“This plan sucks,” the yellow alien said.
“No, can’t you see? It’s brilliant!” the green alien said, throwing his arms in the air. “Brilliant!”
“Okay, whatever. We’re doomed anyway, might as well try this crazy scheme of yours,” the yellow alien said, waving the issue away with his antennas. He looked down at the multidimensional screen. “Is everything in place?”
“The videogames? Yes. All set.”
The yellow alien scratched his antennas. “How did you get them to download our game?”
The green alien snorted. “Oh, that was so easy. All we had to do was put up the words no-DLC on the cover image, and it got like a million downloads just like that,” he said, clicking his fingers.
“Hm. And this race, you believe they’re fierce warriors?” the yellow alien asked, pulling up the data of the human race. It was a weird kind of creature, bulky, primitive, with very small brains, hairy, no antennae. Not unless you counted the one dangling between his legs. So weird.
“Oh, they are the biggest gunners of the galaxy!” the green alien said proudly. He was right to be proud, he was the one who had discovered this race of brutes. If this long-shot worked, he’d be hailed a hero for all time. The yellow alien didn’t thing this was their salvation, but on the off-chance it worked, he wanted to be on top of the project so he could grab all the praise.
“Do they kill?”
The green alien leaned close and whispered. “Without hesitation. Without mercy.”
The yellow alien’s skin prickled at that. Such a race! Killing with no remorse, it was inconceivable! But, weren’t the Reds the same way? Invading their space, killing without mercy? Gunning everyone down, women, children, the elderly? Okay, the Reds were doing them a favour by ridding them of the elderly, but kids?
“I see…” the yellow alien said after a long moment.
“The battles have begun!” the green alien said, eyes wide as unidentified flying saucers.
The green looked down at the multidimensional screen again. It compressed a massive amount of information and beamed it to your brain, jumbling it all up, compressing it, then let your own brain sort it out. It was very efficient. The data coming in from the human servers was mind-blowing. The humans were killing each other relentlessly, all in a day’s videogame.
The green’s eyes went wide as well. “Don’t they know?” he whispered, unable to take his eyes from the carnage.
“They do not seem to, no,” the yellow said, gulping audibly.
“But… How is that possible?” the green witnessed a human team wiping out a team of ‘noobs,’ as they called them.
The other team respawned and regrouped, winning the next round. They called the opposing team, ‘cyka blyat.’
It was impossible to look away.
“How can they not know?” the yellow alien cried out, blinking, still staring.
The green shook his head and wiggled his antennas in a shrug. “Perhaps their gods didn’t tell them.”
The yellow turned to his subordinate ally, shocked from top to bottom. “Didn’t tell them the conditions for entry to the afterlife? How cruel can they be?”
The green wiggled his antennas in another shrug. “Very, it seems.”
Twenty four hours passed. The two allies took a few breaks but pretty much watched the entire slaughter. The humans were indeed the finest butchers in the galaxy. Here they were, killing each other without remorse. After he vomited a few times from his anus, the yellow alien managed to stomach the disgusting sight. He was tired, and his eyes were sleepy, but this was far too important to waste time on sleep. He shot up a stimulant and carried on, inspecting this crazy project.
“A winner has emerged!” the green alien cried out, kneeling on the floor of their spaceship.
The yellow alien felt the same, but he was a leader so he composed himself. The turned to look at the multidimensional information.
A teenager. Ianto Burkes. The best gunner in the entire planet.
“We’ve waited enough,” the yellow alien said and pressed the button.
The teenager got snatched up by the teleport beam and found himself in the middle of the spaceship’s bridge. He appeared there, shocked, his fingers still fiddling with imaginary controls. “Wha-”
The yellow alien stepped close to him. “We don’t have time for shocked responses and debriefings.” He booped the human’s sticky forehead with his antenna and transferred everything he needed to know.
“Whoa!” the human said, eyes glazed. “Do that again.”
“I’m afraid that would be a detriment to your health,” the green alien said, rubbing his hands together. “Are you ready?”
“To kill the Reds? Hell yeah! Just point me at them,” the human said, giddy for blood.
The two aliens turned to one another, the same thought clearly in both their minds. The same kind of hope. Could this kid be the one to save them from the Reds?
The yellow alien gave the order and a device where humans played videogames on teleported in the middle of the bridge.
“Whoa!” the human said. This seemed to be his main reply to most things. But the yellow alien didn’t care. He didn’t bring the human here to talk. He brought him here to gun down his enemies.
“Are the controls known to you?” the green alien asked, worried.
“Yeah, man. Just like the retro games in my village. We can do this,” the human said and grabbed the joystick of the arcade.
The aliens turned to each other, expectant, full of adrenaline. The yellow was weary, this could easily still be an elaborate plan to fool them. And if he fell for it, his entire race was gone.
The green alien nodded. “Control of the green armada, granted.”
The yellow alien grunted. It was now or never. He flicked his antenna. “What the hell. Control of the yellow armada, granted.”
“Whoa!” the human said, finding himself suddenly in control of two billion spaceships. “I know how to play this. How do I know how to play this?”
“We compressed the knowledge into the game. Nevermind,” the green alien said. “Now, do it.”
“Do what?” the human asked.
“Gun them all down. All the Reds,” the green alien hissed, making a fist with his tiny fingers.
The human shrugged. “Sure.”
And he turned to the arcade.
Both the yellow and the green alien retched and vomited the remainders of their stomachs. It was a complete massacre. The human simply outmaneuvered every single attack by the invading Reds, out-thinking them in every turn. His mind was, after all, alien to them. His actions made no sense, and by the time they regrouped the human called Ianto had wiped out significant portions of their fleet.
The yellow alien vomited from his anus, he didn’t have anything left to expel, but his body convulsed in disgust.
“Eww, man!” the human said, turning away. “That’s horrible. Why are you reacting like this?”
“How can you not know?” the yellow alien said.
“Know what, dude?”
“Your gods didn’t tell you?” the green alien croaked, holding his stomach.
The bloodbath on the screen was unbearable.
“They don’t tell us much of anything,” the human Ianto snorted, killing Reds casually with tiny flicks of his wrist.
“The… How can I even begin to explain this… Every virtual sin, everything committed in all realities, is the same,” the yellow tried to explain metaphysics to the dumb human.
Ianto kept gunning down enemy ships. “So?”
“Killing is a mortal sin! You’ll go to hell!” the yellow alien wailed, unable to hold back. “Aren’t you ashamed?”
Ianto shrugged. “It’s just a videogame, dude.”