Chapter 86: Humanity’s savior

Jelo processed what the scientist had just said, then asked a question that seemed obvious given everything he knew about recent history. “How are you so certain the ihes will attack again when a treaty has already been signed?”

The question immediately triggered a violent reaction. The scientist’s face contorted with rage, his wild eyes bulging slightly as if Jelo had just said something profoundly offensive. His entire body went rigid, the mechanical glove sparking dangerously as energy surged through its systems in response to his emotional state.

“A treaty!” the scientist spat the word like it was poison in his mouth. “A treaty! You actually believe that scrap of paper means something? That words and signatures and diplomatic ceremonies have any value whatsoever?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it—only bitter contempt and fury. “Of course you do. Everyone does. That’s exactly the problem!”

He began pacing frantically in front of the cage, his movements jerky and agitated, his tattered lab coat swirling around him with each sharp turn. His normal hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly while the mechanical glove continued to spark intermittently.

“The treaty means nothing to the ihes!” the scientist declared with absolute conviction, his voice rising to fill the entire underground space. “Nothing! It’s just a strategic pause, a temporary cessation of hostilities while they rebuild their forces and develop new weapons and prepare for the next phase of their conquest!” He spun to face Jelo directly, his expression twisted with frustration and contempt. “But nobody wants to hear that! Nobody wants to face the uncomfortable truth!”

According to the scientist, the ihes were ambitious beings fundamentally, driven by expansion and dominance in ways that humans couldn’t fully comprehend because their psychology was alien, their motivations operating on different principles than human societies. “They do not see humans as equals,” he continued, his voice taking on a lecturing quality now, as if explaining something painfully obvious to a slow student. “They never have. They never will. To them, we are inferior organisms that temporarily proved more troublesome to subjugate than expected.”

He stopped his pacing and gripped the cage bars with both hands, bringing his face close to Jelo’s. “The treaty is their acknowledgment that they need to approach the problem differently, not an acceptance of humanity as worthy partners or equals. They’re regrouping, reassessing, preparing. And when they come back—not if, when—they will come with strategies and weapons specifically designed to counter everything we used to survive the first war.”

The scientist’s certainty was absolute, unshakeable in a way that went beyond mere paranoia or fear. He insisted that the attack was inevitable with the kind of conviction usually reserved for fundamental laws of physics. It wasn’t a possibility or a risk—it was a guaranteed future event that only fools refused to prepare for.

“The government is foolish for trusting words instead of preparing for reality!” he shouted, releasing the bars and resuming his agitated pacing. “They want peace so badly, want to believe the war is over so desperately, that they’re willing to ignore every indicator suggesting otherwise! It’s comfortable to believe we’ve achieved lasting peace. It’s politically convenient. It allows them to redirect military funding to other priorities, to tell their populations that the danger has passed.”

His voice dropped slightly, taking on a more bitter quality. “But comfort and convenience don’t change facts. And the fact is that the ihes are out there, rebuilding, planning, preparing to finish what they started.”

The scientist explained that he had tried repeatedly to warn officials during the months following the treaty signing. He’d presented his theories about ihe psychology and strategic thinking to military commanders, to government representatives, to anyone who would grant him an audience. He’d shown them his evidence—patterns in ihe behavior during the war, analysis of their military doctrine, projections based on their known capabilities and objectives.

“But every attempt failed,” he said, his shoulders sagging slightly with remembered frustration and defeat. “Every single one. They refused to listen, every last one of them. Blinded by false hope and political comfort, by the desire to believe the nightmare was over rather than face the possibility that it was just beginning.”

He’d been dismissed as alarmist, as paranoid, as someone unable to accept that peace had actually been achieved. His warnings had been characterized as the ravings of someone traumatized by war, unable to adjust to peacetime reality. Some had been more polite about it than others, but the result was always the same—his theories were rejected, his evidence ignored, his presence increasingly unwelcome in official circles.

“Because of this,” the scientist said, his voice taking on a quality of grim determination, “I chose to disappear and continue my work underground, away from the fools who refused to see what was coming.” He gestured around at the lab surrounding them, at the equipment and experiments that filled the space. “I’m determined to create something that could protect humanity when the ihes return. Since the government won’t prepare, since the military is being gutted and weapons programs are being shut down, someone has to do it. Someone has to be ready.”

The passion in his voice was undeniable, the conviction absolute. Whether he was right or completely delusional, the scientist genuinely believed every word he was saying. He saw himself as humanity’s last hope, the only person willing to do what needed to be done while everyone else slept in complacent ignorance.

Jelo listened to all of this, then replied quietly, “Those are extremely big dreams for one person to carry.”

It wasn’t mockery or dismissal—just a statement of fact. The weight the scientist was claiming to bear, the responsibility he’d taken onto his own shoulders, was immense. Stopping an entire alien invasion through solo research conducted in an underground bunker with limited resources? It seemed impossible, the kind of grandiose delusion that defined madness rather than genius.

The scientist exhaled slowly at Jelo’s words. The sound was long and tired, carrying exhaustion rather than the offended rage that had characterized his previous responses. For just a moment, the manic energy drained from his posture, leaving him looking older and more worn than his appearance suggested.

“You’re not wrong,” he admitted quietly, some of the theatrical madness temporarily absent from his voice. “The burden is… significant. The work is endless. The resources are limited. The timeline is uncertain.” He rubbed his face with his normal hand, the gesture surprisingly human and vulnerable. “But someone has to do it. And I’m the only one who sees the necessity, so the responsibility falls to me.”

Then he seemed to shake off the moment of weakness, straightening his posture and fixing Jelo with an intense stare. “But don’t worry about whether I’ll succeed or fail. Don’t waste energy being concerned about my mental state or the feasibility of my goals.”

The scientist paused, clearly thinking carefully about what he wanted to say next. His expression became more calculating, more cold, the manic energy replaced by something darker and more disturbing.

“There is one thing you would appreciate, actually,” he said, his tone shifting to something almost conversational. “The true purpose and essence of the work being done in this bunker, when the ihes come and humanity is saved, and I am finally recognized.”

He stopped speaking for a moment, still thinking, still choosing his words with uncharacteristic care. The silence stretched uncomfortably as Jelo waited, his stomach knotting with apprehension about what revelation was coming.

Then the scientist added calmly, with the kind of matter-of-fact delivery usually reserved for discussing the weather, “Unfortunately, you will not be alive to feel grateful for your contribution.”

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