The mothership materialised over Earth in a shimmering pulse of energy. Inside, Supreme Overseer Xylox of the Galactic Concordance folded his many arms, antennae twitching with anticipation.
“This is it,” he announced to his crew. “The moment we make first contact with the dominant species of this planet.”
A murmur of excitement rippled through the control room. It had been centuries of observation, endless reports, and, frankly, an exhausting amount of patience. The humans had finally developed enough technology to justify an introduction to the greater interstellar community.
“Prepare the transmission,” Xylox commanded. “Let us greet these beings of intelligence and culture.”
The communications officer, Z’rrl, activated the ship’s intergalactic broadcast system, sending a message in all known human languages:
“GREETINGS, HUMANS. WE COME IN PEACE.”
There was a pause. Then, across the world, humanity responded.
On X, #FakeAliens trended within minutes. On Facebook, thousands in cargo shorts posted aggressive, barely coherent rants about government conspiracies. Meanwhile, a group on Reddit attempted to determine the mothership’s propulsion system using only blurry screenshots.
News anchors speculated wildly. Some declared it a hoax. One station accidentally aired footage from Independence Day and caused mass panic.
Then, a missile was launched.
It didn’t even reach the mothership before exploding mid-air due to its own faulty engineering, but the attempt was noted.
The crew watched as the humans continued their baffling reactions. A talk show debated whether the aliens should be considered illegal immigrants. A group of influencers attempted to go viral by standing directly beneath the mothership and filming reaction videos, while a self-proclaimed “alien hunter” fired wildly into the sky with an assault rifle he had bought three hours ago.
Xylox turned to his lieutenant. “Check the records. Did we actually confirm these creatures were intelligent?”
“Uhh…” The lieutenant scrolled through a holographic tablet. “They built particle accelerators, landed on their own moon, and mapped the human genome.”
“Impressive,” Xylox admitted.
“They also still have diseases we cured thousands of years ago, and, um… they think pigeons aren’t real.”
Xylox narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“The pigeon theory,” the lieutenant explained, showing him a webpage. “Some of them believe birds aren’t real.”
Xylox read for a moment, then shut his eyes. He was so very, very tired.
On Earth, the situation escalated. The U.S. president held a press conference where he made finger guns at the camera and announced that America was “more than ready” to go to war with “whoever those space nerds” were. The United Nations debated whether to send a diplomat, but before they could decide, an enterprising billionaire announced plans to build his own spaceship to “challenge the aliens to single combat.”
In the meantime, Xylox and his crew continued to observe.
One human attempted to charge the mothership with a sword. Another posted a TikTok of themselves trying to “vibe” with the aliens by performing a dance. A major corporation released a limited-edition “Alien Burger” to capitalise on the hysteria.
A group of scientists, desperately trying to salvage the situation, put together a formal message inviting the aliens to discuss philosophy, science, and interstellar cooperation.
It was promptly ignored in favour of a reality TV special titled “Abduct Me!”
Xylox sighed deeply. “I was hoping for another enlightened species to share knowledge with. Instead, we got…” He gestured vaguely toward Earth. “This.”
“What do you want to do, sir?” asked Z’rrl.
Xylox considered it. “Mark the planet as ‘underdeveloped, mildly dangerous, and deeply embarrassing.’”
“Yes, sir.”
“Prepare for departure.”
The mothership shimmered, then blinked out of existence.
Meanwhile, on Earth, a new conspiracy theory erupted. Some claimed the aliens had left because they feared humanity’s strength. Others believed they had never been real in the first place. One particularly vocal podcaster insisted the entire thing had been staged to distract people from the rise in avocado prices.
Humanity moved on.
The Galactic Concordance never returned.
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