“Sound the alarms! Sound the ala—” The night watchmen's warning was silenced in an instant with a sword through his throat.

    A second later, the unknown climbed over the wall. The first group dealt with several of the guards that were alerted to their presence, while the others lined up the walls with explosive rocks. Not too long after, the entire section of the eastern gate was lit up like a firework display.

    The wall was breached in a matter of minutes.

    The night air crackled with tension as the intruders descended upon the city, cloaked in darkness and clad in black armor.

    A guard, who managed to slip away, was able to reach the flames that carried messages throughout the capital city. It regularly remained a white color, for there was peace all over Deitus. Occasionally, it glowed blue for weather warnings or gold to alert the people of prayer time. 

    The colors silver and orange signified danger of different kinds. But when the flames glowed black, it was war. That doom and devastation was coming, and to hide or runaway before it becomes too late.

    A signal seldom seen, for several generations lived and died without bearing witness to it.

    And now, there it was. Surrounded by a red tint, the black flame burst and lit up every lit candle in the city.

    By then, the rest of the soldiers fled or surrendered while the unknown slaughtered all in their path. Men, women, children, young and old. None was spared. Within moments, a quarter of the city’s residents were either dead, dying, or fleeing to the main palace in terror. Screams could be heard all over. None were safe.

     Amidst the chaos, a lone figure stood unmoved, their gazed fixed upon the bloodbath unfolding before them. Beneath their decorative helmet made of black metal, their face was obscured and difficult to see. Their black armor, sleek and devoid of any insignia, glistened with the fresh blood of their victims. 

    They strode confidently through the chaos, their steps measured and deliberate, exuding an aura of unassailable authority. A pair of keen, predatory eyes scanned the battlefield, missing nothing.

    With a sinister smile, they licked their lower lip, dragging a lazy thumb across the blood splattered on their chin.

    Hmph. The taste of being blood cause a deep sense of loathing within them. But nonetheless, it was a taste they intended to get used to, for they wanted to revel in the blood of beingkind. Too long had this disgrace of a species been the all-powerful ruler of the Spheric.

    No.

    This was it; their time had finally come. Many years they awaited, but now, with the moon slowly beginning to peak, and the sand of eons falling away, they knew that all the patience they held onto was worth the losses they suffered.

    Yes. 

    The end was near, and they were more than inviting of its impending arrival.