In their world, they were shown, from the time they were very small, movies where aliens of all sizes and shapes were killers. Taking children and eating them, powerful, cunning, and deadly. Their world, gone now due to a planet-killing radiation storm thanks to an unstable sun, never prepared them, and all the others, from child to adult, for being around actual aliens. The therapist teams had a lot of work ahead of them. -- Anon Guest
There were halls upon halls of identical houses. Not the kind Jorn was used to at all. They were used to bright ochre plaster and gentle, handmade curves. This place had too many bare, flat planes.
The houses were the same on the inside. A space for seating, a table, some shelves. A space on one side with niches and enclosures and a seat with... a lid? The space on the other side was... artificial outdoors. Plants from Jorn's neighbourhood, true, but the weeds and the food plants and the decorative ones were all smashed together as if someone had done it in a hurry.
Families found each other, having been herded into the gigantic boxes of ships by the frightening beings in heavy armour. They were capturing everything, even the pests. And in a situation where the sun was visibly growing and throwing off chunks, even an alien invasion looked good. Jorn ran, with all the others, and was now trying to find their friend groups, family, and some level of familiarity.