The short walk up the steep hillside overloking the small river was a lot more difficult than a few hours prior. Early morning mist made the otherwise beaten path slippery and dangerous to traverse, where each fall could result in death. Yet it was not the danger of this that weighted down the group of spacemen the most. Mac, along with Charlie, was dragging behind the rest of the group, his thoughts heavy and murky. Fear was gripping his heart with it's icy claws ever tighter with each unstead step he took. He could not explain it, but his gut was telling him to stop, stop and run away, to the ends of the world if need be... something was about to happen on that hilltop, and his body was screaming for him to not be a part of it. Yet he trudged on, his spiraling mind focusing on the silhuettte at the front of the snake-like procession. Alexander. He has known him for his entire life, and even now, he believed he had a plan, something to get them out of this situation. His mind briefly flashed images of them playing as kids in the parks of the metrapolitan city they lived in.... getting snacks from the local bakery... falling asleep after playing video games for the entire night...

The memories were washed away in a flash though, as he realized they have made it. The misty hilltop was quiet, misty grass gently swaying in the small breeze. Was he an artist, he might have thought this scene tranquil and worthy of capture in a painting. But his shaking mind had no time for that, as it was busy focusing on the large group approaching them, the figure in their centre the source of his shaking hands.
As moments passed and the group steadily approached, Mac slowly made his way to the front, standing right behind Alexander. Unlike many others, he was not wearing his space suit, the priestesses tattoo clearly showing on his forearm. Standing with hands in his pockets, his gaze was that of a predator, the tired eyes of a few hours previous completely gone. No doubt he already had a strategy to solve this situation, Mac thought. Standing this close to him helped calm his shaking body, filling him with a warm feeling.
Hope.
It was now that he realized why he always felt attracted to him, ever since they were kids in that giant, dreary city. He was a beacon of hope, endless like the blue summer sky, always looking forward to a future only he could see. He drowned those he met in his light, making them believe that perhaps there were better things in this world meant for them. Yet, as he stood here, Mac could see this blue sky darkening, the light of the beacon going out. A lump formed in his throat, preventing any sound from escaping his lips. After what seemed like eternity, he finally managed to speak, "Ale-"
"Jonathan!" Alexander suddenly exclaimed, extending his arms outwards, a smile on his face. "You should have told me you were coming, I would have prepare-"

Bang

The dark red blood splattered over his visor as Alexander's body slumped lifelessly on the wet grass under him. Time stopped. The ground started twisting from under his feet, making him fall to his knees. If before his mind was a storm of throughts, it was now the endless void of space, empty and dark. In front of him, the dead body of his best friend laid, blood and brain matter slowly seeping from a large hole in his head. His eyes, moments before still looking at the distant horizon were now cold and unfocused, even in death threatening to pull him into their depths.

"Kill them all."

The single sentence stabbed at him like a needle, breaking the spell on him, and for a moment focusing his mind. As gunshots ringed all around him, he looked up, a mix of sadness, hate and desperation on his face. His eyes met with his friend's killer's, the two cold blue orbs piercing like bullets through him. With a shaky voice, he could manage just one short sentence.

"He was your brother, Jonathan..."

"No, he was a traitor and a rebel. And this was his fate."

As Jonathan raised his gun again, Mac's mind once again flashed. He saw the future this will bring. He saw the opression, the purges, the endless fires. He saw the endless wars, the piles of bodies and rivers of blood. He heard the cries of millions and the laughs of the wretched few. And among all of them he saw Sanallites, their mutilated bodies on full display, hoisted on crosses like warbanner of a new era, a crimson horizon engulfing them in fires of hell.

And then, everything went black.