The silence within the command sanctum was broken only by the distant hum of distortion from this strange layer known as the Rift, thrumming along the walls. There was for a moment no alarms, no beep. Only controlled tension, as if the ship itself were holding its breath.
The Messiah stood in the room along with the three Overlords. The Strength Overlord acted as High Marshal of the mothership. He stood before the central hololith, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes scanning the projection that displayed the different layers of Fiendfell simultaneously. The Third Layer was the Rift where they hovered. The Second Layer was the Mirage. The First Layer was the Shimmer. Beneath them was the real world, where a projection of the mothership hovered above the skies of a large city.
“Status?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the projection.
At the controls, one of the operatives adjusted the display. The projection expanded to show a far larger image of Fiendfell, one that revealed the entirety of the Land of Men. Across the slightly curved display glowed twenty one white ships. Each pulsed in perfect synchrony.
“All Blitztr?ger units report final anchor alignment, sir,” answered a Sub Commandant, her voice crisp and unwavering. “Final spatial drift adjusted. Layer convergence at the twenty one point zeros has been confirmed.”
Another voice spoke from the flank. It belonged to the head operative responsible for spatial calculations, as the Messiah had learned earlier. “Sir, the descent vectors are locked. If they fall now, they will land with perfect synchrony. They are ready to open the portal and initiate descent.”
The Messiah’s jaw tightened. The Strength Emperor and his fellow overlords remained unmoved.
“And the Stahlgott?”
The female operative did not hesitate. “Hovering dead center above the Holy City. We are aligned for descent. Spatial resonator unleashed. No more drift. No offset expected. We are ready to open the portal and initiate our descent.”
At that moment the Strength Emperor allowed himself a slow breath. He glanced at the Eternal Emperor, then said, “so this is what silence before judgment feels like. It is a little heavier than expected.”
He chuckled at his own words.
“Then let me help,” said the Eternal Emperor. Clad in the same High Marshal darksteel robes as the Strength Emperor, he stepped forward. “This is an order from command. Broadcast it to all twenty one vessels.”
“Yes sir!”
“Connection established, sir.”
“This is a command from your Marshal Overlord Chai ii Lihn, to the marshal commanders of all twenty one Blitztr?ger ships,” he declared in a calm voice. “Prepare to bring down your hammer and deliver justice upon these lands.”
He looked at the Strength Emperor, prompting him to give the next order.
“Stahlgott. Lead the way, initiate our descent!”
“Yes sir.”
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“Kinetic protocol initiated.”
“Portal to the second layer, the Mirage, initiated.”
“Gravity anchors released. Descent initiated.”
“To all Blitztr?gers, do not falter too far behind,” the Eternal Emperor announced as the descent began to be felt.
He turned toward the Strength Emperor, but then his attention was drawn instead to the Messiah, who frowned.
“…Are we really going to fall? Like that? Onto them? Without warning?”
The Patriarch, the Emperor, and even the Primogenitor turned to look at him. Their eyes held no uncertainty. “We will not fall,” one of them replied. “They will.”
“What is with that expression, Messiah? Was it not your wish to initiate hostilities?”
It was true. The Messiah could not deny it. He knew the tyrants possessed the means to fight back against any threat from the Land of Men they had been exiled from. In truth, the very circumstances that had created their nation had forced them to prepare for such a war. It was the natural response of anyone determined to survive, and they certainly had that determination.
He also knew they possessed the capability to launch a powerful offensive. The existence of the mothership had never been a true secret. While they prepared for an invasion of their own lands, they had long dreamed of launching one against the Land of Men. All he had done was tempt them to do it earlier than planned.
Even knowing all this, he had not expected the opening to be so violent.
A deep vibration passed through the floor.
“Stahlgott priming its descent in the Rift. Entering the second layer.”
Space groaned as they crossed into another plane.
“Portal to the first layer, Shimmer, initiated.”
“Stahlgott priming its descent in the Shimmer.”
“…Entering the material world of Fiendfell.”
The Shimmer tore like silk behind the veil of reality. He watched as a portal ripped open in that plane while the ship descended faster and faster, like a meteor falling from orbit. It plunged through the portal and entered a world that was painfully familiar. No longer a parallel layer, but the real world.
They descended upon a city. The projection showed temples, homes, streets, and people, all unaware of what was about to fall upon them.
“Brace for impact. Contact with the Holy City in three… two… one.”
There was no warning. No visual cue. No tremor. No rumble. Only the cold projection of what was happening outside.
The mothership did not descend so much as it manifested. The air collapsed, displaced by a city sized mass plunging from between layers of space. There was no fire. No explosion. No beam of light. Only pure, relentless mass moving faster than thought.
A thunderless silence followed.
Then the world broke.
From the command sanctum aboard Stahlgott there was no sound of impact. Only readouts.
He tried to imagine how it must have felt for the people of the city. To them, the sky above the Holy City must have momentarily ceased to be sky and become a giant fortress. Then, in the next instant, nothing. No more sky. No more Stahlgott. No more Holy City.
“Ah,” he sighed in pity. At least they did not see it coming.
The seismic bloom on the projection table flared in blood orange. Sensor quills rattled. Magical glyphs twisted violently before resetting with static. They watched as the topography map of the Holy City glitched, then resolved again with a single smoking crater in its place.
The Strength Emperor was the first to speak. “Report?”
“Target obliterated, Sir. Radius of total annihilation 16.4 kilometers. Secondary devastation exceeds fifty. Atmospheric disruption ongoing.”
“I see,” the Strength Emperor said differently. The voice that had been steady and almost unfeeling until now sounded strangely more human.
"Thus falls the City of Faith. Thus ends worship. Thus ends the proto-technological age," declared the Primogenitor. The multiple tails of his creature, the fox he called Sahina, danced excitedly as it stirred upon his shoulders.
The Eternal Emperor chuckled at the words of the youngest overlord. He patted his shoulder and said, “our hammer fell, and so did their city of worship. But their symbol of worship still stands.” He motioned toward the projection of the Land of Men. “Their moons are still in the sky.”
“Until it collapses from the sky, there will be no new age,” the other Overlord replied. “So this is only the beginning.”
At that moment the female operative’s voice rang out again, some of its mechanical steadiness returning.
“Sirs, all twenty one Blitztr?gers have initiated their descent.”
“Ten Shimmer breaches confirmed across the Land of Men. Sixteen Shimmer breaches confirmed. Eighteen…”
There was a pause, then another report followed.
“Sir. All twenty one Blitztr?gers have made successful landings.”
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