The Invitation
Bruce, the squad leader, fell silent at his subordinate's words. For a moment he stroked his rifle, lost in thought. Just as his man had said, no matter how hard he searched his memory, he had never once spoken the word "Earth" out loud.
It wasn't simply that he couldn't remember. The chance he might have muttered it without realizing was effectively zero. How often, after all, did anyone casually drop the word "Earth" into conversation? And this wasn't idle chatter over coffee—they were in an operational zone, every nerve stretched taut. The probability was as close to nil as it got.
And yet.
"...We don't make that call. We're returning to base. That is all."
"Sir!"
"We're already talking to people whose language is different from ours and somehow understanding them. Maybe their magic—or whatever it is—reads thoughts. Thinking too hard about it will only give us headaches. Stirring up this kind of confusion might be exactly what they want."
Bruce shelved the judgment. As a Ranger special forces unit, field commanders were granted considerable discretion on dangerous live missions—true enough. But that discretion covered decisions like whether to open fire on an enemy, not the right to gun down intelligent, communicative beings who were, for all intents and purposes, civilians, simply because they seemed suspicious. Starting needless trouble with otherworlders they ought to be building friendly relations with was the last thing they needed.
His subordinate still wore a face twisted with discontent, but he offered no further protest. Bruce's reasoning held water, and on the battlefield final judgment rested with the squad leader. Open mutiny in the field was a suicide that endangered every life present.
And so.
"We should be heading back now."
"Is that so? What a shame you're leaving so soon. We haven't even managed to show you proper hospitality."
"That's all right. If we meet again, I'll take you up on that."
"Very well. Ah—and this."
When he told the elves they would be returning, the chieftain who claimed to be a High-Elf—Eruel—held out a strange pure-white stone.
A faint warmth seeped from it; holding it felt pleasantly warm, as if a flame flickered deep inside.
"...What is this?"
"The Great One has commanded that we give this to you as a gift. Said the mages of Earth would be delighted by it."
"...Thank you."
Earth had no mages, so she probably meant scientists. Looking at it, it did seem like the sort of thing that would get scientists excited. A rock that radiated heat on its own, with no battery inside?
And from that brief exchange Bruce pieced together a few facts. These people knew far more about them than expected—and the one who knew was not the elf standing in front of him, but the mysterious being they worshipped as the Great One.
Just who...
Who was this figure who never even showed a face? Could they truly be some kind of divine existence, as the elves claimed?
From the moment they crossed back through the gate at base camp onto American soil, Bruce remained sunk deep in thought.
"—It is finished, my Master."
In truth, a hamburger was one of the dishes even this otherworld could recreate. The ingredients amounted to little more than bread, fresh vegetables, and a well-grilled meat patty.
Those were things you could find anywhere here! I had the materials gathered at once and ordered my dragon soldiers to cook. Before long I was staring at the finished product, a thoughtful hum in my throat.
...The appearance passes inspection, at least.
But would the taste match a modern Earth hamburger? Full of expectation, I carefully bit into it—
A distinctly otherworldly earthiness flooded my mouth and ruined everything.
"Urgh—"
I spat the food out at once and rinsed my mouth with water, face contorted. Damn it. All I'd done was spoil my appetite. The look could be imitated somehow; the contents could not.
Of course. Look at any medieval painting or photograph of vegetables. Produce before modern science refined the cultivars was not only misshapen—its flavor was incomparable to today's. The situation with otherworld food was much the same. Even with magic, the inherent taste of the ingredients fell far short of what modern selective breeding had achieved.
Damn it. I'm already craving Earth food...
If I'd never known better, maybe I could have lived with it. But my taste buds, stimulated for the first time in thousands of years, violently rejected anything inferior to modern Earth cuisine the moment it entered my mouth.
Since going hungry posed no real problem for a body like mine, I set the meal aside and began clearing the backlog of work that had piled up while I was away on Earth.
I dealt with the grievances of those who had come under my command, exchanged greetings with the other Transcendents, and finally—
"—Eruel."
"You called for me, O Great One?"
"What became of them?"
I contacted Eruel, chieftain of the elf village, and her reply came at once, as if she had been waiting. I asked her about the guests who had come from Earth.
"They have returned to the place called Earth."
"Have they? Already? And you delivered the gift properly?"
"Yes. Just as you instructed, it was delivered without fail."
At that I smiled with satisfaction. If those people didn't pocket what they'd been given and instead passed it up the chain of command, it wouldn't be long before America recognized the true value of the object and invited me. Of that I was certain.
Hadn't I felt it myself on this very trip? That unpleasant stench unique to environments ruined and polluted by industrial waste. It existed because America still relied on chemical fuels like coal and oil.
The gift I had sent them held the secret to escaping that problem entirely.
I wonder how long until they send the invitation.
I had no desire to conquer Earth or rule over humanity. I simply wanted to enjoy and savor the civilization humans had built. For an unimaginably long time I had starved for conversation with people.
If that hunger could be satisfied, I would do anything.
"—Contact me the moment they come seeking us again."
"As you command, O Great One."
Literally anything.
"...Unbelievable."
Hagway, the United States Secretary of Homeland Security, looked down at the report from the Ranger regiment that had been dispatched beyond the gate and let out a hollow laugh.
Giants in another world that could bounce bullets. Beautiful elves who all looked identical. Magic that made speech possible despite different languages.
If the bodycam footage hadn't been submitted along with the report, he would have concluded the Rangers had lost their minds from the shock of crossing the gate. Even after watching the video, he still half-suspected it might be some kind of AI deepfake.
"Magic..."
They had already predicted the place would be governed by different principles, a different civilization. Prior reconnaissance with drones had been completed before the Rangers were sent.
The plants of the other world contained far more nutrients than anything on Earth—despite atmospheric composition that was, according to analysis, not significantly different from Earth's.
The scientists had argued that such overgrowth despite similar or nearly identical air composition was proof of some invisible factor at work... but who would have guessed that factor was magic?
And more than that.
The Great One? A divine existence? And such a being not only exists—he already knows about Earth?
There was additional reporting from Squad Leader Bruce. Some things only the personnel on the ground could know, things that never made it onto video. Fine—assume such a being existed.
The problem was that this being supposedly already knew about Earth. There was a reason he could not simply dismiss that as coincidence or misunderstanding.
...Could it be related to that incident not long ago?
Well before the Rangers returned, something had come through the gate.
It never appeared on camera, but the sensors had clearly registered it.
They had locked down the facility and searched immediately, finding not so much as a speck of dust... but what if that unidentified intruder had been the very "Great One" Bruce's men were talking about?
Then the otherworlders' knowledge of Earth would make sense. And at the same time, it would show just how dangerous this entity was.
No method of modern science could catch or even detect him. Once allowed onto Earth, there was no telling what might happen. Hell, even if he walked up and tried to assassinate the President in broad daylight, who could stop him?
And that being wanted an invitation to Earth.
Hmm... the correct move is not to let him in.
To secure the resources of the other world smoothly, friendly relations with its people were the right approach—but they could not afford to overlook the danger those people represented either.
He was still turning it over when the telephone on the Secretary's desk erupted into a frantic ringing.
He shot a brief glare at the thing that had shattered his concentration, then lifted the receiver.
"M-Minister! We've figured it out!"
"...Who is this?"
"Ah, my apologies. This is Research Director Amy!"
"Director Amy. What's the reason for such a sudden call?"
"That object the soldiers brought back the other day!"
Hearing the thoroughly excited research director's voice, the Secretary frowned and rifled through his papers. Before long he confirmed a single brief line in the report noting that they had received a gift from the elves.
A stone that radiated gentle warmth? Earth had plenty of those, so it hadn't drawn much attention at the time.
But now, according to the scientists who had just identified what the stone truly was through their research—
"It's nuclear fusion! Room-temperature nuclear fusion!"
"...What? What are you talking about?"
"That stone is undergoing nuclear fusion at room temperature!"
The energy it emitted was only a vanishingly tiny amount. But it was still an object performing cold fusion.
Even as a man of the humanities, Hagway knew full well the power that name carried.
Secretary Hagway immediately requested an emergency meeting with the President.