The neon glow of the monitors filled the basement. Energy drink cans and empty pizza boxes surrounded the four—Daniel, Joe, Sebastian, and Marco—the core crew behind the xenocide.website alien gaming blog.
But tonight wasn’t about Starcraft or X-COM. Tonight, they weren’t just gamers—they were witnesses.
On the projector screen, YouTube streamed the Trump-era UFO hearing. The House chamber looked dry and procedural, but the words being spoken sent shivers down their spines. Lawmakers pressed military officials and whistleblowers about Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena. Luis Elizondo’s testimony ran like dialogue from their own sci-fi campaigns:
“We are not alone in the cosmos.”
The room went silent. Even Sebastian, usually the joker, didn’t quip.
“Bro,” Marco whispered, clutching his controller, “that’s literally our blog. That’s xenocide. Except it’s… real.”
Joe leaned forward, eyes sharp. “No, man. This is bigger. They’re saying the same stuff we wrote about the Andromeda Peace Citadel… treaties, alliances. Except it’s the Pentagon, not Protoss.”
Daniel shook his head. “Nah, you don’t get it. This is the lore bleed. Fiction and reality are crossing. When Trump’s people start declassifying, we’re gonna find out which of our posts were prophecy.”
On the stream, a congressman asked why the Pentagon hid UAP evidence for decades. The witness answered carefully, talking about security risks, nuclear sites, and objects defying known physics.
Sebastian finally cracked a grin. “Imagine if the Zerg Swarm shows up on C-SPAN next week. Game over, boys.”
But deep down, none of them laughed. They felt it—that uneasy thrill, the same buzz they got on launch night of a new expansion. Except this time, it wasn’t a game. The real alien patch notes were dropping live.
The chat window on YouTube scrolled faster than they could read:
👽 “Disclosure now!”
🚀 “We’re not ready…”
🛸 “Take me with you!”
Joe muted the stream for a moment. “If this is real, if the government actually admits it… what happens to us? To the site? Are we just gamers, or are we archivists of first contact?”
Daniel picked up a marker and wrote on the whiteboard behind him:
Xenocide Phase II: From Blog to Broadcast. From Fiction to History.
The four nodded, not as gamers, but as watchers of a new age. The YouTube stream flickered as another witness took the mic, and in that flicker, for just a moment, Joe swore he saw something—an eye, vast and unblinking, watching back.