The Dark Ambassador

The panels split and arched like the mouth of a gigantic onyx crab.

The opening of the leader ship spilled tendrils of a foul reddish mist. Then the very air trembled with a volcanic rumbling thrum.

All the survivors present covered their ears as the sound expanded, dropping into frequencies that vibrated their organs. Many shrieked. Their cries drowned in the thunderous knell.

Tears streaked through the ash on their faces revealing hints of the colors and creeds that used to define them. They no longer had race or faith, or even names.

They were the Defeated.

The booming tone ceased. Silence echoed, and the people of Earth tensed, full of fear.

The portal on the invader's flagship vessel was relatively small, perhaps twenty feet high, and jagged with the once-flush iris of panels.

The Defeated jumped simultaneously as a fell voice thundered.

"Cattle. You will no longer defy us," the Ambassador commanded through its man puppet. "As of now, your species is extinct."