“Heh, only one.”
Stupid words from the stupidest of them. It was to be expected, but as the Soul Eater pulls it’s gleaming blade, a blade forged by the very fires conjured by Emma-ō’s spit, they knew by coming to work tonight, they orphaned their children. When as children themselves and forced into being soldiers, they widowed their wives.
“Sore o subete fakku,” their leader cries and thankfully charges first, leaving the other two not waiting to be last. But it doesn’t matter.
The Soul Eater is still hungry after such a meager meal.
Mammals went back to the water as the fish came ashore and nobody much cared about the birds. They traded places these distant relatives who share a genetic link to an amoeba who thought she could be more.
“More what?” her mother asked her one Christmas, “what do think you can do? Be better then the rest of us?”
She didn’t think that, because she already knew she was better than the rest of them and their asexual nature. She needed to be more, she needed New Yeast.
When the sky was filled with the black shapes and the sun and moon disappeared, human memory prepared for the worse.
Life as a power cell
No one knew what was to come, then the communication satellites were cut off. Soon after the power and after that all hope.
But gradually one day they left and returned the sky and the sun and the moon. And all that remained was being disappointed the every day just started again like life had never stopped. That they never took from us what they did.