Welcome Committee from Hell A n yA R u p e Rt They came home to a world they didn’t recognize then found out it had never truly been theirs. Welcome committee from Hell Anya Rupert Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Welcome Committee from Hell Welcome Committee from Hell Anya Rupert Anya Rupert An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Welcome Committee from Hell S tars streaked past like tear-stains across the void. The rustbucket Calypso Belle emerged from warp with a shudder, her panels groaning as if even she had second thoughts. “Systems stable,” rasped Daan Merrik, the ship’s engineer and designated pessimist. “Stable in the way an old man’s knees are stable before rain.” Captain Ilya Vern turned away from the viewport. Her dark eyes, once sharp with hope, were dulled by years of disappointment, loss, and grit. “We made it. Earth.” “Or what’s left of it,” murmured Syra Quinlan, the colony’s last xenobiologist, her tone skeptical. “The planet’s cloaked.” Anya Rupert The cockpit dimmed as scanners kicked in. Holographic projections painted Earth in shades of red and violet. Cities were scarred with blast zones. Oceans churned unnaturally. Orbit was choked with debris, satellites, wreckage, the skeletal remains of once-mighty cruisers. “Wait...” Daan frowned. “That’s not debris.” Syra leaned closer to the glowing projection. “That’s... geometry. Structured. It’s intentional. ” “Intentional like... art?” Daan asked. “No,” Syra whispered. “Intentional like a lock. ” Captain Vern stood up. “Get me the comms array. If anyone survived down there, they’ll be screaming their heads off.” * * * * * * * They didn’t expect anyone to answer. But someone did. A voice crackled through static like silk caught on barbed wire. “Welcome back, Calypso Belle. We’ve been expecting you.” Welcome Committee from Hell The crew froze. Syra blinked. “That was Earth Command. But it was dissolved before we left. That voice can’t be real.” The voice continued. “Please descend to orbital dock Theta-Seven. You are designated ‘prime assets.’ Decontamination will begin upon arrival.” Daan paled. “ Decontamination? ” “I don’t like this,” Vern muttered. “I liked it better when we were dying slowly on New Eden. At least the sun didn’t talk to us there.” “But if there’s any chance survivors need help...” Syra’s voice broke. The decision was made with the kind of silence that crushes bones. * * * * * * * Descending through Earth’s atmosphere should’ve felt nostalgic. Instead, it was like threading a needle through a haunted forest. Clouds shimmered. Reality bent. Mountains rippled like mirages. Buildings flickered, then vanished. Anya Rupert “Reality’s malfunctioning, ” Syra hissed, scanning frantically. “Topography’s inconsistent. Something’s rewriting physics.” They landed in the remains of Johannesburg, what was once a bustling city now looked like a sculpture made by someone who’d only read about Earth in a fractured poem. Waiting for them was a figure. Not a soldier. Not a survivor. Something that looked human, but the proportions were wrong, fingers too long, spine too straight. Its eyes were black pools, reflecting stars that shouldn’t exist. “Welcome,” it said, smiling too wide. “You are the last. The loop completes.” Captain Vern stepped forward, hand on her pulsepistol. “Who are you?” “I am the Custodian, ” it replied. “We were sent to your world to accelerate its integration. But the system proved... incompatible.” Welcome Committee from Hell “Integration into what? ” Daan snapped. The Custodian tilted its head. “Into consensus reality.” Syra’s breath caught. “They’re not just manipulating our world. They’re changing the rules beneath it.” “We resist,” Vern growled. “You will, ” the Custodian agreed. “But not for long. You were allowed to leave New Eden so you could witness this end. Observe the extinction of subjective autonomy.” Daan raised his pistol. “We’re not going down without a fight.” The Custodian didn’t flinch. Instead, the ground behind it rippled. Shapes emerged, twisted remnants of people, infected by abstract concepts. One had a head made of cascading musical notes, another walked backwards while screaming into time loops. “Consciousness is clay,” the Custodian said. “We are the potters.” Vern fired. Anya Rupert The blast passed through the Custodian’s chest, no blood, no flesh. Just light. A scream echoed across dimensions, shrill and alien. The thing staggered. For a moment, its form flickered, its face becoming someone familiar to each of them, someone lost. Vern saw her brother. Syra saw her mother. Daan saw himself, older, screaming. “ Stop! ” Syra shouted, clutching her head. “They’re using our memories. Feeding on identity.” Daan grabbed her shoulder. “Then let’s give them nothing. ” * * * * * * * They ran. Down twisted streets where time ran backward, through buildings that wept salt, past people frozen mid-breath. Signals blared from the sky: “Unity is identity. Identity is illusion. We free you.” They reached the remnants of an old orbital cannon array, defunct, obsolete, mostly buried. “We need a jump point,” Vern gasped. “If we can overload the array, we might punch a hole through this corrupted layer, get a signal out.” Welcome Committee from Hell “Or blow ourselves into abstract art,” Daan muttered, wrenching open a panel. Syra started splicing wires. “I’m betting on entropy. The Custodians can’t predict chaos.” The Custodian’s voice echoed through the ruined city. “There is no outside. There is only convergence. You will join. ” “No thanks,” Vern snapped, slamming the override. The cannon roared to life. Electricity surged up the spine of Earth’s forgotten defenses. The sky split. A window opened. Through it: stars, real stars, not the imitations above Earth. “Ilya!” Syra shouted. “NOW!” Vern threw the switch. Reality screamed. * * * * * * * Anya Rupert And just like that... Nothing. No light. No dark. No Earth. Just... A blinking message light on a long-dead console. TRANSMISSION LOST. PRIME ASSETS: ERASURE CONFIRMED. INTEGRATION SUCCESSFUL. NEXT SEED COLONY: PENDING. [END FILE - GALACTIC RECORD ARCHIVE #000293-VOID] NOTE: Request for reevaluation of Utopian Colonization Initiative currently denied. Welcome Committee from Hell Welcome Committee from Hell Anya Rupert Ovi eBook Publishing 2025 Ovi magazine Design: Thanos Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Anya Rupert A n yA R u p e Rt They came home to a world they didn’t recognize then found out it had never truly been theirs. Welcome committee from Hell Anya Rupert , marketing maven and a sci-fi dreamer, channels her inner Spock while crafting captivating campaigns. A self-proclaimed Trekkie finds inspiration for her own out-of-this-world adventures in the vast expanse of the final frontier, proving that logic and a healthy dose of imagination can conquer any marketing challenge and maybe even a few alien ...invasions.