Chapter 15: Extinction Has a Name
The silence didn't last.
By morning, the world was screaming.
Satellite footage of the destroyed facility was leaked—cratered ground, charred skeletons, and a spiraling energy signature unlike anything on Earth. Global defense protocols activated. Every major power—the U.S., China, Russia, even India—was now hunting the same target:
An alien threat with mass-kill capability.
Codename: "Obsidian Star."
Alias: Yumiko.
Suraj knew none of this.
He was unconscious again. His wounds had opened during the escape. Yumiko, half-crazed, dug herbs from the earth, stole gauze from abandoned outposts, and used what little knowledge she had of human biology to keep him breathing.
She never left his side.
But her hatred grew. Not just for the government. For the entire world.
This was a world that had never accepted her. A world that only feared what it couldn't control. And now, it wanted to erase the only person who ever mattered to her.
She sat in the ruins of an old chapel they'd found—half-buried in vines, moss growing over broken pews. Suraj lay on a blanket in the altar's shadow. She stroked his hair, humming softly to keep herself from losing her mind.
That night, the stars above looked unfamiliar. Different.
She knew why.
More satellites. More scans. More attempts to triangulate her.
They were coming.
---
Elsewhere, war rooms were in chaos.
"We lost contact with another drone fleet."
"The crater's radiation is unnatural—she corrupted physics itself."
"What are we dealing with? A god? A weapon?"
"No," a scientist whispered. "We're dealing with love."
The general scoffed. "Love doesn't kill thirty soldiers."
"Not unless you try to take it away."
The room went silent.
---
By day three, Suraj finally stirred. Weak, feverish, but alive.
Yumiko nearly collapsed in relief.
"You're still here," he said.
"I'll always be here."
He looked into her eyes. They weren't just black anymore. They were burning. Something inside her was changing. Mutating under pressure.
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.
"You won't. I won't let the world take you from me."
"But you're changing."
She paused.
"I am. Because love… isn't enough anymore. I need power. I need to protect you from everything—even this cursed planet."
She stood, hair flaring gently around her.
"Let them come," she said, voice cold. "Let them try to erase me. I'll show them what extinction looks like when it loves."
---
The next day, the military arrived.
Armored tanks. Helicopters. Prototype mechs.
They surrounded the chapel, floodlights cutting through the ruins like search beams from heaven.
"Come out with your hands above your head!" they barked through speakers. "You are surrounded!"
Yumiko stepped out.
Alone.
Barefoot.
Her body was covered in dried blood and dirt.
But she looked like a queen.
No fear. No trembling.
Only vengeance.
"You think numbers will save you?" she asked.
A silence.
"FIRE!"
The missiles launched.
But they never landed.
Yumiko didn't move. Her hair rose like black wings—and everything stopped.
Time fractured.
The missiles reversed. The tanks folded inward. The mechs fell like puppets with cut strings.
She walked forward, the ground cracking with each step.
The soldiers ran.
She didn't chase.
She walked back into the chapel, her body trembling from energy overuse.
She collapsed beside Suraj.
"I'm still yours," she whispered.
And he, barely awake, held her hand.
"Then I'm still alive."The wind howled through the crumbled remains of the chapel.
Yumiko sat silently beside Suraj, her knees pulled to her chest, arms folded around them. Her pitch-black hair, no longer just a weapon, had become a symbol of warning. The strands seemed to move with a life of their own, subtly twitching, responding to threats even in sleep.
She hadn't spoken for hours.
She didn't need to.
Because everything she loved had already been broken once—and she knew the world would try again.
A makeshift fire crackled nearby, casting shadows that danced along the mossy stone walls. Suraj's breathing was shallow but steady. She had wrapped his wounds in whatever cloth she could find, boiled forest roots to disinfect them, whispered lullabies from her own planet that only ghosts could understand now.
But in her silence, hatred brewed.
Love and obsession were now one in her veins. And obsession, when combined with power, becomes extinction.
---
Meanwhile, the world burned—not with fire, but with fear.
On live television, world leaders addressed their nations. A red-ringed map rotated on screens worldwide.
> "We are dealing with an unprecedented extraterrestrial threat," the President said, his voice grim. "We must unite as one species to preserve our survival."
All major cities entered alert mode. Satellites locked onto her last known location. Drones swarmed the skies like insects hunting a predator they couldn't comprehend.
The military didn't speak of Suraj. To them, he was just a hostage. A weakness. A bargaining chip, if she had any logic left.
But Yumiko wasn't a chessboard piece. She was the wildfire burning the whole table.
---
Back at the chapel, Suraj stirred again.
Yumiko crawled beside him, holding his trembling hand between hers. His skin was pale, eyes heavy, but he smiled faintly.
"You're still here…" he whispered.
"I told you," she said softly, "as long as I breathe, no one will take you from me."
He coughed, pain slicing through his chest. "How bad is it out there?"
"They're coming," she whispered.
"For you?"
"No. For us."
He didn't flinch. That was what hurt her most. Even broken, even beaten and bleeding, he still chose her. Not because she was safe—but because she was his.
"You should run," he murmured.
"I'd rather die."
He smiled through the tears. "Then we die together."
---
Outside, the army gathered again.
This time, it wasn't a warning.
It was war.
Dozens of tanks. Thousands of drones. Two prototype robotic war mechs flown in from NATO. And somewhere in orbit, experimental weapons loaded—capable of splitting mountain ranges.
She felt it all from the chapel. The pressure in the air. The way the Earth seemed to brace for impact.
But Yumiko didn't run. She stood, slowly, gently laying Suraj down.
"I'll be right back," she said softly, pressing her lips to his forehead. "Close your eyes."
He didn't protest. He knew.
She walked to the chapel's edge. One barefoot step. Then another.
Then she rose.
Her body began glowing faintly, black hair extending behind her like wings of ink. Her arms hung loosely by her side, but her eyes—her eyes were absolute void.
And then she spoke.
Her voice didn't echo through the woods.
It echoed through the sky.
"This world... tried to take him from me.
And so, this world must break."
Then she screamed.
Not in pain. Not in rage. In something worse—grief sharpened into fury.
And the Earth answered.