During a nearly 24-hour shift, Leonardo diligently monitored the net and satellite communications for any activities that might raise concerns. Seated before the array of screens, his focus centered on the satellite sensors keeping a watchful eye on Earth's moon. These sensors detected blips that indicated movement toward Earth, providing crucial information to anticipate potential threats. Though unable to obtain visuals, the prevailing assumption was that these blips were merely small space debris, offering no immediate cause for concern.
Leonardo took his role seriously, finding purpose in contributing to a larger mission. He meticulously observed the readings, documenting anything noteworthy or as instructed. Essentially a glorified airspace traffic controller, he embraced the routine, content with the responsibility entrusted to him. Suddenly, a spike in the readings caught his attention—a third cylinder-like shape recorded within the week. He swiftly documented the satellite's estimation of its size: 7 feet long and 4 feet wide, adding an intrigued note to his log.
Amidst the hum of the machinery, an unexpected occurrence disrupted the routine. An old male voice, soft and soothing, reached Leonardo, seemingly not from his ears but resonating at the back of his head. "It's time to wake up," the voice gently declared. Leonardo, momentarily perplexed, responded, "I know. I am sorry. It's almost time." With that, he closed his eyes, only to find himself awakening in a run-down building, a stark contrast to the controlled environment of his monitoring station. The mysterious transition left him disoriented, questioning the reality of the scene before him.————————————————————————————————————————————————
A small light fixture hung on the ceiling. It was able to give some light, but it did not help the depressing atmosphere "Oh, that's right" He thought to himself. He sat at what looked like a dining table at the edge of a kitchen. It had a sink and stove with some counter space. It was a small unit for a small family or one person.
A small light fixture hung on the ceiling. It was able to give some light, but it did not help the depressing atmosphere "Oh, that's right" He thought to himself. He sat at what looked like a dining table at the edge of a kitchen. It had a sink and stove with some counter space. It was a small unit for a small family or one person.
Leonardo's helmet boasted a futuristic design, featuring a full-face mask seamlessly integrated with a hood that extended over the top of the helmet, creating a sleek, cohesive look. The dominant color was red, complemented by accents of black that adorned his armor. Positioned where his eyes were, a black T adorned the helmet, serving as both a functional and stylistic element.
YOU ARE READING
Chronicles of the Cosmic Covenant The chosen Vanguard
Science FictionLeonardo can't remember how he got here. All he knows is time. He has be enslaved to whatever empire this is for 50 plus years (he still looks like he is early 20s). He doesn't want to serve, but he laterally has no choice. They took free agency awa...