige paint. Rusty lockers. Faint smell of stale cafeteria pizza in the breeze.
He walked the halls like a ghost, heading to his first-period classroom—history, with Mr. Kenner, who sounded like he smoked six packs before class everyday. No one looked at him twice.
He slipped into his seat by the window, dropped his bag beside him, and let his head rest against the cool glass. It was almost easy to believe things were normal again.
Ping.
The watch buzzed.
His eyes snapped to it.
Amber light glowed against his skin, and a faint holographic symbol shimmered above it, spinning like a compass.
Alex’s breath caught.
Another one.
He turned slowly, heart pounding in his chest. His gaze swept the room and landed on her.
She had long curly brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Her skin was a warm brown, and her eyes scanned the classroom like she was looking for something, too. When their eyes met, something clicked.
No words were exchanged. No nod. No gesture.
But Alex knew.
And from the flicker of recognition in her eyes—she knew too.
Another hunter.
