KelZamora
Every year, the Earth looked up to the sky in awe and dread as the massive, crystalline ship of the Xyrenians descended into orbit. To humanity, the alien species was a paradox: beautiful and terrifying, their semi-transparent forms shimmering like molten glass refracted through sunlight. They were an advanced civilization, peaceful but enigmatic, whose motives baffled even the sharpest human minds.
They claimed only one thing from Earth: volunteers. Or rather, raffle winners.
The Xyrenian Exchange Lottery was mandatory for anyone between the ages of 18 and 35. Every nation received a quota, and every winner was given a choice: board the Xyrenian ship for a one-year "cultural immersion" or forfeit all earthly privileges. Most reluctantly went. Few were excited. Fewer still returned unchanged.
This year, Harper Lane was one of them.