ARC I — "ASHES OF THE FAITHFUL"
CHAPTER 1 — "THE SKY THAT NEVER SLEEPS"
The crimson sky never changed. It hung over the city like a wound that refused to heal.
Ships the size of castles floated above the towers, their blue lights humming softly — the gods watching their faithful.
Adrian Matter stood among the crowd in the main square, head unbowed. Around him, people knelt, whispering prayers to the glowing figures that walked between them — tall beings of silver flesh and hollow eyes.
A small child dropped a piece of bread. An alien soldier crushed it underfoot without even looking down.
"Waste is sin," the soldier said coldly. "Remember that, human."
The child's mother trembled, clutching her son. "Forgive us, my lord, please!"
The alien moved on, indifferent.
Adrian's fists tightened at his sides.
"They call them gods," he muttered under his breath, "but I see monsters."
When the ceremony ended, the people scattered like frightened birds. Adrian walked home in silence, his mother waiting by the fire when he entered their small stone house.
"You were staring again, weren't you?" she said gently.
"How can I not?" Adrian dropped a small bundle of wood beside the hearth. "They walk around like they own the world."
His father looked up from sharpening a farming blade. "They do own it. Best to keep your head low, son. It keeps us alive."
"Alive?" Adrian laughed bitterly. "You call this alive? We bow, we beg, and thank them for stealing our air."
"Adrian," his mother warned softly, glancing at the window, "words like that will get you killed."
"Then maybe dying would mean something."
The room went still. His father's hands froze mid-sharpening, the scraping sound fading.
A low gong thundered through the city. His father stood. "The Offering Ceremony. We should go."
They joined the masses in the plaza. At its center, a radiant alien priest floated above a marble altar, its voice echoing through the square.
"Children of Earth," it said, tone calm and haunting, "your devotion nourishes us. Offer your gifts, and the gods will grant you another sunrise."
Everyone knelt. Adrian didn't.
"Adrian, kneel," his mother hissed, panic in her voice.
He didn't move. "For what? For letting them feed on us?"
A soldier's gaze fell upon him. The creature approached, silver armor reflecting the sky. "You there," it said, voice metallic and sharp, "why do you stand?"
Adrian met its gaze. "…Because my legs still belong to me."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. His mother's eyes widened. "Please—he's just a boy!"
The soldier raised its staff, energy pulsing at its tip. "Faithlessness spreads. It must be purified."
The strike came fast — a flash of blue light and pain. Adrian hit the ground hard, blood trailing from his lip. He looked up through the haze, breathing raggedly.
"If gods need slaves to stay gods," he said, voice shaking but firm, "then maybe they're just afraid."
The alien paused. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly brighter.
"You will learn your place soon, boy. All do."
It turned away. The crowd kept their heads down, no one daring to help him.
That night, Adrian sat on the roof of their house, a cut across his cheek glowing faintly under the red moon. His mother climbed up, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.
"You shouldn't have said that, Adrian," she whispered.
"I know," he said quietly. "But someone had to."
His mother sighed, gazing at the glowing ships drifting in the sky. "Your father's right. We survive by obeying. That's all we can do."
Adrian looked up, eyes reflecting the alien lights. "Then I don't want to just survive. I want to live."
The two sat in silence. Wind carried the faint hum of the ships above — the constant sound that never stopped, never let them rest.
Adrian's hand clenched into a fist.
"They watch us even when we sleep," he murmured. "The sky itself belongs to them."
He stared at the endless red clouds.
"One day…" his voice hardened, "…I'll take it back."
The scene widened — a small boy beneath an endless red sky, the false gods drifting above him like shadows.
And for the first time that night, Adrian didn't feel fear.He felt purpose