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Book 1 | Book 2 | Book 3 | Book 4 | Book 5 | Book 6 |
#SciFi #ScienceFiction #Futuristic #SpeculativeFiction #MindBending #Interdimensional #Otherworldly #PortalFiction #CosmicEncounter #ParallelRealities#GirlPower #YoungHeroes #UnexpectedHeroes #Teamwork #BraveGirls #EldritchHorror #UnknownEntity #BeyondTheVeil #DimensionalRift #AlienMystery#SciFiAdventure #RealityWarp #ExtraDimensional #StrangePhenomena #SupernaturalSciFi
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The Danversâ living room is quiet, the October light fading into early November dusk.
Roxana curls up on the couch, her face drawn, as Mr. Danvers pauses in the doorway, keys in hand. âRoxana, I thought you were hiking the mountain with the girls?â he asks. âThey left,â Roxana says, her voice soft.
âI stayed behind.
The funeralâs emotions drained me.
I need alone time.â âNeed a ride home?â Mr. Danvers asks. âItâs two houses down,â Roxana says, smiling faintly.
âCan I stay here?â âSure,â he says.
âIâve got a group over tonight.
Youâre welcome to join.â âYour UFO group?â Roxana asks, eyebrow raised. âDisclosure discussion,â he confirms.
âWant in?â âI might say something upsetting,â Roxana says.
âIâd have to watch my words.â âSomeoneâs always upset,â Mr. Danvers says, laughing.
âAs long as itâs not classified, youâre fine.
It could be fun.â âOkay, Iâll join for a bit,â Roxana says.
âDid you order pizza?â âAbout to,â he says.
âWhat else?â âWings, breadsticks, onion rings, fried zucchini, extra ranch,â Roxana lists. âYes, maâam, the works,â Mr. Danvers says.
âHow you eat twice my weight and stay so slim is beyond me.â --- ### UFO Disclosure Group The dining room buzzes with the UFO disclosure group, pizza boxes stacked high, the air tangy with marinara and ranch.
Bill Johnson, a grizzled skeptic, leans back in his chair. âFive percent, max,â Bill says.
âThe rest is nonsense.
Year after year, âdisclosureâs imminent.â Itâs 2025, and still nothing but the same old lies.â âDisinformation, delusion, or clickbait,â Jennifer Mason adds.
âDecades on, this community still falls for it.
You sift through to find the bits that hold up.â âThereâs a kid here, Bill,â Mary Johnson says.
âWatch your language.â âDonât mind me,â Roxana says, grabbing a wing.
âI agree with Mr.
Johnsonâitâs mostly nonsense.â âHow old are you, sweetie?â Mary asks.
âAny ET experiences?â âFifteen,â Roxana says.
âAnd yes, plenty.â âCareful, Roxana,â Mr. Danvers warns. âItâs fine, Dad,â Roxana says, grinning.
âIâm Catholic, once considered being a nun.
Iâve experienced God, Jesus, angels, and a few demons.
None are from Earth, so arenât they ETs? If the Bibleâs right, ETs have been here as long as humans.â âWe know Jesus and angels,â Bill says.
âBut have you met them face-to-face? Thatâs the disclosure we wantâup close.â âJesus is here now,â Roxana says.
âI feel Him.
Demons? Met them in dreamsâJesus chased them off.
Angels? Met one in the flesh, awake.
Itâs my private disclosure.
I canât prove it.â âThatâs key,â Jennifer says.
âMillions have private disclosuresâsightings, contacts, abductions.
Maybe thatâs all we get, one person at a time.
Mass disclosure might never happen.â âFor this group,â Mr. Danvers says, âwe focus on mass disclosure.
Private ones vary, subjective.
Mass disclosure would be one story, undeniable, for everyone.â âPressuring governments and military hasnât worked,â Brenda Gonzales says.
âItâs not our choiceâitâs the visitorsâ.
They couldâve disclosed a thousand years ago or today.
They choose not to.â âMass disclosure happened millennia ago,â Jennifer says.
âThey were gods, walking among us.
As technology surged in the Renaissance, they retreated, revealing themselves only to a few.â âFollow the money,â Bill says.
âWho profits from disclosure? Not visitors, government, or military.
Itâs us, the little people, but we lack the trillions to force it.
For true disclosure, it must profit the powerful or cost them if they hide it.â âExactly,â Mr. Danvers says.
âThe UFO narrative, like global warming or opioids, is politicized and monetized.
We need a narrative where disclosure is the only path to profit.
I canât crack it, but letâs put it in our collective consciousness and see what emerges.â âRoxana, does the Catholic Church believe in UFOs as aliens?â Jennifer asks. âThe Vatican archives have centuries of UFO documents,â Roxana says.
âI donât know their conclusions, but aliens arenât just from other planets.
They could be spirits, interdimensional beings, time travelersâthings we canât imagine.
Many donât need ships.
Maybe theyâve always been here, unseen.
The Church sees them as Godâs children, some righteous, some evil, like us.â âReligions worldwide mention star visitors,â Jennifer says.
âBut we need hard evidence nowâwho they are, why theyâre here.
As a spacefaring species, we need their technology to survive our planetâs crises.â âIf they wanted to share, they wouldâve by now,â Mary says.
âAre they waiting for profit, like Bill said?â âDisclosure comes when Jesus returns,â Roxana says.
âHeâll separate the sheep from the goats, sending most visitors away.
That could be 2,000 years offâor 20,000.
Until then, only private disclosures.â âYour Catholic perspectiveâs unique, Roxana,â Brenda says.
âIâd love to talk with a visitor.â âItâs tough,â Roxana says.
âIâm a sensitive empath, like many my age.
I feel Jesus, recognize angels in human form, sense visitors.
Their thoughts are alienâso different we lack words to connect.
Theyâre often machine-like, emotionless, finding our feelings baffling.
Thatâs why mass disclosure hasnât happened.â âDescribe the difference,â Mr. Danvers says. âImagine an island culture,â Roxana says.
âTheir life is fishing, hunting, farming, watching weather, worshipping water spirits.
Their language only covers that.
Try discussing anything elseâthey canât grasp it.
Visitors are like thatâtheir existence, beliefs, tech are beyond our words.
Weâre a mystery to them too.
Disclosureâs impossible.â âNot all are like that,â Brenda says.
âSome are like us, right?â âSome *are* us,â Roxana says.
âNot everyone in this town was born on Earth.
Hybrids exist tooâhumans tweaked to bridge us and them.â âRobert!â Jennifer exclaims.
âYouâve hidden this girl from us? How does she know this?â âIâm as shocked as you,â Mr. Danvers says.
âRoxanaâs Aileenâs best friend, like a sister.
I knew she studied esoteric texts for her faith, but not this depth about visitors.â âIs Aileen a sensitive empath?â Brenda asks. âYes,â Roxana says.
âSo are Ella, Patricia, Margaret.
We meditate together to hone our skills.â âWhatâs a sensitive versus intuitive empath?â Mary asks. âA sensitive feels, hears, or smells emotions, connecting deeply,â Roxana says.
âAn intuitive interprets, reading body language, but thatâs risky.
Intuition blends with imagination, potentially channeling harmful entities.
As a Christian, I stick to sensitivity.
Intuition needs caution to avoid deception.â âYouâre incredible,â Mary says.
âKids today are differentâadvanced.
Disclosure isnât from politicians or military; itâs through our children, right here.â âItâs also at UFO hotspots, vortexes,â Brenda says.
âBut their videos show lights blinking, not true disclosure.
I want them to land, step out, engage.â âWould you and your friends join our group?â Bill asks.
âYour perspectiveâs vital.
Weâll buy all the pizza you can eat.â âMy friends wouldnât be comfortable,â Roxana says.
âIâll drop in when Iâm here.
Speaking of pizza, itâs readyâletâs eat.â --- ### Base Camp The mountainâs base camp crackles with a bonfire, its glow warming the chilly November night.
Commander Beaker and his twin daughters, Jennifer and Chloe, watch as the girls pile Bobbyâs clothes and books onto the pyre. âWhatâs the bonfire for, Dad?â Jennifer asks. âA ritual,â Beaker says.
âJanet lost her son, Bobby, Helanaâs secret love.
They believe burning his items releases them to heaven, sending them to him.â âThatâs silly,â Jennifer says.
âTheyâre just tossing shoes and shirts in?â âI donât buy the heaven part either,â Beaker says.
âBut itâs their belief.
Burning helps them find closure.
Losing a child is unimaginableâwe give them this to heal.â âWhen you die, Dad, Iâm not burning your stuff,â Jennifer says.
âIâm selling it.â âSecondhand stores wonât take his clothes,â Chloe says.
âNot trendy enough.â --- ### The Peak The mountain peak is a frozen expanse, stars sharp above the girlsâ camp.
Ella and Aileen huddle in a two-person sleeping bag, the wind howling outside their tent. âYouâre so tiny, Aileen,â Ella says, shivering.
âYou donât warm me like Helana.â âYou two get hot together,â Aileen teases. âStop it,â Ella says.
âWeâre not lovers.
Girls can be intimate without it being sexual.â âIâm kidding,â Aileen says.
âEveryone thinks weâre gay anywayâno boyfriends, just secret ones.
Hence the two-person bags.
Does that bug you?â âNah,â Ella says.
âThey wonât stone us like old times.â âJealous that Helanaâs with Patricia tonight?â Aileen asks. âNo,â Ella says.
âPatriciaâs one of us.
Iâd be pissed if it was some random girl.
They bonded when Patricia guided her back from the other side.â âPatricia powered up those hills,â Aileen says.
âSo delicate, yet strong.
Alien genetics?â âMust be,â Ella says.
âThat straw hat looked goofy, but her skin needs it.â âSomeday weâll have husbands, maybe not even in the same city,â Aileen says.
âI want that, but Iâm scared itâll break our connection.â âIâve been thinking about that,â Ella says.
âHelana says time and space are illusionsâweâre always in the âhere and now,â in Godâs mind.
We should meditate separately to connect there.
Letâs try tonight, reaching Roxana and Margaret.â âWhen we meditated with Helana and Patricia, did you see the other side?â Aileen asks. âJust fog and emptiness,â Ella says.
âA bus stop in a desertânothing but a sign.
Not like Helanaâs momâs beach party with sand and trees.â âWhat about Beakerâs twins?â Aileen asks. âPretty, nice enough,â Ella says.
âBut empty.
All jobs, boyfriends, clothes, carsârobot girls.
Society does that, turns people into workers and spenders.
I hope we never do.â âWeâd have without Helana,â Aileen says.
âThank God for her.
Iâm sleepyâBeakerâs feast stuffed me.
Love you.â âLove you too,â Ella says, drifting off. --- Ellaâs bedroom is warm, the November night crisp outside.
At 9:00 PM MST on an early November Sunday in 2025, she opens her diary, sore but reflective.
Dear Diary, Back from hiking that stupid mountain.
It was kinda fun, though.
Met Beakerâs daughters, Margaretâs age.
We couldnât say muchâjust Navy ROTC kids to them.
Theyâre stuck-up, into their own world.
No connection. Roxanaâs been blabbing to Mr. Danversâ UFO group.
They want us to joinânot happening.
Sheâll get us in trouble preaching Jesus.
Aileen and I meant to meditate with her from the peak, but we crashed. Spent time with Helanaâsheâs slowly herself again.
I missed her so much.
Didnât realize how deep her love for Bobby was, like losing a husband.
We meditated on the mountain, sharing her grief.
It spread the pain, easing her load.
Wish Roxana was thereâsheâd love seeing the other side. Janetâs cool.
She knows Helanaâs ours firstâwonât steal her. Iâm sore from miles of hills.
The peak was freezingâdonât climb mountains in November! Itâs not tall, but cold as hell up there.
Need sleep. Goodnight, Diary.
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