Year 3042.
Earth’s skies were no longer blue.
The once vibrant hues had been replaced by a suffocating shade of crimson, as Zorvan warships hung ominously above every major city, their jagged silhouettes casting long shadows of despair.
Commander Zorak stood on the bridge of the Vor’Thar, the Zorvans’ flagship, observing the chaos below through the ship’s massive viewport. His crystalline eyes glowed with an eerie silver light as he watched Earth’s final line of defense crumble.
“Resistance has fallen in New Delhi.”
“London’s defense grid is neutralized.”
“The last bastion in Washington… is gone.”
One by one, the voices of his subordinates echoed through the command deck, confirming humanity’s total collapse. The once-proud nations of Earth had united in a desperate bid to repel the Zorvan invasion, but their combined might was no match for the invaders’ advanced technology and ruthless tactics.
Zorak’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk.
“Earth falls… as predicted.”
The Zorvans were not conquerors driven by greed or the need for resources. They were architects of control, enslaving civilizations not to plunder but to maintain order through submission.
But Zorak’s gaze darkened as he turned toward the figure standing beside him.
High Priest Vexar.
Draped in the ceremonial robes of the Zorvan Purists, Vexar’s presence was unsettling even to someone as hardened as Zorak. His eyes gleamed with fanaticism, and the twisted symbol of purity etched into his forehead marked his allegiance to a dangerous ideology.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Commander,” Vexar intoned, his voice like a serpent’s hiss, “The Earthlings are… impure. Their mixed genetics threaten the stability of our order.”
Zorak’s expression hardened. “We were ordered to enslave, not to annihilate.”
“And yet…” Vexar’s lips curled into a sinister smile. “A seed of impurity will grow into rebellion. Mark my words, Zorak. Their kind will never submit.”
?? Earth’s Last Stand
Far below, on the scorched ruins of Earth’s surface, a small group of human fighters made their final stand.
Their bodies were battered, their weapons nearly depleted, but their spirits refused to break.
Kaelen, the leader of this ragged band of resistance, crouched behind the ruins of an ancient monument, his breathing ragged. His sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, calculating the odds — and finding them grim.
“We don’t have much time,” Kaelen whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of Zorvan patrols.
Beside him, a young woman adjusted her makeshift comm unit. “The signal’s weak, but… I think we reached the outposts on Mars.”
Kaelen’s jaw clenched. It was a fool’s hope — Mars was barely holding out against Zorvan forces. But a seed of hope was better than none.
“We can’t let them take Earth without a fight.” Kaelen’s eyes burned with determination. “Even if we fall, the idea of freedom must survive.”
As the Zorvan patrols closed in, Kaelen activated a small beacon on his wrist — a signal designed to scatter encrypted messages beyond Earth’s reach. A warning to any who might rise in the future.
“To whoever finds this message…” Kaelen’s voice was steady, but his heart pounded. “Earth may fall today, but one day, a fallen star will rise… and light the way for us all.”
The beacon blinked once. Twice. Then it was gone, carried into the unknown.
“Kaelen!” a voice shouted. “They’re here!”
Kaelen’s grip tightened on his weapon.
“Then let’s make them remember who we are.”
?? The Rogue Faction Awakens
Above, on the Vor’Thar, Zorak’s eyes narrowed as reports flooded in. The resistance was crushed, but something… lingered.
A trace of a distress signal — weak, but persistent.
“Trace it,” Zorak ordered.
But Vexar’s grin widened. “Let it go.”
Zorak’s eyes snapped toward him. “Why?”
“Because,” Vexar murmured, his voice laced with sinister certainty, “Even the strongest flame needs a spark to ignite.”
As the embers of Earth’s last stand faded into silence, something far more dangerous was set into motion.
