Apocalypse:Blade of the Kahrin

Khaled’s heart pounded violently, hammering against his chest as if it had a will of its own. Sweat beaded on his forehead, tracing paths down his temples, but he couldn’t stop the rhythm. Every beat thundered in his ears, a reminder of the life and fear that surged through him. He exhaled slowly, kneeling, and drew in a long breath, trying to steady himself. “Here we go,” he whispered. He lifted his gaze to Beth. Her eyes, a deep warm brown, held him in a way that made the world fade. Even in her uniform, she radiated a grace that made his chest ache. Her skin glowed softly in the dim light, a vision of beauty he had admired for years. But as he searched her expression, he saw annoyance, irritation, even disgust. Still, he had made up his mind. “Beth,” he began, voice steady despite the chaos in his veins, “I come before you today as a man who is ready to be with you for eternity. Will you marry me?” He opened a suede box, revealing a massive diamond ring. Beth’s face twisted from disgust to shock, her lips parting in disbelief. “Khaled,” she whispered, but it sounded more like a yell. Yet Khaled’s smile didn’t waver. To him, the answer was already written in his heart. Beth’s hands went to her forehead as she removed her cap, frustration evident. “Khaled, what the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, her voice thick with stress and disbelief. But Khaled remained calm, resolute. “I’m serious, Beth. I want to marry you. Let’s get married.” Her voice rose, whisper-yelling in panic. “You’re asking me to marry you when the world is about to end. Are you insane?” She stepped forward, lifting his body. Though Khaled’s muscles made him feel almost machine-like, Beth’s strength was formidable. He grunted, letting himself be set upright. “Ah, Beth,” he said softly, pleading: “just be with me this one time. Let’s be together on one page. Right now. Let’s just get married, right here. Just us two.” “Aliens are outside this tent!” she yelled, eyes wide. “They’re waiting for me, for our officials! And you—now, you choose this moment? You had time before!” Khaled ignored the chaos, wrapping her into a hug. Gentle kisses pressed to her forehead and cheeks. “Oh my baby, my baby,” he whispered. “Come on, just go along with it.” Beth sighed, the fire in her eyes softening. “What am I going to do with you?” she murmured. Khaled held her close, feeling the weight and warmth of her body against his. The moment felt unreal. Though they had been together for nearly three years, it had never felt like this. Though she was his commander, he had never respected or loved anyone as he loved her. And from the tension and lingering softness in her eyes, he knew it was the same for her. For a brief, suspended moment, the world outside ceased to matter. The aliens waited, officials moved, and chaos lurked just beyond the tent’s canvas walls—but inside, Khaled and Beth existed in a bubble of love, hope, and fragile certainty. It was the calm before the storm. A sharp voice cut through the moment. “Beth!” The call echoed into the tent, urgent and commanding. Beth pulled away from Khaled immediately. She closed her eyes for a second and sighed, the softness draining from her expression. “It’s time to get to work,” she said. Just like that, the woman in his arms disappeared. Commander Beth stepped forward, posture straight, jaw set, eyes hard with purpose. Khaled nodded once. He understood. This was the version of her the world needed now. She stepped out of the tent first. Khaled remained behind, forcing himself to breathe. His gaze dropped to the suede box still clutched in his hand. He pressed it briefly to his chest. “Why did it take me so long?” he whispered to himself. He slipped the ring into his pocket, sealing it away, then reached for the gun resting on the table. The weight of the weapon grounded him. Familiar. Necessary. Commando mode. He stepped outside. The sun slammed into his face, bright and unforgiving. Heat rolled over him, thick and alive. When his eyes adjusted, he saw them. The creatures. They stood beyond the perimeter, unmoving, watching. Tall. Wrong. Their silhouettes cut sharply against the green horizon. They were not in the middle of nowhere. This was the heart of the Earth. The lungs of the planet. The sss. Khaled joined his comrades along the perimeter, boots sinking slightly into the damp earth as they formed a tightening circle around the visitors. Rifles were raised, then lowered—trained discipline holding panic at bay. He took his place beside Martin, weapon angled down but ready, finger loose near the trigger. Beth moved forward. She wasn’t alone. The President of the world, stepped out beside her, flanked by Sergeant Dave. Dave was a legend. Highly decorated. Battle-hardened. A man who had stood on blood-soaked ground across continents and never once been accused of hesitation. Negotiations, territory disputes, ceasefires—Dave was the one governments trusted when the stakes were absolute. If it weren’t for his interest in politics, Khaled had heard it said more than once, the man could’ve been president of the world. The three of them approached the aliens without weapons, without guards. Martin scoffed quietly beside Khaled. “You really had to go and do that right now, huh?” Khaled didn’t respond. Martin was a good friend—loyal, sharp, and occasionally a hater when nerves got the best of him. Khaled never took it personally. His attention stayed fixed on Beth. The aliens waited. There were only three of them. No visible weapons. No escorts. No ships hovering overhead. Just three figures standing unnaturally still. Two were tall, their forms elongated and unfamiliar, bodies wrapped in dark material that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. The third one stood slightly apart. Smaller. Different. It wore a brown, hooded tunic that draped over its frame, the fabric looking almost ancient. Out of place. As if it belonged to another era entirely. Khaled’s grip tightened imperceptibly around his rifle. Something about the smaller alien was wrong. And whatever it was, Khaled had the sudden, chilling certainty that it was looking straight at him. Khaled kept studying the smaller alien. Why was it so small? The question gnawed at him, cold and insistent. It didn’t fit. None of this did. Then it happened. The smaller alien turned its head. Its gaze locked onto him. Khaled’s heart skipped a beat. Its eyes were dark and oversized, swallowing light. Its skin was a sickly, milky white, stretched tight over sharp features. Wisps of pale, almost horse‑like hair drifted across its forehead. It looked disturbingly human—if humanity had been stripped down to something diseased and unfinished. There was no nose. Just a round, black hole where one should have been. Its mouth was straight, stern, emotionless. Khaled’s blood ran cold. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Surely everyone else could too. But when he glanced around, no one reacted. No shouts. No raised weapons. No panic. When he looked back, the alien had turned away. It was focused on Beth now. Beth stood with Sergeant Dave and the President, engaged in what looked like negotiations—but the air between them was sour, heavy, wrong. Khaled couldn’t hear a word being said. “No,” Khaled muttered, leaning toward Martin. “Something’s wrong.” Martin didn’t move. His voice was tight. “Don’t. We’re not allowed to engage. You know that. We wait for the signal.” Khaled exhaled sharply, eyes never leaving Beth. Her face was composed, unreadable as Sergeant Dave spoke. Then— She glanced at Khaled. Just for a second. But her eyes told him everything. Fear. Regret. Finality. The realization hit him like a blade. We’re all going to die. “No!” Khaled screamed, breaking formation. Light erupted. Beth’s body disintegrated mid‑step—shattered into countless fragments, suspended in the air like dust caught in sunlight. The President vanished beside her. Sergeant Dave followed, erased so completely it was as if they had never existed at all. The perimeter collapsed. Soldiers scattered, panic overtaking discipline. Survival became the only thought. Khaled ran forward anyway. Beth was gone. Reduced to nothing. Whether he was running for love or revenge, he didn’t know. He only knew he had to reach her. Had to reach where she had been. The smaller alien was watching him again. It spoke. The sound wasn’t a language Khaled recognized, but it echoed inside his skull. Then his body froze. Mid‑step. Mid‑breath. Air vanished from his lungs. His muscles locked, refusing to obey. He fought, grunted, strained—but nothing moved. He was suspended, trapped between space and time. The smaller alien approached, murmuring softly. The last thing Khaled felt was weightlessness. Then everything went dark.