Page 36 of Wrecked By My Alien Mentor

CORA

The basement of the sweatshop smells like mildew and desperation. The fluorescent lights flicker, casting shadows that make the rows of mismatched chairs and their occupants look like a surrealist painting. I sit near the back, clutching my bag like it’s a lifeline. My palms are slick with sweat, but I keep my face calm, my posture relaxed. Lars—Luhr—stands at the front, his ice cream white suit glowing under the sickly light. He’s too polished for this grimy setting, like a diamond in a dumpster.

“Thank you all for coming,” he says, his voice smooth and commanding. The room falls silent, every gaze locked on him. “I know it took courage to be here. To face the truth, even when the world calls you crazy.”

A man in a rumpled suit nods vigorously. A woman in a hoodie murmurs, “Amen.” They’re all here for the same reason: fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the monstrous alien invaders Lars has painted as the enemy. My jaw tightens, but I force myself to stay still, to stay quiet.

“We’ve all seen the signs,” Lars continues, pacing slowly. “The strange lights in the sky. The disappearances. The corporations that seem to control everything, even when theyshouldn’t. But here’s the thing—” He pauses, letting the tension build. “We’re not alone. There are those among the stars who stand with us. Who want to help us take back our world.”

The room erupts into murmurs of hope and disbelief. I scan the crowd, noting the mix of desperation and determination. These people are ripe for manipulation, and Lars knows it.

“But words are easy,” Lars says, raising a hand to quiet the room. “Deeds are harder. That’s why I’m thrilled to tell you that one of our allies is here tonight. One of thegoodones. Someone who will show you that not all aliens are monsters.”

The door creaks open, and a man strides in wearing a futuristic red jumpsuit that looks like it was pulled straight out of a cheap sci-fi flick. His face is obscured by reflective sunglasses, and his posture screams confidence. Lars gestures to him like he’s unveiling a prize on a game show. “Everyone, this is J’on. He’s one of our… allies from beyond the stars.”

I narrow my eyes, my stomach churning. J’on? Really? That’s the best name they could come up with? And the jumpsuit? It’s like they’re not even trying to hide how fake this all is. But the crowd eats it up. A few people gasp, and one man in the front row actuallyclaps. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Or maybe it’s to keep from screaming.

“Thank you, Lars,” J’on says, his voice deep and smooth, like a late-night radio host peddling conspiracy theories. He removes his sunglasses, revealing oddly human eyes. I know better, though. I’ve seen what Grolgath really look like—scales, sharp teeth, and all. This guy’s just playing dress-up, and the sheep in this room are buying it wholesale.

“My people have watched Earth for a long time,” he begins, pacing the room like he’s delivering a TED Talk. “We’ve seen your struggles, your pain. The ruling class—those who hoard wealth and power—they’re not human. They’re invaders. Aliens,pretending to be one of you, controlling every aspect of your lives while you suffer.”

The room erupts in murmurs of outrage. A woman in a pink sweater shakes her head, muttering, “I knew it.” A man in a trucker hat cracks his knuckles like he’s ready to throw down. I clench my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. This is dangerous. They’re stoking a fire in people who’ve already got nothing left to lose.

J’on continues, his voice rising with passion. “But we’re here to help you take back your planet. To free humanity from their chains. Together, we can build a future whereyouare in control. No more lies. No more oppression. Just freedom.”

The applause is thunderous. Someone shouts, “Hell yeah!” and it’s quickly echoed by others. I scan the room, my chest tightening. These people are angry, scared, and now they’re being handed a target for their rage. It’s terrifying how easy it is to manipulate them. Lars and J’on stand at the front, basking in the adoration, and I t think of everything Orion told me about the Grolgath. How they see humans as pawns, tools to be used and discarded. Tonight, I’m seeing it firsthand.

I force myself to stay calm, to keep my face neutral. Inside, though, I’m seething. These people don’t deserve this. They’re just trying to survive, and the Grolgath are preying on their fear. No wonder Veritas wants to stop them. The Grolgath don’t just lack morals—they revel in their cruelty.

Lars steps back to the makeshift table, the bottle of whiskey catching the flickering light as he pours a shot. “If you’re serious about joining the Revolution,” he says, deliberate, “you’ll take this oath. And this drink. Prove your commitment to humanity.”

The crowd shuffles forward, a mix of nervous energy and misplaced bravado. I hang back, watching. J’on stands to the side, that metal rod in his hand, his reflective sunglasses back in place. He’s scanning each person as they step up, the rodhumming faintly as he points it at them. My stomach knots. What the hell is that thing?

I move closer, trying to get a better look. The man in the trucker hat steps up, takes the shot, and slams the glass down. “I pledge to protect Earth,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion. J’on waves the rod over him, and it beeps once. Clear.

Next is the woman in the pink sweater. She hesitates, then downs the whiskey with a grimace. “I pledge to protect Earth,” she whispers. The rod beeps again. Clear.

My turn’s coming. I need to stall. I step forward, my heart hammering, and motion to the rod. “What’s that thing J’on’s holding? It’s making a weird noise.”

Lars smiles, smooth as ever. “Just a precaution. We can’t have any ofthemsneaking in here, listening in. J’on’s making sure we’re all on the same side.”

The rod beeps again as the next person steps forward. I glance at it, then back at Lars. “So, what, it’s like a lie detector or something?”

“Something like that.” He chuckles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry, Cora. It’s harmless. Unless you’ve got something to hide.”

I force a laugh, but my palms are slick with sweat. The rod’s not harmless. It’s a detector, and it’s going to catch me the second it scans me. My Veritas tech is tucked away, but who knows what that thing can pick up. I’ve got to get out of here.

“Bathroom,” I blurt, glancing toward the back of the room. “Where is it?”

Lars points to a door in the corner. “Over there. Don’t take too long. We’ve got a lot of people to get through.”

I nod and hurry off, my heels clicking on the concrete floor. The bathroom’s tiny, with cracked tiles and a flickering light. I slam the door shut and lock it, leaning against the sink.My reflection stares back at me, wide-eyed and panicked. No windows. No way out.

I grab my bag and fumble through it, trying to think. There’s got to be something I can do. My hands shake as I pull out my compact mirror, my lipstick, my phone. Nothing useful. I’m trapped.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to think. Think, Cora. Orion’s counting on you. Veritas is counting on you. You can’t freak out now.

I stare at the door, then at my phone again. Maybe I can text Orion. But no—if I’m caught, that’ll blow everything. My mind races. There’s no time. Lars is going to get suspicious if I’m in here too long.

---