Chapter 3: Endangered and Adored

They’d been here two weeks before I showed up.

They’d figured out more than I had.

This was Earth, technically, but not our Earth. Not anymore.

Aliens—giant insectoids—ran everything now. Humans, once everywhere, were almost extinct. Top-tier protected species under new management.

And the favorites of our insect overlords.

Barely a hundred humans left in the world, all locked in a kind of gilded prison.

Protected by every means the Federation had.

I must’ve looked lost, because the academic slacker snorted, flicking a Cheez-It crumb off his jeans: "Think about how bald eagles used to get the royal treatment. That’s us now—one step below, nobody above."

Student council rep tried to reassure me: "Seriously, it’s not so bad—they won’t hurt us. We were all scared for you. Glad you made it."

They’d spent weeks learning to read the bug-people’s moods, picking up on patterns, guessing their intentions.

It paid off—they got special treatment, VIP status, five-star pampering. Everyone strutted around feeling like reality TV celebrities.

The student council rep grinned: "With the way they keep tabs on us—and how hyped they are—I bet there’s fewer humans than there ever were bald eagles. Derek says three thousand, class prez says a thousand, Natalie claims eight hundred. What do you think, Aubrey?"

I just shook my head—no clue.

Glancing back, I saw the insectoid who brought me in—still rocking those heavy gloves, tidying up, sneaking looks at me.

For a second, I caught something almost human in those eyes—worry? Could an insectoid even feel that?

Was it actually concerned for us, the last of our kind?

It sounded ridiculous. For five million years, humans adapted, dominated, wiped out most other mammals and half the planet’s plants. We were the bosses.

Now, a thousand years later, we’re the endangered ones.

Endangered?

Suddenly, I remembered those strange-looking people outside the base—their faces off, like that infamous Kentucky inbreeding documentary I’d seen on TV. Kids born with all kinds of health issues—faces warped, eyesight gone, speech impossible.

Were those...?

The thought hit like a bucket of ice water.

My classmates kept bantering.

Academic Slacker: "Bro, this is the dream—no 9-to-5 grind, all-you-can-eat, hot showers, lobster, cupcakes, no rent."

Class President: "Central air, waterbed, pool, seventy-eight degrees always."

Queen Bee: "Ugh, enough already with the staring. Get a grip!"

But I was the only one who felt that creeping dread, my mouth dry, tongue stuck. My heart thumped like a warning drum nobody else could hear.

Guys—

You’re forgetting: as endangered species, we’re not just loved. We’re bred. Over and over, until we’re nothing but pets in a golden cage.