Large flakes of snow fell lightly over the mountain settlement as night blanketed the sky above. Columns of flame and tongues of fire consumed the mayor’s mansion in its entirety. The flame itself was so large that it lit up half of the settlement itself, along with a good amount of the mountain behind it.
Inside were the many corpses of the dead colonists, all of whom rested atop burning and charred bundles of wood. The great pyre reduced everyone and everything inside to dust and ash and bone.
The only things that remained whole were the Prophets’ invasive cybernetics and the rock that surrounded them.
All five of them stood right outside the courtyard, far enough from the fire, but close enough to feel its heat. They bathed in its warmth, and chased the cold from out of their bones. They watched as the fire consumed it all, and cleansed the colony of their corruption.
Amal’s eyes were reddened and wet with tears. When she spoke her voice was soft, yet cracked.