Outside, the neighborhood was too quiet.
No kids on bikes. No lawn mowers buzzing. No dogs barking at passing cars. Just the wind, brushing through tree branches like it, too, was trying to figure out what had just happened.
Kai walked down the sidewalk with his hands in his hoodie pockets, earbuds in but nothing playing. The sky was still blue. Birds still flew overhead. But the air had changed—subtle, like the moment before a thunderstorm.
He stopped at a street corner and glanced up at a digital billboard that normally showed ads for soda or local lawyers. Now, it flashed the same government warning:
"EMERGENCY UNIVERSAL ALERT: TOURNAMENT INITIATION CONFIRMEDSign-ups are now open to Earth's volunteers. Proceed to nearest registration center or access the global portal.This is not a drill.**"
Kai sighed through his nose. "They're not wasting time."
Down the street, a man screamed at his phone, pacing in frantic circles.
A few cars drove by too fast. One nearly clipped the curb. A woman sat frozen behind the wheel, hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel as her toddler cried in the back seat.
Panic was blooming—slowly but surely.
Kai passed by a convenience store. The door was wide open. Inside, people were already grabbing bottled water and canned food like they were prepping for the end. Maybe they were. He walked in casually, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and approached the counter.
The cashier didn't even look at him.
"You're really just… buying a drink?" she asked, eyes flicking toward the front window where two men argued over a bag of rice.
Kai pulled out a few crumpled bills. "Thirsty."
She took the money, paused, then asked, "You think we're gonna make it?"
Kai opened the can with a click. "Nope."
She blinked, stunned by the honesty.
"But I'm sure it'll be fun to watch," he added, taking a sip and walking out before she could ask anything else.
Back outside, people were starting to gather around phones, laptops, public screens—anything playing the latest government broadcasts. A projection lit up a building wall nearby, where a military general addressed the planet like it was a press conference after losing a war.
"We… we have no means of defense. The celestial entities made their power clear. Our nuclear arsenal, satellites, defense drones—none of it made a dent.What we're facing… is something we cannot win with strength. We must rely on the few individuals willing to fight in our name.If you are skilled… courageous… reckless—we ask you to consider volunteering."
"Yeah," Kai muttered under his breath. "Let's see how long the bravado lasts."
A group of teens nearby were laughing nervously, one of them livestreaming the whole scene. "Yo, bro, what if I sign up and get like, crazy space powers or something?" he joked, putting on a heroic pose.
"Yeah, right," another said. "You'll get vaporized first round."
Kai kept walking.
At the edge of town, past the schoolyard and the empty parking lot, he climbed a small hill that overlooked the city. He sat down on the grass, can of soda in hand, and watched the chaos unfold from a distance.
He liked it up here. Quiet. Removed.
The sky had shifted just slightly now. If you looked hard enough, you could see something unnatural—massive floating structures far off in the distance, barely visible like ghostly mountains. They hadn't been there yesterday. The Celestials were settling in.
He leaned back, staring up at the clouds as they passed.
"Should've picked a quieter universe," he said to himself.
A notification buzzed on his phone.
[GLOBAL TOURNAMENT NETWORK - NOW LIVE]Welcome, Earthling. Tap here to explore volunteer stats, rules, and other contestants across the cosmos.
Kai closed it without reading a single word.
He didn't care.
Not yet.
But the image of his mom's face from earlier lingered in his head longer than he expected. The way her voice trembled. The way she clutched her coffee like it could stop the world from falling apart.
He hadn't planned on doing anything.
Not getting involved.
Not revealing himself.
He was supposed to be hidden. A whisper. A myth long faded.
But Earth… Earth had been interesting. The people. The messiness. The way they loved even when they were hopeless. That was new.
He took another sip of his soda and closed his eyes as the wind carried sirens from the city far below.
"Welp," he muttered with a sigh, "still not my problem."
He lay back on the grass as the stars slowly started to appear, one by one—some of them not stars at all, but watchers.