While Liam slept in calm silence at Bellere Mansion, the rest of the world was wide awake.
Across every ti zone, screens glowed in dark rooms and crowded living spaces. Millions of viewers, gars, analysts, and curious strangers were waiting for the sa thing — Lucid.
The global gaming community had never seen hype like this. Forty of the biggest strears on the planet had each announced they would be livestreaming the mont they received their Lucid delivery — unboxing it live, setting it up live, and testing it live.
And this ti, they weren’t the only ones watching. Governnts were.
Every major intelligence agency had placed the event under quiet surveillance. NSA, MI6, Mossad, GCHQ, MSS, DGSE, and several unnad corporate labs had all mobilized. Hidden satellites were re-tasked to low orbit. Private defense firms had scrambled atmospheric sensors and thermal scanners.
They all wanted the sa answer: how did Nova Technologies deliver these devices?
The tech reviewers who got Lucid units earlier in the week had reported one impossible detail — they didn’t see anything. No trucks, no drones, no couriers. One mont, their front doors were empty. The next, a package sat there, perfectly sealed.
That was enough to set off global alarm bells.
***
Inside a secure CIA observation room, a tired analyst stared at the wall of screens showing feeds from around the world — each one tracking a different strear’s ho.
"Any movent?" a voice asked from behind.
"None yet, sir," the analyst said. "Still nothing on infrared or radar. No air signatures, no thermal trace. We are currently monitoring the five mile radius around the forty strears."
"Keep watching. We have to catch this one."
The sa scene played out across every major capital. In London, a GCHQ operator leaned forward, adjusting the image contrast. In Beijing, satellite controllers recalibrated their scopes. In Washington, Langley, and Tel Aviv, operators sipped cold coffee and watched empty skies.
***
Clocks ticked as ti passed, and it was already an hour past the expected delivery window — the sa ti the tech reviewers had received theirs. Yet, nothing had arrived.
The gar strears had all gone live, their caras rolling, their chats exploding with anticipation. The world was watching with obsessive focus — millions of viewers glued to screens, unwilling to miss even a passing shadow.
An hour passed. Then two. Then three.
By then, frustration and doubt had begun to creep in. Many started to believe the deliveries wouldn’t happen — that Nova Technologies had backed down after being threatened by governnts and major corporations once they were tracked.
The general assumption was simple: Nova Technologies had intended to deliver the devices as discreetly as before, like they did with the tech reviewers. But with forty strears broadcasting live to millions, secrecy was now impossible.
Still, no one stopped watching. In fact, the viewership only grew — the numbers climbing higher by the second, as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for sothing to happen.
***
At 2:47 a.m. Pacific Ti, Phil Aiken, was live.
His chat box was exploding with ssages — thousands of people typing faster than the feed could display. The words scrolled like an endless waterfall.
"Still nothing??"
"Bro we’ve been here 3 hours!"
"Maybe they backed out!"
"CIA watching this right now lol"
Phil leaned back in his gaming chair, frustration written across his face. He wasn’t angry — just anxious. He’d been live for over three hours with nothing to show but speculation.
"This can’t be fake," he muttered to himself. "The email was verified, the code was real. It ca through an encrypted channel. No spam company can fake that."
His fans spamd emotes of tinfoil hats and UFOs, but Phil ignored them. He believed it. The tech reviewers had gotten theirs. There was no reason Nova Technologies would ghost him now.
***
Back in Los Angeles, at the NSA’s temporary operations desk, one of the atmospheric monitors started to blink.
"Wait... we’ve got movent," an operator said suddenly. "Sector Delta, low altitude, fifteen objects inbound."
Heads snapped up, as dozens of analysts rushed to their stations.
"Visual feed!"
"Thermal scan, now!"
"Range?"
"Five miles and closing!"
***
Across the ocean in France, the DGSE director leaned forward as her staff pulled up satellite imagery.
"What are those?" she whispered. "Birds?"
"Negative," her aide said. "No biological heat signatures. They’re... cold."
"Cold?"
"Yes, ma’am. Cold. No heat, no propulsion exhaust, nothing."
***
Ten minutes later, the objects descended into multiple cities around the world — Los Angeles, Seoul, Berlin, London, São Paulo, Toronto, Sydney. Each one hod in on a different address — forty in total.
The closer they got, the clearer the footage beca. The drones were smooth, seamless, with a faint tallic sheen that rippled like water. There were no propellers, no exhaust vents or visible engines.
***
Phil had gone quiet. He was still staring at the screen of his phone, which was now flashing with ssages.
He didn’t even have to open them. The notification on top told him everything.
"Delivery confird. Package at your door."
His heart jumped. He turned to his audience, eyes wide.
"Guys... I just got the email."
The chat erupted like fireworks.
"NO WAY!!!"
"OPEN IT NOW!"
"GO GO GO!!!"
Phil grabbed his phone and sprinted for the front door. The cara swayed as he ran down the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the tile. His audience — millions now — watched the shaky view of his hand reaching for the handle.
He yanked the door open — and froze.
Hovering less than a ter away was a smooth, silver object about the size of a dium travel suitcase.
Its surface was seamless, tallic, and faintly reflective, traced by soft blue light along its curved edges and it floated effortlessly in the air, perfectly still, as if gravity had simply decided it didn’t apply to it.
Phil blinked, as his mouth went dry.
"Are you guys seeing this?" he whispered.
His chat exploded.
"YES!!!"
"HOLY SH*T WHAT IS THAT??"
"IT’S REAL!!!"
The hovering object slowly tilted, aligning itself directly in front of him. Then, with a soft hiss, the curved arc where the word LUCID was etched began to slide open inwardly, splitting along a seamless line that glowed faint blue.
The motion was smooth. As the panel retracted into the body, a compartnt revealed itself within, lined with a soft black interior. Nestled perfectly inside was a single Lucid package
The drone paused for two seconds, as if waiting.
Phil reached forward, trembling slightly, and lifted the package from its cradle. The mont he took it out, the drone sealed itself shut and retracted backward. Then it rose — straight up, accelerating faster, disappearing into the clouds within seconds.
Phil and his viewers were left in stunned silence.
***
For the intelligence agencies watching, that silence was horror.
Radar feeds across the world lit up briefly, then went blank again. No sonic booms. No propulsion trails. No heat signatures. The drones had vanished just as cleanly as they’d appeared.
At the NSA command center, one officer asked the question everyone was asking themselves.
"What the hell was that?!" he said.
***
Back on Phil’s stream, the comnt feed had beco unreadable. Tens of millions of viewers from every corner of the globe were flooding in.
Phil slowly turned the Lucid box toward the cara. It looked exactly like the one the tech reviewers had shown — sa matte finish, sa seal, sa golden logo. But this ti, the entire world had watched it appear from nowhere.
"Ladies and gentlen. It’s real," he said softly, voice trembling with disbelief as he swallowed hard.
He set the box gently on the table and ran a hand over it.
"I... I think we just witnessed history."
The chat went wild.
"THIS IS INSANE!!!"
"NO WAY THIS IS HUMAN TECH!!"
"NOVA TECH JUST CHANGED EVERYTHING."
"SOONE CALL NASA."
Within minutes, clips of the delivery began to spread across every platform. The world’s news anchors were already scrambling to broadcast ergency coverage.
In every governnt and corporate boardroom, the sa question repeated:
Who is Nova Technologies, and what have they just done?
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