From her position three blocks away, hidden in the shell of a building the bomb's shockwave had hollowed out, the priestess's apprentice watched the crater through cracked binoculars.

She had been sent ahead to scout evacuation routes. Had avoided the main assault by pure chance. Now she witnessed something that the cameras couldn't capture, that the generals couldn't comprehend, that the world would never understand.

The Baptized were dying. Slowly, inevitably, their shield weakening with ...