THE PENTAGON – EARTH, 2021
The flickering of cameras was relentless. Flashes burst like artificial lightning across the courtyard, each one a jarring pulse that forced many of the Astra Militarum soldiers present to avert their eyes. Unfamiliar with these primitive contraptions, some clenched their jaws and shifted uneasily, hands brushing the grips of their weapons. Were it not for the composure of Envoy Varr and the Sisters beside him, they might have judged the display a veiled attack.
"On behalf of my fellow earthlings, I welcome you to Earth, and to the United States of America," General Caldwell said, his voice steady, though it carried the strain of measured diplomacy.
Earth? Varr's brow furrowed briefly, confusion biting at him. The word gnawed at his thoughts, but he buried the curiosity, as he had been trained. His orders were clear.
He regarded Caldwell, his tone direct and unadorned.
"Take us to your planet's governor. We bear words of diplomacy from Lord Maloris."
The envoy's lack of subtlety was not rudeness, but necessity—he had not been briefed on the shifting courtesies of a fractured world still bound to its soil.
Caldwell blinked, then gave a cautious smile. "Uh… I don't know what a planetary governor is. This country does have a governor, yes, but not in the sense you mean. If you don't mind, I'll need to request directives from my superiors."
Varr inclined his head, the gesture curt but respectful.
The general stepped aside, retrieving a secure military phone. Those assembled could hear nothing of the hushed conversation, but all present knew the truth—politicians had already been watching from the hidden chambers of the Pentagon. Indeed, the entire world had seen.
For the first time, humanity was not alone.
Now that it was clear the strangers bore no immediate malice, Earth's leaders had a narrow path to navigate.
Terra remains in its infancy, Varr mused as he waited. The stars lie bare before them, yet they squabble over soil and resources, dividing themselves into countless domains. Their machine-spirits are primitive, their governments fractured. No Supreme Command, no Throne.
It was not long before Caldwell returned, his composure steadier now.
"The President has agreed to meet you," he said, his smile carefully chosen. By order, he was to escort them himself. The burden was his—to be the first to speak for Earth to these… beings.
He gestured toward the Pentagon in the distance. "This way. The President and his Cabinet await inside. They have been watching."
Varr gave a solemn nod and advanced, walking alongside the general. The flashes of the cameras did not abate; if anything, they intensified, frantic to capture every instant.
The Militarum troopers moved instinctively to follow, but the Sisters of Silence raised their hands in silent command. The soldiers hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances through their mask lenses. Some wore simple rebreathers, not against the air itself—for the planet's biosphere was stable—but against the possibility of pathogens long extinct in the Imperium, alien now to the physiology of mankind's far-future heirs. Fear of contamination was bred into them as doctrine, not weakness.
The Sisters themselves went unmasked, their null-presence more than armor enough against such trifles. Silent, impassive, they fell in behind Envoy Varr.
The American troops, bewildered but disciplined, quickly arranged their lines, parting to clear a path.
And still, the flashing lights did not cease.
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DC EARTH – 3000 BC
The sun was high. Helios rode his steeds across the heavens, guiding the blazing chariot of day. Yet the glory of Apollo's sky was dimmed, for the firmament above Athens was blackened.
Parademons filled the skies.
With relentless vigor, they poured from the clouds like rain. Their wings beat the air in a storm of terror, their screeches splitting heaven itself. They besieged every place where life dared stir—hovels, markets, temples, and ships alike. no mortal escaped their gaze.
Their master had deemed it so.
Athens, City by the Sea
Athens, young yet proud, rose along the Aegean coast. Its harbors bustled with fishing vessels and traders' galleys, while the narrow streets of mudbrick and early stone climbed toward the Acropolis. There, unfinished temples crowned the hilltop like jagged teeth of marble, their columns gleaming pale against the sky.
But the city's pride was its undoing.
Mortals fled in terror as parademons descended upon them. They stumbled across shattered roads, clambered over broken walls, their cries swallowed in the roar of fire.
WHOOOSH—KRAAAASH!
The heavens rained flame.
Above, a metallic demon hung in the sky—vast, incomprehensible, one of Darkseid's war engines. Its belly spat fire, its beams cutting across the city in torrents of destruction. Columns splintered, roofs collapsed, and homes became pyres.
This was one of many nations now scarred by the tyrant's conquest. Darkseid had sworn to tear this world apart until the Old Ones themselves faced his terror. And so he did.
Athens crumbled.
The hoplites—the city's strength—were gone.
What remained were stragglers, the old, the untrained. They tried to fight—shaking spears, raising shields—but they were no match for flame and winged horrors. Their resistance was scattered, broken, drowned in the storm of invasion.
At the edge of the Agora, half-hidden between a collapsed stall and the burned wall of a storehouse, stood a peasant's shed. Its walls were rough mudbrick, its roof reeds bound in clay. Smoke and sparks pressed through its cracks, stinging the eyes of those who huddled within.
A woman crouched in the darkest corner.
Her dress, once a simple peplos, hung in tatters—scorched, torn, clinging to her body in strips of ash-stained cloth. Her face was streaked with dirt, her cheeks carved with the dried trails of endless tears. In her hair, blood crusted thick, stiffening the strands into knots.
She had cried until no more tears would fall. What remained was hollow despair.
Her body trembled, but she dared not move. Smoke choked her throat, each breath scraping raw, yet still she stayed. For behind her, clutching what was left of her garment, hid two children. Tiny hands gripped her sides, their faces buried into her back, their noses running from fear.
She would not move. For to move was to expose them. Exposure meant death.
Her gaze fixed on the crack in the door.
Outside, shadows passed—winged horrors sweeping overhead. One lingered close. Its talons clicked against stone. KLOK—KLOK—KLOK. The sound moved back and forth, pacing, hunting. A guttural snarl rattled the silence.
Hhhrrrrrk.
She did not breathe. Her eyes, wide and glassy, locked ahead. Beyond the demon, she saw a body sprawled on the road. It was mutilated beyond recognition—limbs torn, face shredded—but still she stared, mind blank. Was it her husband? A neighbor? A stranger? It did not matter. Death was everywhere.
Fwwwwwsh.
The wind shifted.
She felt it—a breeze cutting through the heat,
cooler and fresher.
And with it came a scent—strong, overpowering—the smell of the sea.
Her heart jolted.
The skies darkened further.
Plink.A single drop struck the dust.Plink.Another.
Raindrops. Slow, deliberate, striking the dirt floor.
Her gaze lifted, disbelieving. Water fell from above, drop by drop.
Then—
SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The heavens split open. Rain poured in torrents, hammering the city. Flames hissed and died. Smoke collapsed into steam. The air filled with the roar of water, washing over ruin.
Her lips parted. "…...rain?" Her voice was hoarse, broken.
The little ones stirred, peering over her shoulder, their eyes wide with innocent wonder. Their noses dripped, their faces streaked with tears—but for the first time, their gaze lifted as they gazed at the rain.
BOOOOOOM!
Thunder shook the heavens. Lightning tore across the sky, bright as the wrath of Zeus.
From far away came another sound.
SPLAAAAASH!
Waves. Great waves, crashing, as if the sea itself had parted.
Then—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Footsteps.
The ground quaked. The shed rattled.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Each step was too vast to be measured. To mortals, they seemed eternal. To a human, each was the fall of a mountain, the shudder of a world.
BOOOOOOM. BOOOOOOM.
The slaughter outside.....the shrieks of demons, the cries of the dying—were drowned. Whether by the storm or by something greater, she did not know.
BOOOOM. BOOOOM.
Vertigo seized her. The world tilted, spun. She clutched her children close as the earth shook.
Then she saw it.
Through the crack in the wall—a toe.
Enormous. A single toe, larger than her entire hovel. Flesh bronzed, sculpted, perfect. Its presence filled her vision, dwarfing all else.
"BEGONE."
BOOOOOOOOM!
The word was like thunder.
Winds howled.
WHOOOOOOOOOSH!
Roofs tore from houses, flung into the storm. Timbers splintered, tiles shattered. Fires snuffed out.
The woman threw herself over her children, pressing their faces into her chest. EEEEEEEEEE! Her ears rang with the force, pain tearing through her skull. She bit her lip, blood filling her mouth, but still she held them fast.
The storm raged. Violent winds still tore the roofs off houses in the city, yet their foundations remained untouched, as if they had never been the target.
Then, silence fell. Even the rain and thunder paused.
Slowly, she raised her head, removed her hands, and opened her eyes to a scene of destruction and ruin. Their hiding place was laid bare.
She held her children close, whispering for them to keep their eyes closed, her ears still echoing with the sound.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
she heard the thunderous footsteps again, but fainter, muffled by the ringing in her ears. She turned; vision blurred and saw only a vast shadow striding away. Each step shook her bones."
It walked away. Toward the sea.
She stared, dazed, until the form vanished into the horizon. Dust and tears blurring her vision.
A stir at her side—her little ones squirming, fighting free of her arms. Their voices small, weak.
She rose shakily, ears still ringing. Her eyes swept the city.
Corpses lay everywhere. Fires were quenched. The streets ran red with blood, washed thin by rain.
One by one, survivors crawled from hiding. Men, women, children, emerging from holes, cellars, corners. They blinked at the storm-washed world, trembling.
the rain softened to a drizzle.They gazed up at the skies, the metalic demon that spat fire at the city was no more.
all their tormenters had been eradicated only broken corpses remained.
in this broken cityOnly striking footprints remained—colossal, gouged into the earth—leading from Athens to the sea."