Crossover between [Scorch Directive](https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1ks2kk6/scorch_directive_ficlet_01/) by me and [Threads in the Fabric](https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1ke73hm/threads_in_the_fabric_prologue/) by [u/Quinn\_The\_Fox](https://www.reddit.com/user/Quinn_The_Fox/)

>Summary: Scorch Directive soldier gets isekai'd into a canon adjacent timeline, with all the trouble this entails. It's up the local Not-Time Cops to solve the situation before it gets out of hand.

As usual thanks to spacepaladin15 for creating NoP. We ran out of budget for the art so have a meme instead!

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[Comic page test](https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1oea0va/scorched_threads_test_page/)

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**Memory Transcription Subject:** UN Secretary-General Elias Meier  
 **Date \[Standardized Human Time\]:** July 13, 2136

The climate summit had crawled past the six-hour mark, its familiar carousel of pledges and counter-arguments drifting together into a numbing haze. Fusion credits, carbon deadlines, disaster relief—every delegate spoke as though practice had worn their lines smooth. I’d resigned myself to another predictable day when my aide slipped to my side and murmured that I was needed in the secure briefing room *immediately.*

That word still had the power to pry my pulse awake.

The room was already full when I arrived. Generals from half a dozen nations stood alongside NASA and ESA directors, a few SETI researchers, and analysts whose faces I only saw during crises. A single folder lay centered on the table, stamped with NASA’s crest: **ODYSSEY - DEBRIEF I.**

I sank into the chair at the head of the table. “All right,” I said. “What’s happened?”

Dr. Kuemper stepped forward, her expression caught between excitement and dread. “Sir… the Odyssey made contact. With intelligent extraterrestrials.”

For a moment I only stared at her, trying to align the sentence with my expectations. Then she handed me the folder. Inside was a photograph: the Odyssey crew standing beside creatures out of a dream woolly, with narrow limbs and enormous, side-facing eyes.

“The species calls themselves the *Venlil*,” Kuemper said, her voice steadying as she slipped into the rhythm of a practiced report. “They’re part of a larger political body called the *Federation*, comprised of hundreds of sapient species. Their governor, Tarva, is the one who initiated contact and gave us this information.”

I leafed through the dossier again, trying to absorb the implication. Hundreds of species. Organized. Spacefaring. Watching us.

“And this Federation is… friendly?” I asked.

Kuemper hesitated. “No, only the Venlil I’m afraid. In their evolutionary history, the only other intelligent predators they’ve ever encountered are a species called the *Arxur*.”

She brought up a tablet, displaying images I wished I could unsee: reptilian forms tearing through cities, starships firing on fleeing civilians, atrocities beyond even the worst human wars.

“They destroyed sixty-two worlds,” she said quietly. “The Venlil feared our astronauts were Arxur in disguise. Governor Tarva intervened before things escalated.”

The weight of that settled slowly across the table. I closed the folder and folded my hands. “So we walked into the galaxy categorized as predators. And we nearly triggered a war because the only precedent they have for a predator civilization is… monsters.”

“That is the challenge before us.” Kuemper drew a careful breath. “The Venlil are willing to work with us. But the Federation as a whole may be difficult. They may see humanity as a potential Arxur equivalent.”

A wave of conversation broke across the room: diplomatic strategies, defense concerns, media containment. I raised a hand, and the noise softened.

“All right,” I said. “This is enormous. Difficult, but monumental. If the Venlil are extending a hand, we meet them with our best selves. We show them who we are.”

Kuemper nodded. “There is one more matter, sir. Something… unusual.”

General Jones slid a second, slimmer folder toward me. Unlike the first, this one bore no insignia, only a red stripe and the label **ANOMALOUS DATA.** Inside lay a summary page, a cryovial photograph, and Dr. Sara Rosario’s precise signature.

**Human DNA, collected without consent.**

I looked up. “Explain.”

Kuemper’s tone softened, as though she wished she could choose gentler words. “During the meeting with the Governor, an injured human mysteriously appeared inside Tarva’s mansion. He introduced himself as Anton Van Hecke, some soldier from a “Terran Armada”. He collapsed on the spot and was brought the Odyssey, but it gets even weirder…” 

“Go on General, I’m listening.” I said.

“Dr. Rosario then was contacted by a strange vessel called the Forerunner. The pilot introduced herself as Keane Foxx. This unknown woman offered to heal the mystery soldier aboard her own ship. Then, crafty as always, Dr. Rosario obtained a small blood sample while treating him. Shortly after, their ship vanished from every detectable sensor. Before leaving, the pilot claimed this man was… displaced in time.”

A hush fell across the room.

“We have recordings,” she added.

The lights dimmed, and the projector hummed to life. The feed showed the Odyssey medbay, washed in emergency lighting. A massive soldier lay on a cot, armor plates scorched and dented. When the visor was removed, several people in the room inhaled softly. His eyes reflected the light like a nocturnal animal’s. Bright gold, unnervingly sharp. His face was unmistakably human, yet the proportions carried a predatory intensity that set every instinct on edge.

Later frames showed him partially unarmored during treatment. Even through grainy footage, the musculature looked engineered. Too dense, layered, impossible without catastrophic strain on the heart. When he spoke, the edge of elongated canines flashed. Claws protruded from each fingertip. Brown, hooked and very sharp.

He looked human only in the way a sculpture resembles its model: recognizable, but heightened to a degree that suggested deliberate shaping.

The feed froze. Someone whispered a quiet curse.

Kuemper returned to the front. “The genomic analysis confirms human origin. But it includes several engineered insertions regulatory genes borrowed from other primates, modifications for enhanced muscle fiber density, reinforced bone structure, adaptive retinal layering. Advanced, but still within theoretical capability. Nothing alien. Just… far beyond anything that should exist.”

I let that settle. First aliens. Then a man built like a weapon. Then the suggestion of time displacement, unlikely as it was, had me on edge.

“All right,” I said at last. “Publicly, we reveal the Venlil contact exactly as presented. No mention of this second folder. Privately, this sample stays under restricted biological classification. Establish a small task group of trustworthy researchers only. Their work remains off-book and under UN oversight.”

General Zhao frowned. “And if this ‘Anton’ truly came from our future?”

I looked at the frozen image on the screen, those reflective eyes staring back into a civilization that had no idea he existed.

“ We'll have to check all the recordings. But if it is true, then perhaps the future is already reaching for us,” I said. “Let’s make sure we don’t meet it blindly.”

The room emptied gradually, conversations muted, thoughtful. But I stayed a moment longer.

The soldier’s face still glowed faintly on the screen, caught mid-turn, eyes burning gold. Down on the table, the genome printout showed human sequences nudged and sculpted into something stronger, familiar enough to ground us, and different enough to unsettle.

“First aliens,” I murmured, “now ghosts from tomorrow.” Outside the window, Earth drifted through her quiet dusk, blissfully unaware that everything had just changed.

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A/N: Just a lil' chapter today

Scorched Threads 5/?