The coliseum erupted, this time not in chants or cheers but in whispers of concern and confusion as they watched the descending entities in the dark night sky approaching gradually with a faint hum that only grew louder and louder the closer they got.
Children hugged their parents tightly, already feeling dread.
The adults — those who had lived for more than twenty years — already recognized that sound. It was the same one they'd heard on that day, the day Arden was visited.
Yet, as they gazed at the night sky, watching thousands of tiny lights grow larger and the soft hum rise into a thunderous roar, they prayed it would become something else, something peaceful, like the return of hunters from other great nations.
At the middle of the coliseum, close to the gigantic Survival Matrix, Marlon and the others were no different.
Confusion arose. Panic grew.
"Aren't those spaceships?" some of them whispered among themselves. "But they don't look or sound like ours."
