Author's note: Ok so, this and the next chapter should've been a whole ass part actually, but it, indeed hit 20k+ so I had to split it in two parts. Anyway, enjoy!

.

Give me your words, I won't ever blink,
Right between the eyes I won't feel a thing,
Because you haven't told me anything,
That I didn't already know...

You Haven't Told Me Anything – Keane

.

*zip*

*thud!*

*sigh*

Another body of another invader fell lifeless onto the ground from the tallest building of the city as the remaining obstacle on his way to the epicentre of the catastrophe where this strong, chaotic presence resonated across and upon his beloved planet; he sighed softly as he lowered his hand that had a thumb, index and middle finger open in the shape of a gun, and his shoulders relaxed now that the area was clear from more soldiers, allowing a brief break before reaching the bigger scene – yet the rest of his body remained quite tense. Some sweat drops slowly fell down his temples as he sat down upon some debris for at least a couple of minutes to recover enough from the thrills of the incoming battle, taking out a cereal bar from a pocket to reload.

At that point his loved ones evacuated the planet successfully, hopefully with their tracks hidden (their ship needed some maintenance, he prayed for his friend's safety) to avoid any inconvenient with more enemy ships, confrontations in outer space could have some catastrophic results, especially if they decided to attack the spacecraft with the civilians. On the bright side, most of the army left on their respective vehicles which meant a defensive line in case of emergency and also a backup for the defence turrets. In the meantime for them, everything left to do was hide and protect everybody until the perpetrator of such heinous acts was defeated... or killed.

He swallowed hard with a sour, dry taste down his throat with the last thought as a soft yet dreadful breeze filtering among the shattered windows that smelled like evil and despair made his cape hover to a side for a few seconds before it stopped. Munching another bite his eyes lifted to the aquamarine skies covered in red and deep shades of grey as sorrow filled his heart. As much as he wanted to join his crewmates, he had a bigger role to accomplish as the new Supreme Major of the Solarian Army, but even with so, his loyalty to his friends was bigger than anything in the entire universe.

But this time, everything he knew was in danger and he had to assume his new responsibility.

Still, why did he feel so bitter and guilty about his decision to stay? Everything he did was act like a responsible adult with a burden upon shoulders exercising the humongous role of the Major and a soldier that vowed to protect his beloved planet and all its inhabitants at the cost of his life... and still his heart ached badly with the images of Blue banging the window of the ship repeatedly, screaming out his name over and over again – even if he didn't hear it, he saw the words coming out from his lips and his brain filled the gaps, echoing throughout every corner of his mind.

That last bit of his food was hard to swallow as guilt crawled up on his neck with a cold sensation: yes, now he was the Major and everybody's sake was in his hands, but what was the point if he left his friends behind? He couldn't help but feel that he betrayed them, somehow, and still he hoped they would understand... or maybe they just wouldn't.

More than being the new leader of an impressively big army (maybe the biggest in their corner of the galaxy), he was still the leader of that tiny group he shared with another four idiots that more than being friends, were his brothers. Indeed, he should've left with them as the family they became since the very first day of the academy and got assigned to the same group, yet now it was too late to regret from his choice: Mæx (the previous leader) was about to kick the bucket against this monstrous being that personally decided to destroy everything, and once his former superior was defeated, that would allow the invaders to give hunt to everybody else – which was something he couldn't let happen.

So, everything left to do was either prevent or delay as much as possible the extinction of his race no matter the cost, by buying more time to all his peers to flee as far as possible.

Then, his mind already reached a resolution as he stood up with a sudden rush of determination overcoming all the doubts, another breeze arose his cape knowing something now undeniable: his life didn't matter as much as the lives of all the others, as long as he could fight and widen the thin gap – if not defeat or at least damage enough the root of the evil upon his home.

Yes, Mæx would be mad to see he stayed, just like his friends; the army would need to vote (most likely) for a new leader unless one of the tricks of his pocket managed to work in the way he needed to help his former superior to survive (hopefully, Green's prototypes for a funny gadget would work).

He looked up armed now with determination, the sun peeked within the fire and ashes as the rays of light reflected upon his eyes, feeling the tension raise in the air while the rest of the building started to crumble down.

Flexing his legs he leaped out of the building as it fell down, his cape opened and free-fell, then an aura surrounded his entire body, to then fly to the sun in direction of the current battleground...

Then quick flashes passed in front of his eyes...

And finally, Phil woke up panting heavily.

Cold sweat dripped down his temples as his hands clutched the bedsheets, shaking slightly at the dreams – or foreign memories from the unknown, invaded his thoughts once again. He jumped slightly when he felt Lara place a hand upon his, caressing the back with her thumb to reassure and calm him down. "Sorry love, I didn't mean to wake you up..." He mumbled low enough to be heard. Another hand caressed his face in the darkness to sooth his feelings, then it went on his hair, caressing slowly and smoothly.

"It's alright Philly, it was just a bad dream..." She spoke softly, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Don't worry, I'm alright..." He smiled a bit, "It was just a dream anyway..." Even though the darkness was more prominent than the dim light of the outside, he knew she smiled with all of the love of the world. Her hand went back down to his cheek, "I'm okay..." She playfully booped his nose, he chuckled softly.

"Ich liebe dich Philly..." She said again, "Und gute Natch, I'll protect your dreams..." They didn't need light to see each other smile, cuddling together in their bed to sleep.

Thing was, only Lara managed to sleep again while Phil's mind started to run in circles again with the puzzle that his dreams were, which now apparently were related to the stranded aliens and whatever the invaders wanted from them (him?). Naturally he had so many questions, too many to be fair; clearly one obvious thing was that in the vast universe of theirs there had to be to be actual intelligent life far, far away from their tiny little planet, with their own cultures, languages, shapes and sizes. Those unbelievable things they could only see around media and that only lived in their minds, the simple-shaped minds of the human race that still had a long way to go before reaching its full potential (before its mere stupidity could devastate the entire planet and all living beings).

Then, out of plain nowhere everything they knew, everything he knew was turned upside down with those invaders trying to murder him, the allies showing up and his childhood friend – Chris, knew how to speak their language.

That was another point he couldn't ignore: Chris had the knowledge to be a bridge between them and the other parts, and maybe even a key to understand better the situation they inadvertently got in; maybe he could help to talk to the allies and find out of his dreams were related to their arrival as, in overall, those scattered pieces of memories (?) started around the same date as they crash-landed in the planet.

Thinking about it, it was too much of a coincidence. A big fat coincidence. Think that they could play a big role in a near future was pretty scary, so his mind went back to Chris.

Things quickly became even more confusing, did his friend lie about himself? Was he an alien too? He had no other hypothesis than believe that his childhood friend was indeed an alien as well, or else, why and how else would he know how to communicate in a fully foreign language? Their language? Yes, people said you never get to really know somebody as a whole and this time it was quite clear he didn't know about him, so his mind split two possibilities.

One: If he was a real alien (or a descendant from any of his parents, which was a probability too as his second language) it would make sense he said nothing before due the obvious fact it sounded as nothing pure madness, to the point they wouldn't simply believe him at all.

Two: Somehow he made contact with alien life. "How" was the question, with the "when" and "where". Only Chris knew about life outside the planet and now it was uncertain if he would trust to tell his secrets after how Will faced him before (yet he didn't blame his reaction, who wouldn't be terrified those secrets?) so, who knew how long it would take for him to open up before something worse happened! Not even he, Phil, his lifetime best friend knew about it ― seriously, the frontman needed to give answers to solve some of the puzzles to have an idea of at least some parts of the events they got caught in...

"A crossfire..."

A war far away from their beloved blue planet unleashed and extended its boundaries to the territories of their homeworld, a bunch of (maybe he was wrong) space pirates hunting down the stranded group of refugees and threatening to destroy everything in their way for revenge... they wanted revenge on them, then, they wanted his head on a silver plate, mistaken by a disappeared look-alike.

That's what he managed to understand from the whole incident at least.

Wandering in thoughts for another hour his mind finally hit the dream realm without his realization; instead of getting attacked by the foreign memories rooted like a virus in his brain again, he woke up in the middle of a grassland under a walnut tree, the starry night and a giant full moon. It was quiet, with a soft, warm breeze rooking the branches with a pleasant sound while it caressed his skin lightly.

"Perfect..."

Long enough passed without changes or unexpected twists, which meant he was having enough sleep underneath the tree — at least until the sound of footstep to his direction. Turning his head around, he met a couple of beige shoed feet with pointy ends, raising his view the person used a very old-fashioned Arabic-like baggy white trousers with purple folds, to then become blurry under a shiny moonlight. By a few strings of a long, silver colour dangling on the air, he could tell the figure in front of him was a woman, and before he could take a better look of the silhouette to understand the strange presence in front of him that seemed apart of the foreign memories, he woke up surrounded by childish giggles.

"Aw, Chris!" It was Emilia who exclaimed next to him, "You woke papa up!"

"What?! No!" The boy exclaimed, "She did it! Not me!" He pointed at his older sister while the parents laughed in response.

"Kids, go to wash your faces and brush your teeth, then we'll go for breakfast, alright?" Their dad said in a fatherly tone, bopping their nose with a smile.

Both children nodded and went to prepare their stuff, Lara then kissed her husband's cheek with a smile, he returned it on her lips with tenderness and love.

"Morning Philly." She smiled, "How did you sleep? Do you feel better now?" He nodded and got closer, having a kiss on his forehead, "Don't you need anything?" He shook his head slightly.

"Maybe just five more minutes if that's not a problem..." They both chuckled, "Or is it there?"

"Well, as long as Emi and Chris don't..."

As soon as she was elaborating the sentence they heard quick steps to the bathroom and the door slammed, followed by the annoyed complain of their older child. "Kids!" The parents exclaimed getting out of bed; fifteen minutes later they went down for their breakfast, each one with their own meals, and by the fact he saw none of his friends during their time in the restaurant deduced that everyone was busy with their activities. Not a bad thing, it wasn't a requirement to do all together...

Then wondered about Chris, how he felt now with the aftermaths or if he would trust enough to explain himself at him —I know you can feel scared to talk, but you still can always talk to me when you need it...— to pour all his thoughts and give some parts of the puzzle.

Other than that everyone's activities were diverse with their respective families during that first day post-attack, good enough thanks to the allies (a form to call the bunch of masked aliens) who drove the ugliest parts of the fight away from the city, several points of interest remained nearly intact, although others for caution were closed for a few days to ensure safety of the visitors. Up to that point there were no calls about Dave about the attack (maybe wording the event without sounding extremely unlikely or straight up mental was being really hard for the media) nor wanted to log on Twitter, knowing there were probably videos of the attack — well he hoped the fans still didn't find out and were talking about Jonny Goes Jazz Again, even making memes because, why not?

Anyway.

About dinnertime most of them coincided at the restaurant of the hotel. Most of them because the only missing person there was no one but Martin himself to Harvey's concern, who asked about him to Apple and Moses once they appeared with Gwyneth.

"He went to his room," The woman replied, "He said he wanted a shower first, but I think he'll get to eat there." Darn it. "You know where to find him later."

"Thanks..."

Right, of course he was avoiding them.

Pushing asides the initial annoyance regarding his childhood friend, he went back to his family, have a nice meal and distract his mind about the missing frontman and his behaviour regarding the whole event. He maybe would go to see him later to check if he was alright, with some luck maybe also have a little talk; maybe even ask about a sleeping pill and see if that could help to keep the lucid dreams at bay until the effects wore off. That'd give him enough sleep for a night.

Two tables in diagonal to his left near a corner, there was Will checking the entrance every now and then checking Chris crossing the doors — if that happened, of course. Some of his corporal expressions showed he was quite anxious, he wanted to apologize his friend —I hope you're actually wanting to apologize for scaring the hell out of him— yet as much as he seemed to have hopes, the blond frontman didn't appear. Will's shoulders fell down defeated once it was time to leave back to their room. Marianne caressed his arm softly and gave a patient smile, kissed his cheek and left.

Once done with their food and returning to their room, Phil went to check on his childhood friend hoping for a response, maybe cross a few words and luckily enough release all the thoughts both had. When he reached the door of his room he signed deeply with is heart racing anxiously with the possibilities that things could easily go wrong; when he raised his fist to knock he paid some attention to some sound inside, then realize he was... talking... alone...?

"I'm quite better now..." He heard at first, "Yeah, kinda..." A pause, "I don't really know... it's been only a day since the attack and I doubt they're ready to hear more..." Another pause, "I know I can't keep hiding it from them but..." Again, another pause, "I know, I just don't have the answers they might want, and explain about the astral plane, Coloratura... they'll think I've finally lost my mind!" Well, the fact he was having a two-side talk alone in fact made him sound delusional.

"Well..." The co-manager mumbled to say.

"I understand you want to help and I really appreciate the concern, but regardless of the events, seeing an even of such magnitude doesn't mean they'll accept or even understand what I know — fuck! Not even I can believe it and I know you!" Phil widened his eyes in surprise, Chris sighed on the other side. "It's easy for you because you were born with the knowledge of a whole bunch of civilizations outside your planet, across the stars, universe and even space-time! Even after— you know..." He trailed off to take a pause and sigh deeply, "But that's not their case bud, nor mine..." One more time, a pause. While you already knew, for us humans is still only a theory that so many people won't accept for whatever reason. I want to tell them, but I don't know how..."

The wave of new information shouted out loud that Chris indeed knew something at the same time his theory about the alien origin was discarded, now knowing that his childhood friend did have some contact with superior life forms. Of course it brought even more questions: when did he establish contact? How did that happen? Where and what was Coloratura? And most importantly: who was this mysterious being?

Clearly he was having a discussion with them — somehow, he could hear Chris talk alone for an extra minute before he went silent and sighed deeply. Now he felt a bit guilty for letting his curiosity hear what was meant to be a private conversation, and maybe it would be the best if he left them be for a while, hoping to find a way to talk to him the next day once he felt a bit better, maybe more relaxed...

Yeah, that's what he'd do.

Sighing in a low voice he silently took two steps back and decided to head back to his room massaging his temples overwhelmed by the whole outburst of information and the questions eating up his inside; things he tried to shove away before a new headache appeared, to then hear a door open. "Oh, hey Phil."

He stopped and turned around, seeing Chris stepping out of his room with some bags under his eyes and a slight, awkward smile.

"Hello Chris..." He replied, turning around, "How you doing?"

"Same question about you." Said his blond friend with a slight shrug, "I'm alright, as much as you can be after an alien attack." The last sentence was filled with mild humour, "And you?"

"We're two..." He went silent for a moment, unsure about what to say that didn't regard his questions, knowing he was also under pressure. "I mean, yeah... I'm as fine as you can be after nearly be murdered by bloody aliens!" He chuckled a bit, humour was a good way to not overwhelm his mind again, "But yes, it's all right." His friend also chuckled a bit, "Also, do you have sleeping pills? You might know already why."

The frontman signalled him with his head to go to the room, his childhood friend followed from behind with the constant feeling that he was the first person Chris had interacted with in the entire day, and it wouldn't be a surprise if he keeps trying to avoid questions. The awareness of his talk about the burden of being a nexus between them and the many events happening in the unknown was hard; as much as he wanted to know more, would that be the right thing?

By one side, he would know he still had support from at least one person at the same time the addressing could trigger a self-defence reaction as a sensitive — even personal matter.

Once in the room the ambient felt different, not bad, only different. It lacked his characteristic charm and energy, being quite an oddity from someone as goofy as Chris, who looked out for his jar of sleeping pills in the drawers among his clothes without attempting to set a chat of any sort, lacking of a topic to talk about; on the other hand, the ambient, wasn't tense to saw that talking was necessary so... he was glad he wasn't being pushed away — he turned around with the feeling of somebody else standing behind. Weird... he thought, still trying to catch something, the slightest kind of movement that wasn't the frontman.

"What's the matter Phil?" He turned around at his friend, who had the jar in a hand, "Is there anything wrong?"

"Oh, no, don't worry." He replied, "It must be just my imagination. I mean, who else would be here in this room if only both of us are here present?" He noticed a hint of surprise in his eyes, something he tried to hide.

"You're right, unless there is a spectre wandering!" The frontman did a menacing yet corny gesture that made his friend laugh, "I mean, this place could be haunted and we have little to no clue about that!" Phil couldn't really help but laugh, for a moment forgetting all the problems, "Who knows, though. Maybe it is... or maybe it's not."

"Maybe there is a friendly ghost called Casper?" Phil said, laughing a bit, "Who's trying to save us from evil spectres?" It was nice to hear him laugh, so it was good to fool around together to wear off a bit of the problems, "That would be less surprising though."

Chris served a glass of water with chuckles, giving it to his childhood friend with the pill, who took both things to swallow; then they sat at the verge of the bed together in a brief silence, now with the mood lifted up.

"So, how's been the dreams?" Phil turned at him, "I mean, have they been that intense or...?

"It's been alright, bearable at first until it flash-forwards, that's when it becomes a whole damn mess to handle..." He took a brief pause, "Everything goes too fast before I wake up, and when I do, there you have me unsettled and confused as hell." Once again another pause, "Then it becomes a fair challenge to go back to sleep knowing it'll happen again as soon as I start to dream..." One more pause, "I think I have a grasp of why those aliens who saved us are here, but I haven't reached the end of the story yet..."

For a brief moment there was silence.

"Knowing you've had those dreams since their arrival makes me think that somehow, it could be a warning of what's out there..."

Phil turned at Chris, quite surprised to hear him talk about that affair — at least part of it, the thing that bothered him the most at nights.

"Do you have an idea of why is it happening?"

Sort of." He replied, biting his cheeks with a pause, "It's quite hard to explain and I... have some problems to word this right, but to try to be simplistic enough, I think you're sensitive enough to resonate with others."

Wording the concept was pretty hard as his ideas didn't connect correct nor coherent enough to make it sound clear, so the closest concept he managed to bring up was working as a radio antenna: receiving a message from somebody else somewhere in the vast cosmos, and he was in the same frequency of that message of the universe, a host who could see why the allies were on Earth albeit, details scattered in pieces of a story that wanted to be told and known.

It made sense — sort of, enough to understand they had a role in the current conflict between allies and invaders.

"But that doesn't explains why they want me dead."

"They confused you for an alien with similar features, it leads me to believe that underneath their mask, they look human..." Phil widened his eyes in surprise and awe, "I don't know or why is that possible but... I think they do look like us, the Solarians, as that woman called them." For another brief while they were silent, "Hey, I know you're all waiting for answers, I know you now are aware I've known this to myself for a long time, and maybe even think I have all the answers you want but, in fact, I don't..."

"I know." Chris turned at him, "I know you don't, and that you feel pressed to speak up about it to the others. It must be hard for you to have your own secret blown over out of sudden and raise even more questions, but I understand you don't know where to even begin or how..." Phil took a pause, turning to look up to his eyes, "And I want to tell you that if you need to talk about it even if it might be a struggle to understand, you can always talk to me." His lips curved a genuine smile upon his face towards the frontman, "Or at least let me know when you feel ready to open up, I'll be by your side to talk to the others..."

The crystal in his blue eyes said he wanted to cry, at the same time he saw genuine relief reflected behind. Chris attempted to smile but instead he did a grimace, before he could say something else, his lifetime friend wrapped his arms around him for a warm hug.

"Thank you..." He muttered with a cracked voice, "Thank you so much Phil..."

"It's alright Chris, you're my best friend despite everything..." Chris broke the hug, cleaning his eyes, "I guess I understand all of this is hard for you... but you're not alone..."

His sight blurred a bit as a warning that the sleeping pill was making effect on him, meant, it was time to go back to his room for some sleep.

"Will you need some help to walk?"

"I wouldn't mind some help to be honest... in case I fall asleep midway."

His friend chuckled in response and helped him to go to his room, as soon as he got there they chatted briefly — until Will showed up, which made Chris run back to his corner of the building after a quick yet nervous greeting, a clear sign he still wanted to avoid contact or any chat that would inevitably lead to that one certain topic, and that he probably still was shaken by his reaction of the previous night. Phil allowed his bald friend to figure that out with one stare that made him look away in shame, to then cross his arms and leave.

Then everyone left to sleep.

And that's how day 1 ended.

For the beginning of day 2, Phil mostly had a decent night of sleep thanks to that pill; by the time the effects wore off once again his dreams took him back to that wonderful grassland underneath the walnut tree, as the night sky was brighter than ever. Dreams didn't need to make sense, yet it felt as if his mind managed to take him somewhere else where things were calmer and less stressful, then again the silhouette of the (allegedly) woman visited his resting spot.

His children woke him up before he could see her better, giggling energetically.

Along all the good things there was a bad one. By the time he checked his phone it registered a few several calls from Dave, which made him wonder what media said about the attack and if the (official) manager already found out. With that in mind he logged on Twitter to see what the fans were saying about it, talking mostly about a "terrorist" attack while others were confused about the videos roaming the net, where some showed a bunch of soldiers attacking while others showed what really happened — yet naturally that was bullshit for most.

Yes, there were a few many tweets asking about their whereabouts and their wellbeing — knowing they knew about the trip due that one photograph of Chris' doppelganger, now also because of the national/international media... and also because of the fans that lived around the area, meant, somebody had to ensure on their official about their current status, but first he needed to be sure and see a version of the "official" claim.

"Terrorist attack in Bariloche, Argentina"

Well, on the bright side they took a realistic approach to the events as if a paramilitary group randomly decided to attack a pretty calm place with not much going on than people coming and going to places, instead of saying it was caused by a couple of angry aliens from the outer space! Anyway.

"Argentinian citizens got one of the biggest scares of their lives when a terrorist attack took place in the city of Bariloche, Argentina, in the afternoon of this past Saturday. Local reports of the police and other sources said the rebellious group was led by an unidentified woman with military skills, accompanied with at least a dozen of other soldiers."

Photos of Zeenah were edited to make her look as human as possible; she still looked threatening in the edits, imposing her presence with the angry gaze and some thirst for blood. Whoever edited the photos did an amazing job at keeping the key parts of her personality with the conversion. His back shivered with the memories of her: the power, the presence and recklessness, the chaos and the desire of vengeance... if not because of the allies, they would've probably died.

"According to witnesses, the armed group was aiming against the members of the British band Coldplay, who were in the city for a break prior to the end of the A Head Full Of Dreams tour. Sources also claim the armed group tried to abduct the band while they rested by a lake, before being spotted running away from them, as the city became a battleground between the paramilitary group and the local police force, before getting aided by the local military force."

The article mostly had edited pictures attached as the videos would be harder to edit. Some people saw them, he didn't doubt Twitter had videos of them running from the real threat or hiding in the improvised shelter — some pics of them from the bird app were attached as well, now that he scrolled down. Either way the truth was too much to bear in reality, so one of the things his mind brought in consideration was that the videos of the true event were taken as some sick dark humour prank to rationalize the crazy event that occurred in that spot of the world where he and his friends were located and most likely prone to another "terrorist" attack against their wellbeing.

On the bright side — just to try to be positive about something, those conspiracy theorists would have some good fun for a long time.

"Thanks to the effective deployment of the law enforcement, the paramilitary group was successfully contained, albeit their leader died after a final, desperate attack after her army got reduced to nearly nothing in a kamikaze attack with her second in hand, which caused two more casualties as a direct result of the explosion. A total of twelve casualties were reported: eight from the terrorist side including the leader and the second in charge, three officers and a civilian during the shootings."

His empty stomach spun now he realized there was much more collateral damage than just some destroyed buildings and debris, wondering if the twelve casualties were the real number or some made up cypher to fit the narrative of the article... either way, he swallowed hard with a bad taste in his mouth now with those thoughts in mind. Maybe he'd try to find a way to corroborate the data, or else he wouldn't feel at ease...

"No comments were presented by the pertinent authorities more than their gratitude towards the people who helped to protect and save the civilians. The British band also didn't make any comments until the writing of this article, who were seen enjoying their time after the attack"

That last one paragraph felt like some shade thrown, feeling a bit offended as if the band didn't care about the affair — quite the opposite: he didn't say a thing about it to not concern the fans, but now after reading the article and being aware that now the world knew what happened, he felt it was needed to update their status and log off again to avoid answering about the whole affair, fearing they'd bring up the real footage with their pertinent questions to hear his version of the story.

@coldplay: Hello everybody! I see a lot of people concerned about our wellbeing due the events from a couple of days ago, we're doing fine and good! Luckily none of us got injured, and we're safe and sound. Thanks for the concern and sorry for not reporting before. PH

Then in a contiguous tweet he added: Oh, and we hope you all liked our little treat with Jonny going back to jazz ;)

In the span of a second, many replies arrived: relief, happiness and a good bunch of positive feedback about their stupid internet short. That was enough to log off from Twitter for the day and start another activity with his family; so far the morning resumed in getting breakfast, a walk around the town, ask about the casualties (sadly, those things weren't made out, so he made sure to reach his regards to the families and allowed them to know if they needed any help they could let him know), have a light lunch after feeling sick and have no traces about Chris again...

Surprisingly enough his kids made a plan to arrange a whole afternoon only for him to spend with their mum for some — uh... "fun", by suggestion of, surprisingly, Apple — for some random and strange reason. When they asked for more information all they had in response was both children storm out of the room to their cousins' room — meant, they said the truth and they wanted them to have some quality time alone.

And honestly, that was a really good decision, especially given the fact on how they really enjoyed to have some more closure to the other after those months away from home, with kisses, caresses, feeling each other's presence. Any concern or negativity washed away down their backs the more their fingertips caressed the other's body with such passion and delicacy, translated as well to their slow kisses after the first time they were done, in their perfect bubble during an interlude. He caressed her cheek with her on his lap as their eyes connected, without sharing words.

Have their moment and make love, indeed was something they missed a lot, and after ending their stuff, they went to have a date around by their own before going back to normality, having their children ask about their "day off" — which they omitted in part to pass it as nothing special, to finally have dinner somewhere else to change the routine a bit.

Oh and, this time again there were no traces about Chris.

That's how day 2 ended.

The interlude within his dreams gave another break with the grasslands, and it was just... odd, how every time he didn't dream with one thing, it was the other. And, the same woman always visited the tree where he always laid, and every time he was about to see her face he woke up.

Day 3 started with new news: somewhere past the Fawklands (1), an island close enough from their territory an unknown object landed, everything they knew is that it could be a satellite that disintegrated in its majority before hitting land due leftovers scattered around, while the rest either didn't survive or fell in the water. Either way, it was odd that the astronomic services didn't send any urgent messages about a falling satellite, knowing the damage it could've caused in urban areas and places nearby.

Other than that, they kept going with their activities, starting of course with breakfast with zero clues about Chris (even Phil was still surprised about it after the talk), yet they knew it was to avoid the issue; but to not divert from the main plot of this fanfic, it was another day where they shared together — especially on how hot it was outside.

Yep, day 3 was a pool party.

Three groups split from there: one side they had the women sunbathing, then the kids playing in the pool some games, and finally the fathers were keeping an eye on their children as they sipped some water (drinking was strictly forbidden during daylight) from a bottle. At first they tried to talk about literally anything else, it worked for five minutes until a long silence established among the group of friends, who stared to their children for two minutes, other five on their phones, and...

"Alright, fuck it!" Will finally exclaimed quite annoyed, "I know we've been trying to avoid the bloody subject but I can't stop thinking about the alien affair." All his friends turned in response now the silence got broken, "Those individuals were very keen about killing Phil. Does that mean there's an alien doppelganger of him? Us?" No one gave an immediate response, "The only thing I got from Chris' reaction is that they were looking for a lookalike, then I missed the rest."

"Everything I also know..." The co-manager spoke, "...is that they were after somebody who killed their 'lord', and whoever did it had my traits." As much as he wanted to talk about the things he talked with Chris, he kept it as a secret for the moment, "The few things I'm aware of, are chunks of missing information, and it's scary it fits with — uh..." Fuck.

"With what?" The drummer inquired, catching something in the air out of sudden, sharpening his eyes suspiciously.

He shook his head in response, "It's stupid, actually it's nothing important..." He bit his cheeks a bit, "Not really important I mean..." Squint his eyes highlighted bags under his eyes, revealing he had issues to sleep. Compared to the other days, the bags weren't as prominent as these were near the end of the tour.

"Oh, we see you haven't slept as much as you hoped on this holiday." Jonny's voice him off guard, "If something's happening, in the same way you always hear our bullshit, you know we can do the same for you, always."

From the very bottom of his heart he would forever be grateful to have an amazing bunch to rely on; on the other hand, he always wondered why they always thought he was that important, everything he did was fill some gaps here and there. Still that didn't change his mind about talking about his dreams, for a little while until Jonny staring straight to his eyes convinced him.

"Okay, so... it's— uh... quite complicated, actually." Phil said trying to put his ideas together, "I've been having some sort of lucid dreams lately. Strange lucid dreams to be more specific..." He trailed off a bit, "And this may sound crazy, but these have been happening since the meteorite thing..." His friends either nearly choked or spat their drinks, "Those invaders, their lord... I saw them in my dreams but they're so blurry for moments. Something within reacts as if I know them, even though I don't!" He gulped half of the bottle of water, "Even the allies are familiar, somehow... but every time I try to recall their faces I get blocked... some events are clear when I sleep, and it all fades away when I'm awake..." He took another pause and drink more, "I didn't say anything because, why would I? Dreams are dreams after all, until..."

"The alien attack!" Guy exclaimed, "Your dreams were memories from a friend of theirs, if that makes sense..."

"Whatever happened to them, it was the last known person that was around their 'lord' before all parts split up." Will added, "But if you're receiving their memories, wouldn't that mean...?

"The person they're looking for is probably dead..." Jonny ended the question, "I mean, yeah. Otherwise, I don't think there could be another explanation for those dreams/memories you've received more than the holder is gone. If this mysterious being was still alive, you wouldn't be seeing them, especially as it never happened before."

Well, he didn't expect some pieces of the puzzle would pop up with the talk, as weird as it was the things exposed made enough sense. Many invaders behind somebody who was already dead — meant they still didn't know that person was gone, and having Phil as a double. But how didn't they know yet? And how did they find the rest of the allies there? The most the manager knew thanks to Chris was that he was compatible with a "signal" from far away, and that this missing being could be physically similar to him.

"This is all madness..." He finally said after a brief silence, "Everything, actually!" His mind felt about to blow up, "But I'm glad we're talking about this, finally. It makes me feel better..." He smiled in response, his friends did the same at him.

"Now I wonder..." The drummer spoke, "If your copy or doppelganger, or whatever it is, was last seen with the leader of the invaders... does that mean you know how it looked like? Or if both are actually dead?" His friends turned curiously, "Or at least remember how their 'lord' looked like?"

Now they all turned to Phil, who bit his cheeks in response to try to dig in his mind for answers and well, if he could remember regardless of being awake. Things were much clearer in dreams whole details quickly faded away as soon as he woke up, the only remaining things left were the thrills and an uncertain feeling of hope and dread — until dread was everything left once the events flash-forwarded in high speed.

"I... don't know." He finally said, "Maybe if I focus I'll get something?"

They only gestured him to go ahead and try, meant, the manager closed his eyes as the guitarist helped to empty his thoughts and focus on the real deal; maybe with some luck he'd get a conscious answers from those— Uh... memories.

At first the mental images were blurry, distorted with missing information in a different language he swore was English the times he dreamed, now sounding more like the gibberish dialect his friend could speak, with the many bits of scattered information a body — a tall being standing in a dark background formed, he faced what looked like the back. As more as he focused, the being became clearer: around 8ft and 6 inches tall, wearing an armour similar to the one Zeenah and her partner used (that's what he could tell from the perspective as the king was also wearing a long king cape, attached to the long protector of the shoulders). One deep breath and this being became clearer as it turned around, making his body started to tremble...

From all the things he didn't remember nor know, it was certain that this one was... an actual monster.

Nearly white pearl skin covered by an organic armour, such as a helmet-shaped head with two black bull horns at the sides, while at the top of the skull there was some sort of a turquoise gem-like... something stuck (maybe an equivalent to hair in mammals?). Still as part of the (exposed parts of) the organic armour, the wrists were covered with wristbands that had more of a grey-ish tone, that also possessed a turquoise oval stuck on them; shins as well presented the same features. Four fingers, three toes, all with black nails; another shiver rushed down his spine as soon as he remembered a couple of bright red eyes that cried for destruction and blood. From below the eyelids a thin line connected below the jawline, while a smile filled with evil intentions and pure chaos was curved in black lips, which added a lot to the already threatening presence of the (allegedly) dead lord of the invaders — was it even possible to kill a demon? His body kept trembling with the sign of death in front of his eyes, not doubting at all that whoever sent those memories felt the same.

"Phil... Phil! Philip!"

He opened his eyes startled, covering his face from the sudden bright light invading his senses, rubbing his eyelids and moving shoulders and head to wear out the shock out of his body. The horror and fear took a little longer to wear off, then walked under the sun to try to warm up as he felt cold, wanting to entirely wear away the negative feelings overwhelming his systems, and after a couple of minutes it felt enough, drinking more water.

"So?" Will asked

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, processing some of the information.

"It's terrifying..." He cleared his throat, "It's not like a horrid being with grotesque features but more uh... well, there is something unsettling, something... threatening that screams death to the point you freeze..." He took a pause, "And if that being is dead as they claimed, I'd be deeply and truly surprised because I don't see a way of it happening..."

Another pause, then gave all the possible details before they faded back to oblivion, and even if it didn't sound as menacing as their minds pictured, still lingered an eerie feeling surrounding the persona of the tyrant that sent heavy chills down their spine; Phil held a little chuckle in response, now they know what he felt for that moment, even if it was likely they all different mental pictures of what he saw. Then, none of his friends said anything else, at least until...

"Are all your dreams in first person? Or do you see someone else's adventure in third person?" The bassist asked quite curious.

"It's normally all in first person," His friend replied, "But I rarely get to see things in third view, and even rarely see anything I can reflect against." The face of the others implied he needed to elaborate a bit more. "Anyway, can we talk about something else? It's already making me wonder where the heck is Chris."

"Such a shame Will scared the fuck out of him and left us unanswered." The bassist poked quickly.

"I already tried to apologize!" The drummer exclaimed with certain annoyance.

They knew something bad would happen after he smiled, knowing he poked Will's patience.

"Then, try harder."

Will threw Guy into the pool, instant karma kicked in as the bassist quickly managed to grab his wrist and pull him with him victoriously. Both Jonny and Phil bursted into a laughter while the other two had a very pathetic brawl, trying to drown each other. Less than five minutes later they dropped they stupidity after seeing their kids ashamed as hell, pretending to not know them which, forced them to go back to normality until it was lunchtime, which made everyone split back in their own activities.

Afternoon passed without news, problems nor even signs of life from Chris. Things passed smoothly by, then at the end of the day each member was in their own thing before joining for a drink (although they had quite a few times the feeling for somebody observing them from afar) in the bar when the sun started to set. It wouldn't be much, just some to enjoy themselves for an hour then have dinner, take their children for a sleepover so they wouldn't be bored and by the end of the night, throw a party among the adults.

That was the main plan, yet amazingly (not enough, though) Phil decided to get some rest earlier as he felt dizzy (fuck, he wanted one of Chris' pills but they still had no clues about him), intensifying on his way back to his room. His body felt oddly cold — similar to the cold at the pool with the foreign memories —What does this means...?—, somehow it felt like a warning of danger around, from a place he couldn't identify no matter how much he searched; then a hand on his shoulder made him leap nearly half a meter in the air due the surprise.

It was Chris. The sensation eased quite a lot.

"Holy shit man, you scared me!" He exclaimed covering his face.

"I'm sorry Phil, is everything okay? It seems like something's bothering you."

He smiled a bit in response, rubbing his face to wear part of the surprise away.

"Don't worry, I suppose it's just my mind playing some tricks on me..." He replied, "I'm not feeling really well anyway so... I'm taking some rest for the night." He massaged his forehead with two fingers, "Will you join the others at the bar? I'm sure they're waiting for you."

His friend remained silent for a full minute, considering the whole situation it should be too obvious he was pretty hesitant about being bombarded with questions of his soon-to-be drunk friends regarding his knowledge; something even said to their heads that chaos was ensued in some extent — for some reason.

"I guess I'll think about it..." He replied with a soft smile, "And I hope you can join them later in case you feel better, P." His words sounded more light-heartedly, his guts told it was just because it was Chris. "Anyway, have a good night and get that break from babysitting us. The two of them started to chuckle.

"See you later C."

Both friends kept going on their way; unknowingly for the co-manager of the band, he missed to see his childhood friend flinching while walking away. There was a point where he sat alone in the hallway for a minute while rubbing his ankles in order to ease some of the pain away, a couple of other thing he failed notice were the covered knuckles and how worn out the frontman was. It's for the better, he thought, I don't want to worry him... Nor any of his friends.

He was fairly worn out, and how not to when for the last three days he spent his time under intensive training? The alien attack led him to allow Blitz give him an intensive training to try to push his limits and do much more than just escaping; it was both physical and mental, so once he wasn't physically able to keep moving, his mind was the place to continue. His guts didn't stop screaming about a storm incoming on their way and he needed to be ready to be... capable enough to keep his friends and family safe.

He wished though, to find the right words to explain people about it without sounding unhinged. No matter what, not even after the alien affair, he was fairly sure they'd think he lost a screw —Fuck that— because it was easier to deny the events —Maybe later...— and pretend it was all some sort of crazy fever dream they still didn't wake up from —No... maybe tomorrow?—. Maybe they still were on tour with a collective sickness —Tomorrow night...— stuck in hotel rooms somewhere in the world trying to recover —I'll tell them tomorrow night...— waiting for the results of a bunch of urine analysis —And finally teach them what I'm learning.

"Yeah... that's what I'll do..." He mumbled, the longer he kept the knowledge, the worse it could turn, "That's the wise thing to— huh?"

He turned to the sides with the feeling of someone observing his movements, even if he was alone with the cameras —No... that's not it—, someone was watching and no, it wasn't Blitz. Maybe all he needed was dive in the pool to relax or go to the spa to relax his muscles and release the tension, that would help to recover and continue the following day.

All that sounded so tempting as his body craved for less activity for whatever was left for the day, so standing back up with a few problems, he kept his way out and turned around one more time, finding himself alone —But am I really...?— so, sighing deeply he kept on his way to the spa (he already had a shower, that's why his body felt heavier) and relax.

Phil on the other hand entered in his room and had to take a shower to sleep, the children were all on a sleepover at Apple's room (most of them were grown up and responsible to take care of the youngest). As soon as his head hit the pillow his eyes felt heavy, the restless accumulated for days on the back of his mind arrived in billions of thoughts that quickly shut as soon as his eyelids closed. Now there was nothing but darkness: a large, endless space of darkness and silence, peace without flashbacks, without noises nor anything to disturb his dreams...

Well, that's what it seemed until he started to open his eyelids slowly and found himself trapped in a blue bubble in the middle of a void surrounded by debris — the outer space, he recognized. Debris and asteroids floated around, a mixture of rocks, vegetation and the leftovers of a civilization —Wait...— while the bubble he was in presented some cracks —This is...—; his body felt drained and tired, and most of his clothes were gone (excepting part of his trousers, which at that point were pretty much shorts, and a couple of white boots that had some ragged cloths) with signs of an intense battle, a sign that repeated all over his body with cuts, bruises and injuries, and his muscles felt tense while he barely had energy left to move.

Phil then understood he now was back to be the missing ally.

Orange sat inside the bubble and looked around with tears forming around his eyes, "Dear Shah..." He mumbled, "I have failed..." He looked all over the place to the shambles of once a beautiful planet, "I'm so sorry..." The conscience of the co-manager inside the alien felt the emotional pain growing in his chest by the loss of the planet, "I broke my vow... I couldn't stop him in time..."

With whatever left of energy in his body, he lit up a white aura that kept the remaining oxygen of the bubble for himself as it popped off, with the weight of the tiredness burdening his shoulders. If he was lucky enough, there could be a space pod that survived and could use to go to a hospital planetoid, so once recovered he could start to search the whereabouts of the rest of his race to give them the news, reunite and solve what to do next, as it was fairly sure they might be wandering space in search of a new home for some time...

Wander through the debris felt devastating and painful to the core: everything they knew and loved was gone forever. Find a planet with similar characteristics would be a hard task to accomplish, terraforming wasn't a thing they'd want to do unless the changes made were minimal. The crafts owned scientific resources to leap over any inconvenient regarding a hypothetical colony but, for everyone, it would never be the same. The next generations would have it easy to call their new planet "home" if they managed to find one soon...

And his name would be remembered as the Major who allowed Solaris be destroyed.

The warmth and oxygen kept inside the aura allowed tears to slip down his cheeks and float away turned into ice, tiny pieces of ice filled with all the sorrow of the universe of somebody who couldn't protect his home. "I won..." He mumbled almost silently, "But at what cost...?" Phil could feel all the emotions flowing as his own, added to the fact that he, himself was sad with the whole view, so it was fairly easy to empathize with him...

Long enough the time passed as they (both, one inside of the other) kept wandering across the debris and pace rocks with no signs of a functional ship (some of the ones that survived were from severely damaged, to straight up ripped in parts) to finally leave and rest; Orange didn't really know how his body kept moving despite the severe pain, the numbness of his muscles and the lack of energy, as if something inside fuelled his body — the hope of seeing his friends again, his crew and his loved ones...

His eyes saw something floating in the distance, something barely distinguishable from his current position that caught his curiosity (and Phil's as well), but once closer to the unidentified object, his vision glitched and distorted, floating somewhere else from their last position but now in front of a nearly intact individual pod. It was quite burned, bumped but overall the large, round red wine glass was unharmed, and checking inside, the seat and the control panel below also seemed untouched.

Orange felt relief, only a bit more of time and he would be heading to a resting place, he had to be quick as the oxygen of the bubble was low as his energies — it was quite a miracle he managed to get so far to that very exact point. He was breathing heavily, his hands quickly looked for a button to manually open the door... but things started to get so dizzy and his movements became sloppy and dumb.

"I... I was so... so close..." He mumbled with tears, "I'm so... so... sorry..."

Right when he said that the aura disappeared, a painful stab from billions and billions of invisible needles made of cold attacked all over his body, quickly freezing him as it covered with frost and the little air remaining in his lungs also froze...

And Phil woke up breathing heavily, covered with sweat as his heart raced like crazy. His hands clutched the bedsheets as tight as possible, shaking terribly with tears down his eyes; that last part —It meant...— made him wonder: why were the invaders against the missing one if he was dead? How didn't they know that?! Their lord was dead, so his executor, therefore it meant they had no reason to attack anyone, not even him...

"..."

Dead... he had to tell Chris about that, because that last bit was absolutely livid compared to everything else seen in dreams. Maybe they could figure out together how to reach the allies and tell them the situation...

Then he flopped back on his bed staring at the ceiling with dread as the last bits struck him the most; none of them had a place to return, their friend was dead and a bunch of space pirates were tracking them and maybe the rest of the population as well in an act of retaliation for the death of their stupid lord — why would anyone even mourn the death of a demon, though? And how even stars away from Earth, things seemed to work similar in advanced civilizations: advanced beings with wacky forms, shapes and knowledge still behind rotten figures...

A gloom to dark perspective if he was fully honest with the entire situation, one that quickly emptied his heart with some sense of dread (that's at least what he thought). Think about stuff outside their little planet with all the unknown dangers somewhere in the outer space was pretty frightening due how little they knew about... everything, humanity were still taking baby steps regarding that topic, even if so many things seemed so complex, for other races their stuff were beyond archaic.

Others stars from very far away held utopias and functional societies like the stranded aliens, it seemed that good and evil were universal but in the larger scale. Surely in the same way many different types of shit happened on Earth with ruthless beings throughout history but in a different scale — planetary even. Think that people from different races were up to follow a tyrant that most likely attacked many different planets for only-they-knew-why and even murdered countless innocent people across the universe... that made his stomach flinch in pure and utter disgust.

He had to tell Chris about it.