In A Universe Without Stars 1: Skyeater (37 page)

The
interviewer is speechless.

“When
I was chosen as an invasion commander I hurriedly chose London as my target.
Most of the year they had cloudy days and brutally snowy winters, it reminded
me of
Uspiri
. I wanted the humans of London to feel
what I felt all those years ago. I didn’t want them to feel fear or sadness,
just an infinite happiness and warmness. So I used the faires abilities to my
advantage and painted a wonderful show for all those involved, Serephin and
Human.

The
video stops and the announcer looks at the camera. At Thora in her enclosure.

“A
powerful and moving story by a sophisticated and compelling man. Judges
Wor
and
Glepre
, why did you vote
for London?” the announcer asks.

Wor
is famous for his three time hit single
into
the night
and multiple other galaxy wide hits. His concerts and records
sold billions in the Serephin systems alone. Teenage Serephins still buy his
CDs but he doesn’t tour anymore since taken up residence on the Skyeater. He’s
retired now.

Glepre
is a famous media Mongol, the creator
and show runner of this show and most of the Eliite media. He was always just
the unknown wheels that ran the industry behind the scenes until he made this
show. That’s when he figured if the universe is ending he might as well have
fun whiles he’s still living.

“Well
Crys
…”
Wor
pauses for dramatic
effect.

“Anyone
who chose anything else are just pompous asses.” The other judges laugh and
grin in jest. They’re used to his shit. “I mean just look at the battlefield.”
He points up at the London panel. “The humans barely had an understanding of what
was happening. It’s just the best, I can’t really describe it. It’s just
beautiful.”

“I
think I can describe it,
Wor
,”
Glepre
replies. “We all have been to
Sherif’s
spectacular
Menagerie, we all know what to expect and what he can do. But his work in London
was, I can say without a doubt, some of his best work.”

Wor
nods to him.

“The
snowcapped building tops, the angelic faires coming from the sky in a
coordinated but majestic manner and the humans not knowing whether to run or
pray to their gods. Even after they saw what was truly happening, the spectacle
was so mesmerizing that once they saw their comrades die they just accepted us
with open arms, knowing that we we’re going to kill them. That takes something,
all of the other races we have encountered fought to the death, and so did the
other cities. To do something so memorizing to have caused them to not only
give up but to welcome death is on a whole other level,”
Glepre
says.

“Great
answer,
Glepre
. Do any of the other judges anything
else to add?” the announcer asks.

“I
do,” Head says.

Head
is a famous producer, he made his fame through the people he scouted but he
made his infamy for all his scandals. Multiple partners, male and female, in
relationships and out, his drug binges and famously losing a fight against
Leif, who he drunkenly challenged to a fight. Out of all those things, that’s
the only thing he regretted.  

“We’ve
all seen it before, the snow, the sparkles,
the
impending downfall. Sharif is continuing to do that same shit,” Head says.
Glepre
and
Wors
scoff at him.

“Strong
accusations by Head. On that note, let’s move on to New York’s attack.”

The
camera zooms into the New York City panel and zooms into Ulbe being
interviewed. “Ulbe
Ves
, what made you want to use the
forsaken in your invasion?”

The
forsaken, the angels.

“I
used what was available, and that was the best available option,” he says. The
interviewer waits for him to continue. But Ulbe just stands there, staring at
her. He’s done.

“Sadly,
Ulbe was killed in action during his invasion of Washington. His rewards and
prizes if he wins will go to his surviving family members,” the announcer says
as the camera pans off the panel and onto the judges.

“Ha!
That’s why I like Ulbe, so humble. I think he became a Damon just so he can
have an excuse to act the way he did,” Head says.

The
panel replays the events of New York. The angels, the forsaken, rising from the
streets, the humans getting on their knees to pray, the angels spitting out
hellfire, setting humans aflame.

All
is captured from impossible angles. Only the producers know how the cameras
captured such impossible things.

“This
has everything, sure
Sherif’s
was spectacular and
‘magical’ but it lacked substance. Ulbe was hard hitting, terrifying, and
spectacular all at once. That was something London didn’t have,” Head says.

“What
I really liked was his infusion of religion. New York was a majorly Christian
city, so is most of the United States. To incorporate it at that base level and
getting the reaction he did, it takes perfect planning and execution,”
Strea
says.
Strea
is a hugely
famous pop star, but it was her business skills that got her where she is now.

“Other
religious attacks haven’t been as effective. Places like Jakarta and Cairo
didn’t have as strong of a mental impact as New York’s forsaken attacks. I
don’t know why but the others didn’t seem as exciting,”
Strea
continues.

“It’s
because with no images of Muhammad and no prophet for the Jews, the others just
feared death and did not question if their god were abandoning them. They just
ran away from some statues of some random men. I feel that
Ulbe’s
use of the forsaken was the perfect ingredient to a perfect invasion.
Spectacular, soul crushing and perfect,” Head says.

“Alright
let’s move on to Los Angeles,” the announcer says. The camera zooms into Los
Angeles panel. Kabus stands in front of the interviewer with a confident grin
on his face.

“So
Kabus what made you chose the most
normal
method of invasion in
comparison to the others?” she asks.

“When
I was younger I always liked Hester’s
The Act of War
,” Kabus says.

The
panel shows the Los Angeles invasion. The grunts absolutely wreck Los Angeles
and are having fun while they’re it.

“I
liked how brutal and simple it was. Sometimes people want that, instead of all
the flashiness and effects. All of those things just covers up for the lack of
substance in the others invasions,” Kabus says with a toothy grin. “It’s the
original style of war, people are tired of that fake bullshit of the other
battles. This is the way we used to do it. This is our old style, so this
invasion is a throwback to the
classic
style of battle.” The camera
zooms out of the panel.

“Classic
style.
Pfft
. That’s just an excuse for his lack of
originality and
classic
style of thinking. I mean he was freaking killed
in battle and the only reason he’s still alive is because he’s an ascended. To
die as a general in your own battlefield when you’re winning is an offense that
should be punishable by death,” Head says.

“Really
despicable,”
Glepre
says. “It was a
clusterfuck
of an ordeal.”

“His
arrogance got the better of him, it was a spectacle in the worst imaginable
way. I’m surprised
Noke
even voted for him,”
Wor
says.

Noke
raises his head, he was letting them
just ramble on but they just called him out.

“You
are surprised? All of you people are fools, fools who’ve been deceived and
deluded like retards by the pretty lights and imagery. You’re simpletons, this
is a war. Not this crap you call
spectacular
. We judge our invasions
based on the fear impacted on the imposing race. That is
our
game. I
don’t even know why I agreed to judge this crap,” he says.

Nobody
replies to him. He’s one of the smartest Serephin and Alpha’s around. He’s the
one who designed the Skyeater and many of their other ships and technologies.
He’s a very prestige figure. When he speaks, they listen.

“Imagine
this, what would you fear. A giant man on a cross whose chained up and can
barely move that you can easily hide from, a bunch of toxic snow which you can
easily escape from by going underground, or an animalistic beast which can
track you down and force you out of whatever little rat hole you crawled in.
It’s an easy answer.”

The
others don’t reply, because they know he’s right. “Damn, he shut us up,” Head
says, breaking the tension. The rest of the
judges
laugh.

Thora’s
body presses against the glass as she stares intently at the television.

They’re
mocking their deaths.

Humans.

“Crazy
isn’t it,”
Punit
says walking up to her. “This is a
fucking game to them. Our lives are a fucking game to them!” He steps close.

Awkwardly
close, she can feel the heat from his body. She tries to move away but she can
only press herself so far away. He looks at her trying to gauge her reaction.
She doesn’t respond.

“The
votes are in.” The show returns from a commercial break. Thora stares back at
the television, she doesn’t like how close he is.

On
the television, the announcer pulls out an envelope out of her suit coat
pocket. Music plays in the background, loud taps of a drum.

“And
the winner is…” The judges are on the edges of their seats. Even Thora wants to
know who won. Caer sits at the edge of his couch, elbows on his knees,
staring
way too intently at the screen.

“Ulbe
wins with the invasion of New York City!!” she announces.

Caer
jumps up. “Yes! I just won one hundred quid.”

Thora
tries to look at the screen but Caer blocks it. “It was really close, he only
won by ninety-seven votes.” The television echoes. Caer falls to his couch with
a grin on his face. “But the battle isn’t over yet.”

Cole’s
picture shows up.

“Tomorrow
is the final battle for humanity. Cole the first ever human ascended vs
Numenwolfe, our lord and savior. Will Cole be able to defeat the Numenwolfe and
save humanity or will he lose and Earth be lost forever? Tune in tomorrow to
find out!” she announcer says. A versus poster shows up. Cole vs The
Numenwolfe.

 Thora’s
eyes widen with shock; the rest of the announcer’s words fly past her as she
continues.

Cole
is alive? He’s ascended? She’s not alone, he didn’t leave her.

“Cole!”
Thora shouts at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoes through the enclosure.

“Cole?”
Punit
asks.

“It’s—it’s
my husband!” she says frantically. He’s alive, she can’t believe it.

“That’s
means I won’t have to be with you anymore! If he wins we can escape!” she says
excitedly.
Punit
looks at her, with the exact
opposite expression.

Something
glimmers in his eyes.

“And
what about me?” he asks darkly.

“If
he wins, he can save all of us, which includes you,” she says, she calms down,
noticing his darker expression.

“Do
you really think he can save us? You’re fucking stupid. This is our life and you
are my woman now.”

“I’m
not your woman, I’m nobody’s woman, just because I was placed here doesn’t mean
that I’m yours.”

She
stepped back slightly. He approaches her.

“There’s
nobody coming to save you or me. You’re the only thing I have left and I’m not
going to let you go.”

“Please
don’t do what you’re thinking about doing,” she mutters. He’s scaring her. He
jumps toward her. “No!” she screams.

“Don’t—Don’t!
Stop!”

He
forces her onto the ground. Her left arm snaps, a sharp pain shoots up her
body.

“Please,
nononono
,” She pleads with him. He grabs her arms
forcefully and climbs on her.

She’s
pinned.

In
the trees surrounding them, red eyes peek out. The others, watching from the
safety of the trees.

Either
ignorant of the pain of another and of humans mating habits or just cowards,
broken by the Serephins.

Thora’s
screams yell out of the enclosure. Caer still sits on the couch. He turns up
the volume on the television, clearly annoyed by her voice drowning out the
sound.

He
shifts in his seat and then he finally rolls his eyes.

He
gets up and walks over to the Enclosure. He looks in and sees what’s happening.

“God,
shut up!” he says, he presses on the glass and a dome closes over the
enclosure.