▍Alien Implant in the Body and On Earth, Memories of Species Experimented on by Aliens
Alien Implant in the Body
T: One time while meditating on the rooftop, slowly scanning my inner thoughts with each breath, I suddenly sensed something unusual inside me. It felt too foreign. I examined it carefully from different angles and perceptions, and realized: this wasn’t my energy. At first glance, it looked like me, almost perfectly imitated, but it wasn’t. Why was it hidden in my consciousness?
Once I confirmed it was foreign, X immediately went into battle-ready mode and questioned it: X: “Who are you? You don’t seem like a soul or a thought-form. Are you an alien implant? Speak—who are you?”
At first, it pretended not to understand, staying silent. Since I was used to inner observation and always kept communication with my body’s cells, this indifference made it obvious—it was not part of me at all. I pressed harder, shaping my energy into thorns and scalpels against it, warning harshly: T: “If I remove you, I’ll tear you into pieces. I don’t want to use force, unless you leave voluntarily.”
It had been in a dormant state, perhaps hoping to go unnoticed. But I wasn’t polite at all, so it panicked. I felt it stir awake, then nervously said: Implant: “Please don’t do this, we can talk. I’m not a living being. I’m a probe. I won’t harm you.”
T: “Then come out of my consciousness.”
It hesitated, muttering: Implant: “We’re observing human psychology. You’re the first one to notice us...”
T: “I don’t care. Get out.”
I was struggling not to lose my temper, while my team stood guard behind me, worried I might cause collateral damage. Finally, it unwillingly began to detach. It had been nestled beside my heart chakra, so tightly bound that one could mistake it as part of me. Only when I cleansed the chakra did I realize it was unrelated to surrounding energies. Layer by layer, it withdrew from my energy field. I had to admit—it was an impressively sophisticated device, far more subtle than the rigid, metallic alien tech I had learned about from the elders.
Once free, it transformed into a soft pink bubble about the size of two palms pressed together. At its center, a small screen appeared with three blue figures speaking to me: Aliens: “We truly won’t harm you. In fact, we had just entered less than five minutes before you detected us.”
I glanced at my silent team—no one said a word. Growing up meant relying more on myself. After confirming my inner energy was entirely my own again, I asked: T: “Where do you come from? You’re so familiar with human energy—you must have experimented for some time. How many subjects are you observing?”
They projected a star map while replying eagerly: Aliens: “We’ve been on Earth for 62 years. Each probe remains in the body only 1–2 years before dissolving naturally, harmlessly. Right now, about 130,000 humans worldwide are being monitored, mostly practitioners like you. We swear—we don’t alter anything. We only research how your life and spirit interact. Humans are beginning to awaken soul power—it’s fascinating.”
T: “This is illegal. You never got consent.”
Aliens: “But humans can’t see us. How could we ask? You can see us, but we didn’t know that…”
They babbled like children, talking over one another. I finally grabbed a cosmic regulation poster and showed them: T: “See this? Everyone entering Earth is shown this. Rule 23—‘No direct invasive experiments on humans without permission.’ Clear enough?”
Aliens: “But does this count as invasive? Our probes don’t harm the body…”
T (thinking): I almost wanted to throw the device downstairs like a basketball.
Breathing deeply, I steadied myself. They were aliens—arguing was pointless. T: “Just because most humans can’t see you doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want. Close-range observation of body or spirit requires approval. Applications give you protection too. Call the Earth Spiritual Service hotline.”
Aliens: “But we’ve been here so long without problems…”
T: “Penalties don’t arrive instantly. Like speeding tickets, they’re settled later—when you leave Earth, the accounts are collected. If you’ve built up too much debt, you’ll have to reincarnate to repay it.”
At that moment, an elder sent me a note: Elder: “Show them the penalty directly. Otherwise, they won’t believe.”
X read it and smirked: X: “Here’s your fine—for implanting this in me just now.”
I transferred it to their probe, which relayed it to their ship. They gasped: Aliens: “Wow, it really is a fine… and so many!”
T: “That’s just mine. Wait for the rest.”
Sure enough, countless fines rained down like snowflakes onto the probe. Aliens (panicked, crying): “What do we do? How do we pay this?”
T: “Go wash dishes, work it off. Call the hotline.”
Buried under fines, they quickly fled northeast, taking the pink probe back to their ship.
Later, I recalled reading that alien implants often show up in hypnosis regressions. I asked the elder: T: “So every implant needs approval?”
Elder: “Of course. At least with Earth’s department, and the soul’s consent. Without it—heavy fines. Those little ones might be doing a hundred years of volunteer work now. In the spirit world, mistakes must be recognized by oneself. Without consent, it’s a crime. Same for aliens—and even clairvoyants who pry into privacy. Self-discipline and righteousness are essential.”
Since I already knew not to peek into others, I wasn’t worried. But I grumbled: T: “And when I was implanted, none of you said anything…”
Guides (laughing): “Because we knew you’d notice quickly. We wanted to see how long and how you’d handle it. We trust you! You sensed it right away!”
T: “Don’t trust me so much… Should I build some kind of defense net?”
Team: “With so many aliens and tech flying around daily, firewalls would need constant updates. Better to focus on cleansing yourself. If it feels wrong, kick it out.”
T: “Fine. So it always comes back to inner awareness.”
Supplement
T: Once, a friend felt haunted and was terrified. I checked—it was a powerless spaceship. Drawn to my friend’s kind heart and light, they hoped to recharge. But humans don’t normally have extra energy to give, and the aliens feared leaving meant they’d never get home.
I taught my friend to pray and send love. The universe amplified the light through their heart, fully charging the ship. The aliens rejoiced, spinning in circles with gratitude.
So—maintaining kindness and right thought attracts friendly beings. A heart of love is the clearest channel. (Though alien tech varies, not all recharge this way.)
When asked what dimension these aliens were from— T: “Honestly, there are too many star levels to count. Dimensions within dimensions. Instead of focusing on their layer, better to observe their mindset. Intention is what truly matters to the cosmos.”
On Earth, Memories of Species Experimented on by Aliens
Gradually, I began to recall certain things. It turns out that in early human history, I too had once been among those who became experimental subjects of aliens. But rather than simply being a specimen, it was actually I (M) who chose to incarnate as a native species most similar to them, in order to observe their way of thinking. Unfortunately, according to those memories, they also carried strong racial prejudices, believing that only savage souls existed on a savage planet.
Becoming a Subject of S Experiments
I was obedient and learned quickly, so the S who created us liked to take me along to watch their research. They often told me stories of S, about why they created us, and how they hoped Earth would become their second home one day. They promised that when that time came, we natives of Earth would not be mistreated—we would be obedient, clever, and sensitive children, dedicating our lives to serving them, accompanying our creators with love. What could be happier than that? At the time, I truly believed them, since my cognitive structure had been programmed that way.
But no matter how much I learned, I was never truly one of them.
Our batch of experimental subjects failed to develop the superpowers they expected. They themselves possessed strong psychic powers—moving objects with thought, building massive structures, altering environments—but we only learned to gather, hunt, develop basic writing, music, and community concepts. We could not provide real assistance in reshaping the environment.
On S, politics was complex. Different factions were divided by race. The ones who came to Earth to expand were actually from a weaker faction. Since they practiced democracy, numbers and votes determined sovereignty. On their homeworld, population had already reached its limit, and even birth-control measures had begun, leaving no chance for the weaker races to grow in numbers.
Thus, the weaker faction found a key solution: colonize other worlds, build new cities, send their people there to reproduce, and eventually gain enough numbers to secure interstellar political dominance.
So they came to Earth to modify apes—raising their intelligence, making them gentle and obedient, hoping to build pyramids, alter climate, and reshape Earth’s structure so S could settle here.
They gave me many injections designed to awaken psychic powers. But M, in secret, interfered on the spiritual level, preventing me from developing the abilities they expected. So although we were obedient and docile, we never gained the power to move stone blocks or reshape the environment. We were considered failed experiments, destined only for destruction.
I felt like a beloved pet dog. When the experiments did not meet expectations and they prepared to leave, they placed over three hundred of us into long white tubes, dissolving us instantly, without even a moment of pain.
One of my past lives even comforted me: “Don’t be angry, they have their reasons.” But shouldn’t they take responsibility for what they created and raised? Not just abandon us once useless, discard us like failed test projects, and then move on elsewhere. It was heartbreaking and infuriating.
After ending things here, they moved to other environments to start new geomantic experiments, forming human communities again, building pyramids anew. The groups they bred ranged from hundreds to tens of thousands, depending on their experimental scale. The reason humans can reproduce year-round and have constant sexual drive also stems from this—they genetically engineered humans to reproduce as much as possible, so population could quickly reach the scale needed for experiments. That’s why pyramids exist worldwide—abandoned projects from different alien experiments.
And, aliens with political motives to colonize and reshape environments were not only S—they were just one group among many.
Although they interacted closely with us, humans were forbidden from boarding their ships. Because boarding would trigger “information synchronization”—all human habits would be copied into the alien linked to the ship. To S, who had a kind of spiritual cleanliness-obsession, Earthlings were far too barbaric.
Even the most obedient dog is still dirty—it cannot enter the house. What if it spreads fleas? That’s why, before leaving, they euthanized us (humans), to prevent other alien factions from studying us and stealing their technology. By scattering our atoms, no traces would remain. But later, humans resisted, scattered, and multiplied beyond their control.
Even in those final moments, their words were still “filled with love.” They sincerely told us: “We regret this outcome. Thank you for everything you’ve given us. We will never forget you.” (Sending us love). Then they turned on the machines.
Their groups rarely exceeded twenty members and were patriarchal. If experiments failed repeatedly, anger erupted. I even saw male researchers slap and kick female ones. We test subjects, raised to be meek like sheep, were terrified, hiding away. Looking back, perhaps some of their violent tendencies were passed into our modified genes, and Earth amplified them to extremes.
T: Now, looking back at these memories, I can’t help but question... Was that so-called “love” ignorance, or something else? They seemed spiritually transparent, guiltless, almost convincing me to accept destruction willingly: “So I won’t trouble you anymore.”
I feel their “love” was not equality, but attention—valuing us like precious objects. But objects can be recreated. We were not unique. Yet, every farewell was sincere, without guilt, without regret.
To me, love should mean equality, irreplaceability. But their “love” was more like affection for a tool. Tools can be remade. They lacked biological empathy, the ability to truly swap places in understanding.
That’s why I later saw those alien experimenters trapped in Earth’s cycles of reincarnation—reborn as animals or humans, forced to experience empathy. Some have since returned, but some remain as humans.
I also saw why later experiments failed, why humans grew uncontrollable—it was tied to their own spiritual decline, being tainted by Earth’s karmic weight. Those who stayed longed to return home. But since too many S had come here, their families were desperate to retrieve them, sending reinforcements again and again. Yet even the reinforcements carried subconscious prejudice, and they too were trapped. Only through karma and reincarnation, by becoming human themselves, could they learn that racism should never exist.
Still, from what I see, souls with S backgrounds find it extremely hard to rid themselves of that habit. (facepalm)
And these memories differ drastically from the “light and love” alien messages people spread today. Was that official propaganda, or has too much time passed? Reviewing these memories, I can hardly believe them.
What I experienced took place thousands, even tens of thousands of years ago. At that time, humans were barely different from beasts, covered in body hair. Aliens modified our genetics—like implanting engineered embryos into surrogate ancient hominid mothers—producing offspring with little to no body hair. Their female researchers sometimes wore female ape bodies as vessels for the first birthing experiments. These apes were not lab-grown, but captured from the wild. Their original souls were removed, then a female researcher was forced inside. Not always voluntarily—I saw male commanders force female teammates to comply.
The ape body would then “live” again, sustained with beams of alien technology, but inhabited by the consciousness of the researcher, who had to endure impregnation experiments, giving birth to modified human children. They exposed us to beams of light to accelerate growth. They fed us sweet water that kept us nourished for days.
They dressed us in white robes, feather-light, and subjected us to daily light baths—programming us with codes and energy alterations. We were trained to obey, focus on projections to develop psychic powers, repeating the same routines endlessly. Some experiments turned tragic: companions suddenly bled from every orifice, collapsed, or even had brains grotesquely rupture. Drones would disinfect, dissolve remains, and researchers would adjust formulas, then start again. Most of us didn’t even understand what was happening—we just knew to obey, hoping they would love us.
Modern humans’ features, especially those of white people, were modeled after S prototypes. They loved the white-skinned appearance—pure and lofty. Interestingly, they themselves were bald, hairless. Hair was an artificial adornment to them, like a crown. They wanted their human experiments to have abundant hair on their heads, but nowhere else. With injections, they could erase all body hair for life, or even grant immortality. I was beloved enough to receive the “immortality injection,” but in the end, I too was discarded as a failure.
Humans’ year-round sexual drive was also engineered. They created human vessels for sexual interaction. Many aliens, once experiencing physical pleasure, became addicted. I will speak more on this in the next part.
Though they shaped us in their likeness, their true bodies were rounder, softer, elongated but not sharp-featured. From Earth’s perspective, they looked like glowing, tall balloon people.
They explained their bodies lacked lungs and most human organs. Instead, they had a delicate cytoplasmic structure, unknown on Earth. Only on their homeworld could their bodies fully function. On Earth, they had to shut down most systems, running only minimal thought and movement, making them slower than on their planet.
Perhaps their overindulgence in Earth’s sensory pleasures was partly due to this dulling of perception, leading to their downfall—hundreds of research teams trapped in Earth’s cycles of reincarnation.
Becoming a Test Subject of the Arcturians
As for other extraterrestrials, I also have memories of them. For instance, I became a cheetah girl raised by an Arcturian (though I should say it was a highly intelligent, speaking being—very different from wild animals). I called him “Dad,” and I truly loved him.
The Arcturians looked like semi-transparent luminous beings, as if formed by starlight itself. They were very tall. My dad had two companions, one male and one female. The female companion raised a monkey son, while the male companion raised a kind of armadillo-like son.
At that time, however, too many extraterrestrials on Earth were conducting experiments. Some even bred large numbers of test subjects, teaching them to kill or steal other aliens’ test subjects to study their genetic makeup. That armadillo son, raised by my dad’s friend, was killed in this way—his body dismembered. His father cried bitterly. Later, he created a crocodile girl, but the trauma of losing a child was too overwhelming. He no longer had the heart for research and tried to destroy the crocodile girl. But my dad stopped him, and so he took care of her together with me.
I had a very good relationship with my dad. He said he had come to Earth to observe the ecological structure here and to monitor the progress and energetic changes of other alien species. After all, Earth provided an abundance of resources for transformation, and there was concern about the emergence of extremely destructive genetic creations. In short, he created me to test how far my learning ability could reach—that was all.
Because Dad did not eat, he had his own way of replenishing energy—by connecting to his homeworld through the spaceship. But I often still caught small animals to eat. Whenever he saw dead animals, he felt very sad and spoke to me about love for life and told me profound spiritual stories. Deeply moved, I promised never to eat small animals again. But as days passed, I grew weaker and weaker, until I could not even stand. Dad cried, begging me to eat. I stubbornly refused, saying I loved him too much to kill the little animals he cherished.
Silently, Dad walked into the depths of the forest and returned holding a dead python. He had killed it. Blood ran down his hands, staining his energy with darkness. That was karma. My eyes widened in shock. He had once told me he never wanted to be tainted by karma—for once tainted, he might never be able to return home, just like many aliens who were stranded here.
Dad told me to eat the snake. I asked why. He said, “Because I love you, and you need it.” He cried as he held me, and I wept as I ate the snake’s flesh. My health returned. After that, he never again mentioned diet, only asking that I not eat in front of him.
Later, Dad decided to destroy me because of something his female companion had done. She had developed a sexual relationship with her monkey son. Among aliens, sex could happen between friends or partners out of love, with no strict boundaries. But on Earth, sex carried a powerful energetic impact, transmitting not only love but also karma.
In that sense, she was corrupted. She had fallen into a heavier karma than killing—the indulgence in sexual pleasure. Physical sex seemed far more addictive to aliens than spiritual sex. Dad and his male companion realized this was a problem. During nightly meetings aboard their spaceship, Dad could still suppress the killing karma of slaying the snake, because it was done out of love and protection for me. But the female companion was utterly consumed by lust. Since they opened themselves to one another during meetings, the two male researchers were also involuntarily infected by this sexual addiction.
Near the end of my life, I saw Dad stumble down from the glowing ship. Overjoyed, I ran to greet him, but I felt his energy was filled with fear, helplessness, and a powerful hunger—sexual hunger—that stirred my own desire. He looked at me, and I instinctively recoiled, but I tried to stand firm. I wanted to hold onto my love for him. Realizing what thoughts had arisen within him, Dad collapsed in fear, crying, clutching his head, and locking his heart to suppress his impulses. He asked me and the crocodile girl to move away, as the adults had matters to discuss.
The crocodile girl and I had been taught different languages and knowledge, but at that time we could still connect our hearts with Earth, the cosmos, and all beings. I sensed her worries, and she knew my unease. By the riverbank, we spoke of our dads’ strange behavior. Meanwhile, the monkey boy seemed exhausted, though his mother encouraged him to indulge in endless sexual pleasure with her. We did not think sex was evil—after all, we were grown beings—but our lives had been isolated from other species, and we only had the adults around us.
At dawn, Dad and the male companion called us back. Dad looked exhausted. I sensed they had already restrained the female researcher on the ship. We six once shared telepathic connection, and I knew that soon after she was bound, her monkey son was injected with something that killed him. His body lay nearby, to be disposed of later by the male companion. The crocodile girl was summoned by her father, who led her onto the ship. I suspected she too would be injected with something.
Dad hesitated before touching my cheek. He had given me the name “Star” because of my speckled fur. I could feel him suppressing strong sexual urges, but I did not care what he might do—I only loved him. I hugged him tightly, crying with his sorrow.
He said: “Star, I can’t bear to part with you, but I must leave before I make a terrible mistake. You are my most precious daughter, but what I must do now, you may never forgive. I must return home for treatment. I cannot leave you here, because the nearby facilities and those savage species will only hurt you more. I must bring this all to an end.”
He took out a small strip-like object, kissed my face, chest, and heart, and said: “Goodbye, Star. I hope to see you again in the stars someday.”
He placed the strip on my neck. A numbing sensation spread through me. Sleep overtook me. Before drifting away, I licked his face. My soul separated from my body, floating high above. Looking down, I saw Dad cradling my body. He lifted his eyes to my soul, sending me a blessing with a kiss, then staggered back into the ship with my body in his arms.
That was the saddest, yet most love-filled experimental memory I ever had.
Later, recalling it, I desperately reached out to connect with my Arcturian dad. We cried together! But he is still undergoing treatment in his homeland. We could only speak across distance. Even after all this time, they still cannot fully rid themselves of Earth’s karmic influence. It’s so hard for them...
Oh, and back then—there was no moon in the sky. XD
Becoming the Test Subject of Other Star Races
Other memories of being a test subject were even less pleasant. Once, I was a large lizard basking on a tree near the shore, surrounded by insects and birds. Then an indescribable alien appeared—beautiful like a rainbow, yet smoky, with no fixed form. It seemed to pour some kind of energy, as if watering flowers, and this energy greatly increased intelligence.
Suddenly, our minds cleared. We began thinking: Why am I here? Who are those beside me? Wow, we can communicate! We should think about the meaning of life!
But these beings were strict and frightening. They came regularly to patrol and pour energy, flooding us with overwhelming knowledge—mathematics, interstellar concepts, biology, the soul. It was like molten lava being forced into our brains. Many cried in agony. Those who could not endure had their heads burst open and died. Insects and spiders died first. Dragonfly-like creatures lasted the longest, until their heads too exploded. Then birds, and other small animals followed.
Survivors became more intelligent, but still no match for those beings. Fear made us want to escape, but they always found us and forced more energy into us. The pain was unbearable, our pleas useless. It wasn’t learning—it was forced indoctrination.
In the end, only one other lizard and I survived. He was a smaller, humorous fellow. During the final infusion, I received knowledge of galaxies, star routes, and interstellar energy evolution. But suddenly, darkness overtook me—my brain could no longer endure and exploded.
My soul drifted out, hearing their angry complaints before they left in frustration. My companion’s head also burst, but I saw another soul escort him away. My guardian spirit, Jessie, was also there to take me.
Besides these, I had two or three other memories—each ending in destruction. The only difference was how agonizing the process was. There was no warmth, no emotional bond. We were treated as lab rats. Whatever reaction I gave, the experimenters remained indifferent.
Mulo used these incarnations to cycle through different test subjects, observing the aliens’ mindset—who truly loved and protected Earth’s creatures, and who did not. The idea was to select worthy guardians to maintain connection with humanity. But the results were disappointing. Many experiments aimed to produce creations with “absolute obedience.” Yet even in so-called successful cases—humans still retained too much animal nature. With social structures came jealousy, power struggles, and wars. Many aliens were either killed or trapped in karmic entanglements after destroying too many humans.
The Mechanism That Forced Aliens to Stop Public Experiments
Eventually, aliens were banned from openly conducting biological experiments on Earth. In the past, there was no interstellar regulation, so Earth became a battlefield where various aliens set up labs. The Earth-designing team, in another dimension, recorded their actions and intentions. Ultimately, Gaia decided which lifeforms to preserve and gradually drove away unfit alien species, sometimes even binding them into Earth’s reincarnation cycle.
Alien “love” was not always what we imagine. Sometimes, their love extended only to their own kind, not Earth’s natives. That is why regulation became necessary—to stop them from meddling with Earth’s evolution, which was meant to nurture chosen species and civilizations, not serve as an interstellar competition ground.
Life deserves respect, even those that seem wild or unintelligent. Yet some aliens resented being blocked after investing so many resources. Though unable to perceive the higher-dimensional team, they sensed force fields pushing their ships away, leaving only small probes able to enter Earth’s gravity. Still, they schemed to bypass restrictions, trying to reclaim what they thought they owned—often by persuading Earth’s beings to submit to them.
From my perspective now, I want to say this plainly: Do we humans truly take care of ourselves well enough to extend care to others? Have we even managed to care properly for Earth’s existing ecosystems? If not, then we already have countless problems to solve.
When an unknown star race offers us “help,” remember—they are not fools. Sweet words are easy. The truth is always far more complicated than it appears.
In politics, “a thief crying ‘stop thief’” is common. Interstellar civilizations may look refined and benevolent, but they too harbor power struggles and hidden agendas. This is neither good nor bad—it’s simply about perspectives and interests.
Our greatest danger is depending on them, making ourselves vulnerable to control. It’s the same as relying blindly on psychics for enlightenment or using energy healing as a shortcut to life’s problems. Don’t expect others to solve our issues. The best path may be to sustain our own civilization’s growth.
In the end, Earth will choose her own direction. She is not a mute being—she is a higher intelligence with abundant energy. Through climate, disasters, and accidents, she reminds us of unfinished lessons. Our responsibility is to care for this home, Earth.
Earth does not need us. We need her. If we wish to survive, we must show our determination, take responsibility for our lives, and fight for our right to exist.
Posted Aug 23, 2025, 2:27 AM UTC