The child sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, hands resting on his knees. Though he seemed calm, the deep breaths he often took told another tale.

Across the room from him stood a gray-haired man in a dark gray suit, with hands folded in his sleeves. He waited in silence, for this was expected of him. Checking his wristpad would have been improper, but he estimated at least five minutes had passed.

“How many dead?” asked the boy without opening his eyes.

Olan Rash, who had been staring at the floor, looked up.

“Close to ten million across all three worlds, Your Excellency.”

The Emperor’s blue eyes popped open and fixed on the visor.

“I had expected more.”

“They are small colonies, Your Excellency, at the very edge of the rim.”

“How many survivors?”

“None.”

The boy frowned. “How is this possible?”

“It may be that prisoners were taken, but we have no way of confirming this. All we know is that our forces found only corpses on all three worlds. Three million of them on Exthenas, six on Difnus, and five thousand on Milmanarth. Which is close to the last census counts. If anyone was taken, it couldn’t be more than a dozen.”

Nashadan Prime nodded. “And they would need prisoners, wouldn’t they? To extract information from them.”

“It is doubtful they would understand our language, Your Excellency.”

The boy unfolded his legs and slowly stood. The creases in his white tunic smoothed out as it eased back into place. On each sleeve, a wreath was woven into the fabric. Inside the wreath was a hand holding a lightning bolt, poking out of a red-rimmed triangle.

“How can we be sure of this, visor?”

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“While it is true we have not seen the creatures themselves—they left each of the three worlds as soon as their deed was done—we have recordings of their ships. They are like nothing we have ever encountered or heard of before.”

The boy crossed his arms. “Show me.”

Rash pulled the hands out of his sleeves and tapped on the wristpad’s screen. An image formed, floating in the air between him and the Emperor. Star-filled darkness, at first, then a zoom revealed a thousand monstrous shapes—perhaps more. Elongated, brownish things covered with glistening pikes.

Familiar silence bathed the room for a long while.

“Do we know where they are going?” asked Nashadan Prime.

“Toward the heart of the Imperium, Your Excellency.”

“Which hints at some knowledge of our civilization.”

“Perhaps they have found ways to extract information from their prisoners.”

“Assuming they have any,” muttered the boy. “We must stop them before they make more victims.”

“That might prove difficult, Your Excellency.”

“Why?”

The visor tapped on his wristpad again. The display shifted, now showing an overview of the entire span of the Imperium. In many ways, it mimicked Del Ammar’s famous sphere, which spun in the hall below them, constantly morphing as it fed from new data. This particular map, however, was more static. He could link it to the sphere for an update, whenever needed, but there was no need for it now.

Lifting one hand, he pointed at the display and a red dot appeared.

“The invaders are here, Your Excellency.” He stabbed with his finger at five other spots, and blue marks popped up. “These are our closest fleets. About a hundred ships altogether.”

The Emperor frowned. “So few?”

Rash glanced at the boy, then tapped the air again, at a spot some distance away from the previous ones.

“This is Rimzana.” Another tap. “And Qevahr.” Another tap. “And Nimnir.”

“Oh.” Another long silence. “How long to get more ships there?” He pointed at the red spot.

“Three weeks if we’re lucky. More likely a month.”

The boy looked at his visor.

“So there will be more victims.”

“It cannot be helped.”

“We can at least minimize the casualties.”

“What did you have in mind, Your Excellency?”

Nashadan pointed at the blue spots. “Send those ships ahead to the worlds that will be hit next. I assume we know which these will be?”

“They seem to be going in a straight line, so we can guess. But, Your Excellency...”

“Yes?”

Rash stabbed at the display again and a yellow dot appeared, very close to the red one.

“We can do nothing for this world. They are too close already. If we send any ships there, they will be destroyed. We don’t have the numbers yet to push the invaders back.”

“Another small colony, I hope?” asked the boy with resignation in his voice.

The visor shook his head.

“Ovkan is a popular world within the rim, Your Excellency. Over one billion people.”

Nashadan closed his eyes and sighed.

“We can at least send them warning,” added Rash. “Perhaps some can escape before the attack.”

The boy nodded.

“Have it done. And may the Yedeni save their souls.”