I was part of a post-alien invasion society. It was a sort of authoritarian village system run on the inside of a highschool in the middle of the country. I don’t think we were even allowed outside. Village gathering places were the gymnasium, cafeteria, assembly hall etc. The alien masters were never seen but gave orders through the class of human collaborators that oversaw the village and ensured productivity and adherence to rules; they were either thugs or insufferable bossy control freaks (one reminded me of the girl in charge of yearbook I had the misfortune of working with at T-School). All the villagers had a job to do, sometimes several, but instructions could come from the top at any time changing this or giving special assignments.
There was a resistance movement. They had agents in the collaborators and used the assignment system to communicate information to fellow rebels. I was one of them, or they assumed that I was. I received an assignment card – a series of words stamped on a small piece of card – that contained a coded message – perhaps simply a vague riddle – telling me to do something or go somewhere to get further instructions. At the time I understood but I have no idea what I was meant to do.
The next thing I remember is feeling the school at night, with a girl, who I held in my arms because she was unconscious. It was an escape attempt that seemed to be taking advantage of pre-existing chaos. The enemy of our enslavers had arrived on earth, and were waging their war on the school compound. I remember running through the tall grass in the field, hearing an explosion behind me and seeing it light the trees ahead. They had fired on the compound. Large shapes rushed past up ahead, perpendicular to my own. These were the indistinct forms of the new invaders. I was terrified but kept on running. I reasoned that they had little interest in humans, to them I was a raccoon scurrying around, not their enemy, not their anything.
The ground began to break. Lava swelled up in strange metre-wide hexagonal patterns. Some sort of geometry bomb had been detonated, converting cold to hot and forcing it to exist in a precise hex grid. The earth warped and buckled as it was forced to accommodate these sudden changes. See below.