Docks is where all alien activity was first noticed by President, Salem Al Mali ck. He was then another ancestor of now executive of Narus Inc, a clone subject of Pandutji. CELL is a fraternity of DMs, who seek to bring the Alien Ceph, back to New York. That is their only goal, the year is 2057. Prophet, code named nano suit, is at the same docks, where CELL was keeping him in a confined sarcophagus cradle, for disembarking. Psycho, now out of the nano suit far away, and recovered, from the skinning labs, is at the same docks to free Prophet, and make way to the dome, that now a barren New York is, wanting to shut down the CELL, whom he sees as the bigger threat to humanity, and believes that the alien invasion is now over, just a few strays left. But Prophet, has seen it coming, with his mind mangled with the alien Ceph, he believes that the alien invasion is only getting bigger and stronger, now even with the Alpha Ceph, in control of the planet, and ready to bring something to our world from the home galaxy, M22. The real war is now coming to Earth, with Nano Hardware, Prophet, the only way of stopping the alien invasion, which could destroy Earth.

See, people of this country are jealous, and they hide it in the West. Good ones like me, hide from them, know that they are jealous. They make lame excuses like society, family, jobs, cities, causes, politics, money, wars, even countries or races. And call all these things cover ups. Calling it a rage against society, like bundled package of crytek, skynet, ghajini. People, were actually always WesNikle, like totally fake, and pure arrogant haye. No way out. Naturally, I don’t remember any interaction with them, as it was always a game. Only when they started coming to take did the danger and adventure began. I totally forgive them too. But they are fake, and I trust they’ll keep giving me Rt, like before. But why live among them? That just strikes out many million possibilities, like I’m so old now, can’t remember a thing, no past, no present, hardly any future, just Rt. I used to be good with interactions when I was young, but women changed all of that, the blame, the awkwardness, I’m still in a back to back campaign, this thing is never ending, like the ultimate good VS. Evil. I don’t even know how old am I or did I meet anyone, or had a life, or family ever even. They don’t let me remember anything. So many years gone by, all I do is just follow instincts, the hive knowledge, that something I’ll never let them cover up with. Yeah I’m Ghajini too.

“Shit happens!!”, Eighteenth century England. A place called Sleepy Hollow, a young doctor, journeys to it, investigating, strange deaths, victims, families of 4 or 5, members, died, their heads cut off, by who? People of this village, can utter some rumors and r eminence of of Gothic, unholy nature, of a tree in woods, of a headless horseman. A king in ancient times, comes forth on a certain night, and kills its victims, sinners in the village. Why would I believe in such a thing, such a monster. Why I’m a doctor, I’m here to investigate, the purported God people, administrators, who have been doing it, no matter how inconsequential they might think my science to be, that I shall not be able to connect any of the proofs, clues and the victims to the suspects. My science should not fail, I’m Ridley too, a doctor, who wants to study, find something solid and free these people of the fear of such a dark ghost of a monster. Those who control such crimes must come to the fore and not be God’s anymore. Not be our fathers our parents. Give us the motive, why play with something you don’t understand.

This place, is a lair, a hive, of a predator, who is either a terrorist group, a racist, or a monster, sociopath or psychopath. Why he became so powerful perfect and invincible is because of his lure, his people. They who come to take us day after day, they’re not regular people, but log. This lair and hive has a singular conscience or omnipresence that keeps coming to take us, and keeps finding us in one another. It stays dominant, even an invisible monster, best be treated as a product, of red queen politics, of Narus, DMs, scholars, elite agents of all mighty Pandutji. But that is not Rt. Only way to survive this hive is to survive the predator, who stays hidden until a D-day incident breaks, and stops Rt. That incident is a game, story or fiction, here called Rt. Otherwise it is the incident for me, and I shall not survive, when they come, as this time they won’t leave. Find Rt, bring it back online, save yourself.

These people here, log on this station, are not ordinary people. They come, cause an incident, then they leave. Devotional India has something to offer here, like peace of mind, I’m a peaceful soul. But the predator whoever built this lure, then the lair, the hive, knows that we want to live, and not die, specially after coming here, cause that’s what we fear the most in life. So I pray to the God, Bhagwan. But that is something we could choose, before we came here, also more importantly that the predator isn’t a God, and would kill only. “All of us are going to die here.”

Yet in this jungle is the glimmer of hope, of a different kind of a species that might have a lure, ready for us, which we might find easier to sustain survive and exit. People who have entered the current lair, and took too much from the predator, know that they are going to die, they were dirty with its log. You might be a clean guy, a loner, who won’t die for his people, your God now maybe different from ours. Best. Ripley

Carnivores and herbivores are two kinds that inhabit the eco system, over thousands of species, water, earth and air. Evolution driving them into each other’s medium of what it calls natural environment. Size, predatory instincts and senses, survivalism and becoming one another. And then the unreals or Wes, in each of these species, all dying for somebody, sooner or later, because time isn’t static, decay is how we define whatever is real. Humans aren’t different from any other species, at the time of writing, water species are the dominant ones, with sharks at the top of the predator kingdom. It is diversity that drives the ecology. Derived from apes, we have learnt over several millennia of development and evolution, it bring into and sustain the entire ecology of what we call life on this planet. So staying confident, I might add, we demand from each species, and each individual, about what more, disease challenge or death, that it can offer to us, imbibing and storing it in our race color and kind, then returning all we have learnt, sharing it to the rest of the world. I’m still a learner here, more and more demanding of what lies ahead, the pain and suffering, and struggle of entrapment, survival even escapism. Whatever I see fit for me, where ever.

The people in the 21st century, worked under Pandutji, they were all borne out of CIA, IAS, from India. Later in 2037, they started secretly working for these Engineers, calling them their Gods. They became believers in devotional India, the whole country was involved in the foundations of Weyland Yutani, and space frontier exploration, of Narus. After events of Prometheus and Covenant, they destroyed earth, our home, and built unreal 20th Century, farms in Engineer frontier planets, hundreds of them. They are the ones who set us up, on Isolation and Nostromos. I can’t believe just a handful of us now remain. We call them DMs, like ash, call, bishop. This mission isn’t one of survival anymore, we’ll have to restart the human race in another solar system, one day. We must move slowly and carefully. I’m Ridley.

They’re all a predator race. And their are millions and millions of them on this planet. And after we’ve crash landed here, we’re not going home, that’s something they’ve destroyed, while we were in hyper sleep. They have sophisticated weapons, like the xenomorphs and yuitasus, hunter killers, that wipe out entire planets. We’re a dead end here, just a few of us in escape modules. They have even human bipeds, living in a system of countries, replicated like our home planet, but they are made out of jealousy for us. We call them unreal, living a 20th century life like our home, that’s the secret weapon which the Engineers used to get us all killed. We are the last few survivors. The unreals, have a broadcasting system, it is jammer, which is keeping us enslaved and not letting us live or have our way. It can be rigged with us survivors to broadcast us, instead of them, that would slow their hunters and killers down, and maybe even make us invisible to them for a while, until they find us again. The hunt is on.

We’ve been to Mars before. But we’ve run of space and people here. This world just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I keep getting bigger and bigger. So I need to head out to another planet, start a colony, forget about Terra forming, only stations, city sized on land and in orbit. Bring the predator in them, along with battleLog, I need to survive this, get communications, internet and TV ready, broadcasted from Earth, Rt. That’s all I need here too. But the predator must not exit, stay, we need to balance it out him and us, survivors. He ain’t getting in here, without tripping on something, or leaving behind a clue, something of value, before he exited the scene of the crime, picking up his trophies.

Synthetics never showed up here, like replicants, they never appeared to be of any threat to us. Just good human bipeds developed by Narus bio engineering projects, to benefit man. Much more advanced and powerful than androids or robots, could ever be. But we could tell that they were taking in the programming from our parents. Whatever is out there watching us since the dawn of man, the synthetics are aware of them, true.