Three minutes, huh? Well, that wouldn’t be enough time, but I’d make it work. It’s not like I had much to do or many places to go. My feet carried me steadily to my destination autonomously. With my mind and eyes free to wander, they did. Overturned cars and abandoned shopping carts littered the street. Shop fronts, once enclosed in glass and bearing the tastiest new treats in fashion and food, now stood barren, their only wares the glass that once protected them. Fires no longer burnt, but the remnants of ash blew in the light breeze like discarded candy wrappers. It was impossible to walk along the street without seeing corpses strewn about like abandoned coffee cups. The trick to not seeing them was to not look too closely; this one may have been your barber, that one was your grocer, this one didn’t have a face, but you think they were your barista. Few people wandered the streets, but those who did never did alone. There were things to fear, and not all hovered above the city. Today fewer people were out than normal. Those who were out fell into two categories: running away with their entire house’s contents on their backs or embracing each other with every intention of holding on until the end of time. * * 2 MINUTES REMAINING * * The mechanical voice was nothing if not punctual. I tilted my head back and observed the massive object that blotted out the sun. It hovered lower than most airplanes flew, but higher than the tallest building. The mechanical disc had hung menacingly over the city for nearly a year now. At first it was just a novelty, a topic of conversation everywhere: the dinner table, the classroom, the news, the government, the internet. These discussions were instantaneous as the discs descended into the atmosphere simultaneously. Pictures and videos spread like wildfire. Experts guessed at how many there were, but it was virtually impossible to tell; while there was one for each major city, many more were scattered in between. For weeks nothing happened. Some people attempted to appeal to the visitors, placating them with songs, gifts, and poems. Other people resorted to firefights with the objects that never fired back and remained undamaged and unfazed. Even diplomatic envoys extended by various governments and their associated organizations failed to make headway with the vessels. After a few months, the allure died away. The floating ships became a backdrop to our day-to-day lives. Until three months ago. Just over three months ago, a mechanical voice issued from all saucers around the globe as one. Each voice spoke in the language predominant in the locations above which they hovered. Here, we heard it in English. * * 100 DAYS REMAINING * * Sheer panic consumed the globe. Interest in the objects was reinvigorated and that’s when I got pulled in. My government ‘recruited’ me to assist in reaching out to the visitors, whomever might be on the ships. We arranged an international coalition to engage in various tactics on the thousands of vessels fixated in our atmosphere. Operations were enacted on the machines worldwide and data was recorded. We had a single, unified goal: to figure out what would happen in 100 days. It was all very hush, hush then. But what does it matter now? We sent our own communications to the crafts via electronics and personnel. None yielded results. Some stations hauled out x-ray machines. The subsequent films were scarred by blue lines. We attempted to investigate it with satellites, but the images were as damaged as the x-rays. Other groups tried building up to it, but when they got close, a dull, constant hum caused unstoppable nosebleeds and forced them to abandon their efforts. Still yet, we attempted to get aircraft close to them, but within a kilometre, instruments went haywire. Again, we were forced to desert our inquiries. When our attempts returned fruitless, militaries made their attempts. Land-to-air missiles flew towards those ships farthest from large cities. Within 10 meters of their destination, each warhead blew up, seemingly of its own accord. The militaries didn’t declare any errors. Their diversions quickly landed on a shield of some kind. No one could corroborate their claims. Well, their allotted time was up today. We are no closer now than we were 100 days ago. Our coalition disbanded three days ago to allow time to say goodbye to our families, to travel as far away from the objects as possible, to accept our fates. * * ONE MINUTE REMAINING * * I have no family. No one to say goodbye to. No one to stress with over our uncertain fate. But I probably had the best seat for whatever was to come. Finally, up in my apartment, I pulled out my last bottle of wine and stepped out onto my sprawling patio. From my balcony I could see down several ruined city blocks. Normally I consumed my first coffee out here and watched the world move about me, the people scuttling about like ants on the ground far below. Today my eyes looked up, not down. * * THIRTY SECONDS REMAINING * * I opened the wine and settled down on one of the lounging chairs. I wouldn’t be doing any sunbathing today. * * TWENTY SECONDS REMAINING * * I took a long swig of the wine. What a good year that was. * * TEN SECONDS REMAINING * * A loud whirring noise above me announced the shifting of paneling on the vessel. * * NINE * * Would I finally see the visitors? * * EIGHT * * An increasing hum of energy building up emanated from the open panels. * * SEVEN * * Blue lights shone from every surface on the machine with a larger concentration seeping from the openings. * * SIX * * Another large swig of wine. * * FIVE * * Were those screams of people below me? * * FOUR * * The hum of energy increased. * * THREE * * I took a last swig of my wine before covering my ears against the growing whine. * * TWO * * The wine fell forgotten. I curled up, screaming against the screeching in the sky. * * ONE * * Through my closed eyelids, the darkened day grew suddenly bright. It wasn’t the warm glow of sunlight, but a blazing blue heat. The heat and light washed over me like a wave. I felt my flesh melting, but there was no pain. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that this was… The End.