Digital Footprints.
The misty morning draped the mountains above Drammen in a ghostly veil, turning the pines into spectral silhouettes. Deep within the cave, the blue glow of the bio-mask reflected off damp stone walls, casting eerie shadows. The Predator hunched over a human laptop—his powerful, clawed fingers pressing the fragile keys with unexpected delicacy. The screen blinked: “Create your Facebook profile.”
Thor Junior, curled up near the entrance, watched this strange ritual with interest. His wet nose twitched at the new scents—laptop dust, the faint metallic tang of overheating circuits, the lingering trace of human sweat on the device.
First Steps into the Digital World
His claw hovered over the “Username” field. The bio-mask suggested options:
“Invisible Hunter”—too literal a translation.
“Shadow Wanderer”—sounded like cheap fantasy.
“Lone Wolf”—already taken.
He settled on the simplest: “Lone Stranger.”
Choosing a profile picture proved tricky. The shuttle had taken several shots, but:
The first made him look like a blurry smudge.
The second resembled a large dog.
The third was outright mistaken for Bigfoot.
They settled on a silhouette against the mountains—mysterious enough to intrigue, but vague enough to hide his true nature.
Unexpected Complications
The “Occupation” field triggered a system error. “Intergalactic Hunter” wasn’t recognized. He had to pick from the dropdown:
Forester
Wildlife Photographer
Researcher
He chose the last one—technically, it wasn’t a lie.
The CAPTCHA with buses stumped him. The shuttle quickly cross-referenced Earth’s transportation database, but the fact that a simple vehicle image had stalled him made his mandibles clench in irritation.
First Post
He uploaded a photo of a mountain lake, taken by the shuttle in stealth mode. Dawn light danced on the water’s surface, creating an almost mystical glow. The caption:
“Quiet places. Has anyone else seen lights over this lake?”
Replies flooded in instantly.
“Photoshop!”
“I was fishing there yesterday—saw nothing!”
“It’s a UFO! They’re everywhere!”
The Predator clicked his mandibles—humans were crafting better cover stories than he ever could.
A Costly Mistake
Emboldened, he posted a video of Thor Junior playing with the anti-gravity bracelet. The fawn leaped joyfully, trying to catch the hovering device. Caption:
“Unusual reindeer behavior. Thoughts?”
But in his excitement, he forgot to disable geotags.
Thirty-seven minutes later, a notification chimed.
Ilya V.: “Interesting reindeer. And interesting tech on its leg. Meet up? I’ll show you my collection of… unusual artifacts.”
Panic in the Cave
The shuttle immediately activated security protocols. Holograms flooded the cavern:
Thermal scans pinpointing Ilya’s location.
Analysis of his recent searches (“how to identify alien tech,” “Yautja in Norway,” “DIY plasma weapons”).
Screenshots of his social media—including a suspiciously familiar broken plasma caster.
Thor Junior, sensing tension, nervously chewed the USB cable, muffled crunches punctuating the silence.
The Unexpected Choice
Then—a vibration. A new notification:
“Ilya V. sent you a friend request.”
A single button: “Confirm.”
The Predator froze, his claw hovering over the touchpad. The bio-mask flashed conflicting data:
Threat level: 68%
Potential intel gain: 53%
Risk of exposure: 89%
Down in Drammen, a man with dangerous knowledge waited.
And in a cave above the town, an interstellar hunter faced a dilemma no clan manual had prepared him for.
Accept or decline?
Thor Junior sneezed—his nose hitting the “Enter” key.
