Silence reigned over the three newly made corpses.

But my work wasn't done quite yet.

I recoalesced back inside my stolen clothing, a tendril bringing 'Jefe's' still unlocked phone into a waiting nitrile glove inflated with my gaseous form.

Let's see what horseshit you're into "boss".

The man's contact list was staggering. I scrolled past hundreds of individual text conversations. Fortunately, most of them contained roughly the same subject matter "Meet me at 'the place' to report". While annoyingly unhelpful, it was understandable. No paper trail, no evidence for a courtroom. But still, it was almost insane just how many people the guy was in contact with. I had thought Juan had been a lowly grunt or a soldier, but if 'Jefe' was in contact with so many people, and if this gang followed any sort of organizational chart, Juan was probably closer to a middle manager then anything. Which meant 'Jefe' was up near the top of the hierarchy.

After all, someone had to keep track of all the individual branches in the gang.

Strange that he was so close though... Almost convenient even. Unless I was mistaken with my assessment and the gang was just that absurdly large.

One conversation did stand out however.

In fact, the opposite side of that particular conversation texted 'Jefe's' phone as I scrolled through.

I need an update Marco!

Marco? Was that 'Jefe'?

I scrolled through 'Jefe's'/ Marco's conversation with "Vendedores del Diablo"

I didn't speak Spanish, but I certainly knew what "diablo" meant.

Someone was clearly compensating for something.

I can see that your reading my texts!

Answer me!

Hmm. What to do?

I'm talking to Juan rn.

Send.

Bullshit! I'm the motherfucking vendedores del diabol! I'm more important than any retarded grunt too stupid to avoid the feds! YOU TALK TO ME

Touch a nerve did I?

Well good news 'Diablo', I'm here to remove all your worries.

How am I supposed to tell you what's going on if I don't know myself?!

Send.

Oh that was probably a bit too mouthy. Oh well.

Who is this?! Marco would never talk back to me! Answer me you little shit!

Defiantly too mouthy. Ah well, the jig was up.

Marco isn't available right now.

I hesitated over the send button, but pushed it anyway, curious where I could take this.

You kill Marco? Fucking puta! Ill skin and kill your entire family!

I couldn't help but reflexively attempt the motions to snort aloud, but it didn't have the same effect while under the effects of gaseous form.

Ha. Believe me when I say, "I'd like to see you try."

Send.

A string of rapid expletives in various languages followed.

Temper temper.

Oooh, was there a finger wag emoji? No? Ah well. Laughing while crying face will work.

Send.

The difference is I get angry over actually upsetting things, not over someone else's opinion.

Then they can get in line behind me.

Where are you you son of a whore?!

I'm coming to kill you myself!

Bingo.

I turned back to Juan's phone and pulled up the Maps app again. The strange address was still selected, a large blue button with a pictogram of a simplistic car with a "10 min" underneath seemed to beckon "Push me push me!"

I ignored the button and went to the upper left corner, searching for the street view function. Options at the bottom of the screen popped up. Explore, driving, transit, and satellite! There that one! I clicked the satellite button. The on screen map disappeared, a blank canvas of grey grids replacing it. A moment later, the app reloaded the same address, this time showing a bird's eye view of the immediate area around the address.

Eh, good enough.

I pinched the screen to zoom in, trying to get a good look at the property I was suspicious of. It was definitely in a secluded neighborhood, with abnormally large buildings that were far too unique to be a mass produced corporate buildings.

It was the neighborhood of rich people who could afford to buy their own property, and then build a dream home large enough to house their entire extended family twice removed.

Why was such an address in a thug's phone? Was it the future site of a robbery? Was it the home of one of the gang's customers?

Was it the home of the "Don"?

One thing for sure, the police would swarm the area to protect the "well-to-do's" with the weight of a small army if a Karen started screaming about armed thugs in her yard.

And the chaos would be perfect to cover my tracks.

I manually punched the address into the Messenger app on 'Jefe's' phone.

Look familiar? I'll be there within the hour.

Send.

You're a dead mother fucker.

Yeah... If only I were so lucky.

With nothing more to do, I pressed the blue button on Juan's old phone, which blurred back to what I assumed was my position, a blue line crossing over a portion of the street, leading into the distance. Not interested in speaking with "Diablo" anymore, I tossed Marco's phone back onto the man's cooling chest, abandoning it for the police to find. I then left the alleyway, hidden by my puppeted clothes.

A few of the men I assumed were gang members in the Mexican restaurant seemed antsy, occasionally glancing out the window towards the alley where Marco had disappeared into. Evidently, Diablo's control over his gang was not as absolute as he imagined, because they made no move or indication that they knew Marco was now dead. No, they were still expecting him to walk back out of the alley with more of their friends in tow. Maybe they'd then have a taco and a beer, and good times would be had over laughing how stupid the feds were. The world would be perfect in their minds. They were among the powerful, drinking and having a good time, safe in the knowledge they could do literally anything with impunity.

But Juan, Marco, and who ever those unnamed goons were, would never be laughing again.

Their voices were now forever silenced. Just like all of their victims before today.

And I got to add another stain to my soul.

I walked away from the brightly lit restaurant, leaving its occupants to their fate of wondering what had happened to their friends and colleagues. Would they give into curiosity and go into the alleyway themselves? Would they call the police? Or would they leave the bodies for some innocent to find in the morning?

Did it matter?

No matter how one looked at it, I had killed them. I had killed them for my own benefit. I had judged them, I had found them guilty and I killed them for it, all for my own benefit. And I wasn't even close to being done. More blood would be shed tonight, and the pile of bodies I stood on would grow even-

Juan's old phone began to buzz incessantly. Not like someone was calling, but like the phone had suddenly decided to play every ringtone and alarm it held in its memory at the same time. Or at least it tried to.

I opened the phone and scanned through the notifications, many of which were text messages.

Holy shit Juan are you seeing this?!

Dios Mio Juan! Turn on the tv now!!!!

It's happened! It's finally fucking happening!!1!

What the-?

An Apple news alert caught my attention as surely as if the Abrahamic god himself had jumped out of the nearby bushes and had decided to bitch slap me across the face before running away, screaming into the night like a hobo high on cocaine and bath salts.

Apple News Alert! Pentagon has confirmed extraterrestrial contact! Alien Representative already on Earth!

My heart did what I was certain was several backflips all performed on a rollercoaster that was nothing but loop-de-loops.

There was no way...

No fucking way...

I opened the phone properly and pulled up the Youtube app.

The State of the Union from earlier! That's what it was about! Surely someone had a recording of-

Number one in Juan's suggested videos list. Already at millions of views despite only being minutes old.

And there she stood in the thumbnail. Behind a podium that bore the crest of the United States Presidency. The unmistakable generic hallway of the white house behind her. The red banner of CNN covered the lower third of the image.

A blue nitrile glove that I was absolutely certain belonged to another person reached over the phone and tapped the video.

Youtube took a moment to buffer, but it wasn't long before the video started. At first it showed a man in a decorated military uniform, already mid-speech.

"-But there comes a time in all of our lives when we ask ourselves. Are we alone? When we look up at the stars and wonder if anything is looking back." the man paused, letting his premade speech pause for dramatic effect, but taking the opportunity to drink from a water bottle. "Well today my fellow Americans, I have the answer. As of three days ago, the Forces of the United States Military made contact with a being that is not of this Earth. Thankfully, despite tensions at the time, a cease-fire was negotiated. It was agreed, between all parties involved, that secrecy would be in no one's best interest, due to circumstances surrounding the event. So I present to you, my fellow Americans and watchers from abroad, Princess Celestia of Equestria." The man backed away from the podium, sweeping his arms as if to present a new speaker. And indeed, the new speaker appeared from behind a curtain to the side. Gone was her armor and weapons, instead she was clad in only her gleaming crown and peytral, her hooves adorned with ornamental shoes.

The crowd in the video gasped as they first beheld her, utterly beyond their imaginations of little green men in silver onsies. Celestia, for her part, calmly nodded towards the crowd of reporters and cameras, taking the podium abandoned by the man who must've been a general.

"Greetings everyhuman." she began loudly and clearly. "I am Princess Celestia, ruler of a distant land known as Equestria. And I know you all must have many questions." she smiled easily, like a mother prodding their hesitant child to go play. Instantly, every reporter raised their hands, desperate to get the first question. Celestia glanced over the crowd, before pointing with a hoof. "I believe I saw your limb go up first." she called. The lucky reporter stood up.

"CNN. Katie Hoffspetter. What are your intentions for the Earth?" the woman asked.

"As of right now, I currently have no intentions involving Earth or any of the people that call it home. However I look forward to starting official relations and starting embassies if I'm allowed." Celestia replied easily. "Next question? Ah, you there." she pointed at another reporter.

"Robert Cline. Fox News. How long have you known of Earth and have you visited before?" the new reporter asked.

"I can say with certainty, my nation has had no prior contact with any nation on Earth than our meeting three of your days ago." Celestia pointed to another reporter. "Next question please?"

"Maggie Smith. Times Magazine. You say you've never had any contact with Humans before, so how and why are you here?"

At this Celestia froze, her eyes glassy and far away.

"That's... That's a long story." she said finally. "I do suppose I owe it to you. For transparency's sake if nothing else." At this Celestia drew in a slow breath. "Long ago, I- I made a mistake." she began. "I pushed away somepony I loved when I should've embraced her. And we- we came to blows."

Even through the recording, I could see tears welling in her eyes.

"She ran. She ran farther away than I could've ever dreamed of. She had run so far and for so long she crossed the sea between stars by herself with nothing but the wings on her back." Celestia ruffled her wings as if gesturing that they were, in fact, functional. "It wasn't until very recently, a few weeks at most, that we received a... A signal, for a lack of a better term. Unmistakably hers and alive." At this, Celestia smiled through her welling tears. "We've advanced a lot since my sister left us. It was difficult to triangulate her location, and even harder to bridge the gap, but I put my best Ponies on the job. We didn't know what awaited us on the other side, a barren rock or wild jungle. So I prepared a... Taskforce as you would call it. But I needed to take the risk to find my sister. Little did I know, she's been hiding here for... Sometime according to your military."

Silence seemed to reign.

The silence was broken by the Fox News reporter raising his hand again.

"How do you know your... Sister is here on Earth?" he asked. "Surely it's possible there's been a mistake? After all, you said it yourself, we've never encountered each other before last week."

"Absolutely certain." Celestia nodded. " Even if I didn't trust my little ponies... I've already seen her. She is here. Hiding, and afraid, but she is here."

Silence reigned once more as the information soaked itself into the collective consciousness of those present.

Eventually the CNN reporter raised her hand again.

"What- What would you say to your sister if she were here, right now, and watching?" she asked.

The question seemed to take Celestia aback.

"I-" she stammered. "I would say I'm sorry." she closed her eyes, but it was plain to see tears were falling. "I'm sorry for everything."

The video wasn't done, but I closed the app and put the phone to sleep.

*Popcorn munching*