Asper doubted. His sweet Thusia, thin, trembling, ecstatic, who always had to wear a headscarf so no one would see stripes on her head. She stood next to him, pressing her hands to her chest.

‘It happened, Asper. It happened! They are here! The gods walk among us!’

But the gods seemed not to know they were gods. They ran through the streets, white and lilac, clawed, toothed. They devoured and destroyed everything in their path. Yes, the Patriarch had spoken of this – if that was what he had in mind when he spoke of the renewal of the world – but something was wrong here, something… 

This thought beat on the very edge of consciousness. Asper could not fully comprehend it even.

Oh, don’t reproach him for unbelief! He believed; believed in liberation, and heeded every word of the sermons. And when those stupid slaves of the Emperor were frightened and ran, when 

the first Children of the Stars descended from the heavens, he rejoiced with everyone. 

But now…

Now, when he looked at the empty streets, when he heard the xenos growling…

Thusia was crying with happiness. She stepped around the corner and stretched out her hands as if wanting to give Them her whole world, her whole self.

Asper smiled, admired her again, as he had two years ago, when he had seen her for the first time. He stepped forward, and—

Thusia disappeared along with the white-lilac lightning. Ascended?

The crunch of bones, the chomping, like a dog chewing raw meat. A muffled wheeze, turning into a disgusting, inhuman, lifeless gurgling. A hand with crooked fingers, laying in a red puddle. A broken bone stuck out of the meat. Asper covered his mouth with both hands, stepped back; something twisted inside him, a lump rose in his throat.

Oh heaven, heaven, heaven.

Oh gods, gods, gods.

Asper turned away but that hand was still before his eyes. Staggering, clutching at the bricks – red like gods, no! He looked out trying not to lower his eyes. There was nobody on the street. He went out, feeling like he was already being torn apart, ripped apart, devoured alive…

There was no one. So, maybe Thusia was—

He looked back and almost screamed.

Dead, gods, dead.

No, not gods. There were no gods. There were no gods!

Asper rushed to run, mad and blind. He felt fangs tearing chunks out of his body. He felt claws piercing him.

He ran and saw his brothers; they were crying and praying. They were ready to have a celebration. They were shouting about victory. 

‘They’ll kill us,’ Asper shouted. ‘They’ll kill us, hear you, all of us! Thusia, Thusia, have you seen Thusia’s hand?’

And he kept running. He did not know what would happen to his brothers. He felt an animal fear, a horror only, not sacred, not before a god, but before a wild beast.

He saw one of these four-armed creatures. It rushed at him with a squeal, and there was nothing divine in it. An armature appeared in Asper’s hands – he did not know how – and he hit this creature, hit with all his might, hit like a beast himself, hit when it had already stopped moving.

He ran, hearing screams. He hardly breathed for the very air changed. He ran and out of the corner of his eye saw a black silhouette in the smoke. This creature was the size of a house. It walked slowly, spewing gases. 

He ran past burning buildings. The fire had been raging for a long time, and the whole street was covered in smoke. Several sheets of paper, black at the edges, fell at Asper’s feet. 

Arms, and the man I sing, who, fors’d by fate… 

That’s all he managed to read.

Asper himself did not know where he was running; he zigzagged through narrow streets, diving into gateways, hiding

from every noise, being afraid of every shadow. Several times he felt a hungry gaze and hid in any crack he came across. He sat in the sewers and dived under cars, although he understood this wouldn’t stop them.

Suddenly he heard the roar of an engine. The spaceport. Of course, the spaceport! People were screaming there – people, so close! Stumbling, Asper ran out to them, forgetting about everything.

‘Our shuttle is taking off! Our shuttle is taking off! By the will of the Emperor, this is the last shuttle for refugees! This planet is doomed,’ screamed a woman, stained in the purple blood of monsters.

‘Stop! For the… Oh, stop!’

‘The Emperor protects you! Do you have your documents?’

‘No… Please, heaven, heaven, you… You haven’t seen… They eat everything, you understand…’

‘Your name?’

‘Asper. I worked in mines… You may ask, it’s true, I…’

‘Come on board. We’ll check everything.’

Asper was no longer running. He walked in slowly, shaking all over. He saw people like himself, scared, crying, wounded. He sat down by the window.

The doors closed. The shuttle took off, and it no longer mattered who was scratching and screaming outside. The city stirred from the lilac backs like a huge anthill.

His family was left there. And the Patriarch, too. And they all died. But Asper was alive, and there had to be some explanation for it.

The shuttle went into space, breaking out of the green clouds; Asper saw a starry, starry sky.

He leaned his forehead against the shatterproof glass. There were barely noticeable stripes hidden under his hair.

Or maybe there are gods among the stars?