DARK FOREST BREEDING/MIND-BREAK ALIEN

The silence of the Dark Forest is broken by a moan.
On the Alpha-Omega mothership, Commander Vorlag—a male three meters tall, with scaly skin and two twin cocks hanging from him like sleeping snakes—listens to the signal he has just intercepted. He has spent a thousand years crossing the void without finding anyone. Until now.

—At last —he growls, and his voice booms through the command room—. A noisy civilization. So noisy it is almost pitiful.

On the screen, Earth's data: humans. Bipedal mammals. Primitive technology. And best of all: they constantly transmit. Radio, television, internet. They scream to the universe: here we are! Like a passive who lights a lighter in the middle of the night shouting “fuck me.”

Vorlag smiles. His two cocks harden.

—Prepare the penetration probe —he orders—. We are going to welcome them.

On Earth, in a laboratory lost somewhere in the Atacama Desert, Dr. Miguel Herrera adjusts his headphones. He has gone 48 hours without sleep. The signal pattern is clear. It is not cosmic noise. It is artificial. It is intelligent.

—My God —he whispers—. We are not alone.

On the other side of the world, at a military base in Siberia, alarms begin to sound. The object has crossed Jupiter’s orbit in six minutes. It does not slow down. It does not announce itself. It does not ask permission.

Hunters never warn.

The probe lands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, creating a fifteen-kilometer-high column of water that rises toward the sky. The impact generates tsunamis that sweep the coasts of Japan, California, and Chile within hours. But that is only the beginning.

From the probe emerges an organic structure, pulsing, alive. It expands at an impossible speed, devouring the ocean water, transforming it into a mass of black and shining flesh. Inside it, billions of spores await their moment.

Vorlag watches from his ship, already in Earth’s atmosphere. His fingers run over the glans of his left cock while the right one twists, eager.

—Prepare the landing —he says—. I am going down personally. I want to see the faces of these mammals when they understand what awaits them.

Dr. Herrera is in a military bunker in Nevada, alongside the few scientists and soldiers who survived. On the screens, the organic mass keeps growing. It has already covered 80% of the planet’s surface. And from it, creatures have begun to emerge.

—They are not robots —says Lieutenant Colonel Martínez, pointing at the images—. They are extensions. Like cells of a larger body. And they move with a purpose.

Herrera approaches the screen. The creatures are tall, humanoid, but with black, shining skin like the mass. They have vaguely human faces, but their mouths are larger than natural, and between their legs hang appendages that Herrera recognizes instantly.

—They are penises —he whispers—. They are equipped with penises....