Chapter 22: To Rule What Remains

Tethys burned.

Red Myra sonic-boomed her way into the choking atmosphere.

At the wheel, Varangr weaved the ship at sharp angles, avoiding great pillars of black smoke.

Etzli crowded into the cockpit with Greenleaf and Malcolm, where their hot breaths and body odors filled the cramped space with the stink of anxiety. They all smushed up against Varangr's back and stared out at the chaos below.

"I've never seen anything like this," Etzli said.

Malcolm shook his head. "Who has?"

"I have," Greenleaf admitted.

They looked at him. Even Varangr turned around in his seat to shoot Greenleaf a startled glance.

The soldier's face was gaunt. "It's a strange thing about fallen civilizations. Any number of causes can bring it about, but when it happens, it always plays out the same way. It's like a dance with the same moves, the same atrocities."

Off in the distance, explosions flashed brighter than the sun.

Etzli shaded her eyes with her hand. "Who are they fighting?"