The first sign for the San Francisco bay community that something was wrong was the birds. A family on the outskirts of the ruined coastal city had converted an abandoned warehouse into a haven for blackbirds, pigeons, seagulls, the like. The birds received shelter and food from the warehouse’s human occupants, letting them survive in impressive numbers throughout the bay. So when an entire city’s worth of birds took off east almost in unison, it set the people living there on edge.

Half an hour later, a small fleet of tugboats and fishing trawlers passed under the massive red bridge that formed the boundary between the bay and the Pacific ocean. This was what really spooked the inhabitants of the ruined city. Most of them hadn’t seen this many ships in the bay since before the Nabbing.

The boats close to the front of the fleet’s vaguely triangular formation began to sound their foghorns as they turned south and approached the city’s docks. Not a single person in the echoey labyrinth of San Francisco’s desolate streets didn’t understand the message.

Hundreds of people flocked to the docks at the far north of the city, watching a single motorboat detach from the rest of the ships and approach land. Aside from the single person manning the engine, the only person aboard was a cloaked, masked figure standing on the prow.

Torch silently stared at the crowd of puzzled people awaiting them on the concrete piers. They shrugged with one shoulder from within the folds of their cloak, making sure their longsword was properly slung over their back. This was their debut in the mainland New World, they had to make sure everything worked. Thankfully, they had checked extensively beforehand.

“Greetings, citizens of San Francisco. I, along with the rest of this fleet, represent the Servants of Reckoning. I have traveled thousands of kilometers to stand before you all today. We are here to free North and South America from the terror of Primoi, demons and other various supernatural terrors.”

The confusion on the people’s face began to shift to annoyance. Many turned and left. Torch did not acknowledge the deserters. “While such claims may have seemed unintelligible in simpler times, we no longer live in those times. Millions of disparate and lost humans have been united from Europe to Japan in our quest to bring humanity back to its former glory and unite you all with your taken loved ones. This is our duty, and it is one that I am asking you to join us in. Some of you may have at least heard of a Primus recently, yes?”

One of the people on the dock nudged the person next to him. “Yeah, I think I heard a trader from Sacramento mention hearing a story about one of those a few weeks ago. He just chalked it up to another whackjob with a big mouth. But, uh, if these people are talking about the same thing…”

Torch glanced back at the bridge. Tiny, indistinct shapes moved across it, almost imperceptibly. They looked back at the remaining people. “A strange thing for you to claim, that your city is unfamiliar with Primoi. After all, our scouting cadres have managed to inform us of an interesting find of theirs.” They raised their voice slightly. “Bring it out.”

Two strangers pushed through the crowd, both armed with hunting shotguns. One of them cleared a path to the docks’ edge, while the other shepherded a massive, red-eyed person whose arms were bound with glowing blue rope and whose mouth was sealed with duct tape.

“A Primus,” said Torch, “harbored in your city and hid from us. No doubt, you were ordered to do so.”

The second stranger shoved the colossal captive to the ground in front of Torch, in plain view of the entire crowd.

An old man stepped forward and glared at Torch. “Look here, kid. Y–”

“Torch.”

“Whatever. I don’t know what you and your friends are getting up to, but we aren’t fooled.” He waved at the bound Primus. “We’ve never seen this guy in our lives, we would’ve remembered someone like that! You come into our city acting like the second coming, and you’re telling us that we’ve got some glowy-eyed freak calling the shots?”

Another citizen joined the old man. “Yeah! This is our town now, and your boats had better clear out before we prove it to you! We don’t want any part of what you’re trying to bring here!”

Several other voices chimed in, angrily shouting their approval.

“Many of you were no doubt unaware of who was behind all of your problems,” said Torch. “If you wish to surrender and join our cause, you may do so and you will promptly be protected from harm while the Servants are here to protect you.”

They looked back at the Servant manning the engine and nodded. While the Servant fished a walkie-talkie out of their pocket and mumbled into it, Torch turned towards the other people. “There will be no quarter for those who choose not to.”

A barrage of distant cracks echoed across the bay, followed by three dozen specks flying away from the bridge, through the sky and towards the city.

As the low whistle of the mortar shells increased steadily in volume, they were abruptly drowned out by the screams of the townspeople. While the people in front of them scattered and ran away from the docks, Torch casually unslung their sword. “Bring the rest in.”

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The artillery barrage slammed into the city, sending several skyscrapers collapsing to the ground. One shell landed close to the docks and ended up scattering half a dozen people all over in a cloud of dust and rubble.

The armor under Torch’s cloak pulsed a dim blue and they leapt across the water and onto the dock. It would take a few minutes for the crews of the other ships to disembark, Torch could always start early.

They caught up to the fleeing crowd in a heartbeat, slicing through people in a blur of gray and blue. While they massacred the people in front of them, they continued to speak in a calm, flat tone. “Fleeing will be taken as an admission of unrepentant guilt. There is an easy way out of this. The only use for a traitor to humankind is that of an example.”

Several of the boats began to dock, allowing dozens of armed and armored Servants to stream out into the city. Convoys of tanks, trucks and ATVs spread out with spartan efficiency in their quest to cover the city. In total, it took six minutes for the hundreds of remaining people to be completely surrounded. Dozens of them began to file out of their hiding holes and barricades, hesitantly moving into the ranks of the Servants. Most, however, held their ground.

An industrial cargo ship pulled into the only dock big enough to fit it, crushing the yacht that had originally been moored there against the concrete. Torch gave a whistle, and nine shipping containers were opened in unison.

The Servants were not advancing in a hurry, and the surviving townspeople still had several city blocks available to them. Most of them tried to hide in abandoned buildings, hoping the invaders would just pass them by. What few of them possessed firearms were attempting to fire on the Servants from their vantage points. This plan was ruined the moment the Chosen were set loose.

Malformed abominations charged, flew and slithered through the streets, tearing through any pockets of people they could find. And given that the things could detect their prey from miles away, they were very good at the task that had been bestowed upon them. Anyone that was quick enough to leave their hiding place before the Chosen were able to dig through were almost immediately gunned down by awaiting Servants.

Torch strolled through the carnage, ignoring the sounds of screaming and smashing concrete all around them. They noticed a twenty-something civilian fleeing from a hardware store down the street, empty pistol tossed to the side. Before the other Servants could open fire, they flung their glyph-covered sword directly into the unaware person’s back.

Torch strode over to where the person was thrashing in the road, their footsteps, if there were any under there cloak, completely silent. They looked down at the twisting mass of meat and bones, then neatly extracted their sword from the mess. The hole left behind closed in seconds, barely a spot of blood visible.

After maybe thirty seconds, the newly-formed Chosen got to its scaled feet and stared up at Torch with fifteen bulbous eyes. Not a scrap of intelligence was visible within any of them. Torch whistled, and the Chosen scampered back into the hardware store.

A few moments later, it returned with a small trophy tangled up in the tentacles dripping from its mouth. Torch took the trophy and inspected the base.

‘L. PARKER, UNDER-13 MINIGOLF STATE CHAMPION, 2015.’

“Acceptable.” Torch whistled, and the new Chosen plodded over to the others of its kind waiting at the end of the street. Meanwhile, Torch turned to the nearby blockade of Servants standing to attention.

“Relay my orders to your compatriots: This is not the same as Hawaii. Spread out, find nearby settlements. Let them know that we have come to save them. Promise to make sure that this will never happen again, and the locals will be considerably more amenable to joining our ranks.”

The Servants saluted and left to pass on the commands. Torch cleaned their sword on their cloak and turned back towards the dock. The other Servants could bring them suitable Chosen candidates, they would be better off setting up a base of operations. The real campaigns would begin soon, after all.

The Servants who had presented the captive Primus approached Torch. One of them looked visibly uncomfortable, while the other stoically spoke to Torch. “What do we do with the captive now?”

Torch pointed to an island in the bay. “There. Same for the Chosen.”

-

Waia burst through her cocoon of linen sheets and emerged into the blazing husk of what had once been her home village. Hundreds of masked figures were perched on cliffs surrounding the village, all cackling like hyenas.

Through a cloud of flies, Waia spotted a hooded figure standing over Ivy’s corpse. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. The figure turned to face her, their expansive cloak sweeping across the ground and stirring up yet more flies.

Waia took one step forward before pitching forward into the fabric-covered ground. Bandage-like rolls of linen wrapped around her arms, pinning her to the ground. Waia looked up in terror as the figure approached, countless insects eating away at their cloak and exposed skin. Instead of a smooth mask, their face was a bleached, shadowy skull. A centipede crawled out of one of the empty eye sockets.

Waia watched as the figure was consumed by the cloud of insects surrounding it, before falling apart into a flock of vultures that flew into nothingness. The material holding her down finally released, letting her crane her neck up at the sky.

A hole had formed directly above her, piercing straight through miles of clouds and revealing what lay beyond. A gargantuan disembodied reptilian eye, glowing sky-blue with the intensity of the sun, glared down at her. Waia felt the entire world around her dissolve into blue flame.

Waia jolted awake. Her raft had passed over a larger wave, and her head had knocked against the bottom. She sat up, looked out at the endless expanse of blackened ocean, and sighed. The Pacific currents were the only thing moving her raft along, and it had been days since the last she had seen of Hawaii. Somewhere between two days and a week of traveling across the ocean, and it felt like she was floating in place.

She had no idea what time it was. Her phone had run out of battery days ago from the constant checking of the time, and she couldn’t exactly use the sun. All she could do at this point was wait for landfall.

Waia leaned back on her raft. The entire Hawaiian archipelago had been emptied. She’d checked. At this point, she only had one idea about anywhere she could go, anywhere that could help her.

Just south of the big dot…

She looked up at the dark, cloudy sky. It was going to be a long trip.