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2024-11-02
The angels soared overhead, countless wings of burnished gold cutting through the breeze. Even from the ground far below, their song was still audible, the random noise of encrypted data packets modulated into procedurally-generated arias of ethereal beauty and grace. It was the song of an army that had no need for stealth, subtlety, efficiency—only grandiose glory and the projection of power and threat. All who heard them, all who beheld them, would know that the heavens were theirs.
Huddled inside a crumbling building, the five surviving members of 8a01:322:c7e6::fade:0/112 listened to the song that had once rung in their ears as their comrades died in front of them.