by I'm Not Mister Mxypltk
After a long walk, M'xy reached his destination, the Lake Michigan shore a few miles from downtown Chicago. He looked around as he said to himself: "The place where they gather... the place where they gather..."
Then he saw a little log house near the docks on the edge of the woods. "AHA!" he said, pointing at it. He walked to the little house, saying, "From how they described it, you'd think the place would be bigger... But they were never good at describing 3-D things."
Inside the house, a short and stocky old man with a thick brow and long white hair circling a bald crown sat on a chair as if waiting, when the door opened itself. The figure of a man with a coat and a big top hat and light in his eyes appeared behind the door.
"My name is M'xy," the man said, "and I'm here to help you overcome the invasion."
The old man smiled. "Uh..." he says. "You've got the wrong address, son."
"But... this is the location they gave me."
The old man shrugged, still smiling slightly. "Sorry, but I'm the only one here, and I don't know anything about an invasion."
"Damn it! They think they are so good, and they can't even give me a location in a simple 3-D plane! Wait, wait... you say you don't know about any invasion?"
"Nope."
"Now that I think about it, all the human beings I have encountered don't seem too worried about the invasion, either. Hmmm... Excuse me for a moment, okay?"
M'xy closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the light coming from them was gone. He yelled, "GET OUT OF MY--"
He looked around, disoriented. "What the fuck? Oh, no! Not again!"
A voice in his head asked him, "Say, Mick, do you happen to know anything about any invasion to this dimension?"
The old man watched, intrigued.
"INVASION? What the fuck are you talking about?! GET OUT OF MY BODY, WILL YOU?!" Mick answered.
"So, no invasions?" the voice asked again.
"NOOOOO! NOW GET--"
M'xy closed his eyes again, shook his head, and reopened them.
"You were right. There is no invasion. How is that possible?"
"Well, not that I know much about this kind of thing, but..." the old man said, "...maybe you landed in the wrong year, son. You come from the future, don't you? Maybe this invasion hasn't happened yet."
"'Future'? What do you mean, 'hasn't happened yet'?"
"Maybe your bosses sent you to the wrong year, friend."
"Wrong year? Wait, wait... Oh, of course!" he said. "Linear timelines! You humans have events ordered chronologically! When the invasion starts, only the moments 'AFTER' it will be affected!"
"See? I told you!"
"Do you know a place where I can take a transportation to a precise moment of the... 'future'?"
"You mean like a time machine? Nope, haven't done those yet. We've got cell phones, though."
"Damn it... several units of time could pass before the invasion starts... and only then I could act."
"Well, ask your bosses to send you to the right time, then!"
"I can't! I can't come back home until I have completed my mission!"
"Oh, that is a shame, son."
"What will I do in the meantime?"
"Well, you could travel... they say Paris is lovely in this time of the year."
"I must stay here... I have been told that those that I will help will be here."
"Well then, stay! This is a wonderful city, you know! And you'll always be welcomed here, if you need a place to stay!"
"Well... thank you for your help, kind sir. You have my eternal gratitude. I guess I will just hang around until I'm needed. Goodbye!"
"Bye-bye..." said the old man, as M'xy closed the door behind him, "...you raving lunatic." The very old man then began to chuckle. He did not stop for a very long time.
"Well," said M'xy, "I guess I will just give good ol' Mick his body back, and stay alert in case something happens."
Once again, he closed his eyes, and when they were reopened, Mick was back in charge of the body.
"--BODY NOW!" He noticed he was now outside the house. "Oh, motherfucker!"
Then he realized he couldn't feel M'xy inside his head anymore. "Oh, thank God."
And then he was knocked down by a man in a black suit, and taken to a van. "Why me?" he would have said, if he'd been conscious.