They had many eyes, they had no eyes; they had columns and rows and intertwining lines. They were right beside you and on the other side of the galaxy, they were you and not you, they were everything that you knew and everything that you didn't know. They were creatures from beyond, without form or shape and now, at long last, they were coming for Earth.
After years of fruitless searching, humanity had finally found itself in contact with aliens. Or rather, aliens had finally seen it fit to make contact with them.
There was no point to description. Language was a paltry invention, a crude spear that could never match up to the precise, robot-assisted surgical tools needed to accurately put a name to their shifting lines and broken colors, to the way they phased in and out of perception as though they were little more than mirages. These aliens were dreams that could only be remembered in bits and pieces once you woke up, only to dissipate into the darkness of oblivion as the day made itself known.
And in many ways, they may as well have been dreams, for they could only truly manifest themselves within our material plane through the use of dreams. With just a little bit of effort on their parts, they could use those dreams to manifest themselves into the physical world, and if they so desired, they could make the dreams of humanity come true. All it took was reaching out to them, and everything that you could have ever wish for was in your grasp.
Now, what size would these aliens choose to make themselves known in?
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