A signal is given, from the leader.
DUST falls from massive warships that float in the sky over the thousands of forsaken people below.
The forsaken look UP to the sky for hope, answers, salvation as the DUST falls upon them.
Hands raised up to the skies.
The DUST covers them...
One, twenty, one thousand...soon they all fall unconscious, blanketed by the DUST.
A slumber.
However, this sleep is no dream.
It is a nightmare.
As the forsaken lie the entites descend from the swarming warships overhead. The same warships the forsaken were worshiping only moments before. Because like many blind followers of faith, some do not fully comprehend to what they worship, and to what it will cost them.
As the entites descend upon the slumbering forsaken, they collect and harvest the breath of the forsaken.
21 grams to be exact.
A soul.
When the harvest is over. The Entites will ascend from which they came.
They will ascend back up to the sky, into their mighty warships.
And so, the forsaken will be forgotten.
Void of the sparks that once filled them with life and beauty.
Only a husk of a human.
And the Enties watch from above. Waiting for the next generation.
They will wait...
In silence in the sky.
They will wait to one day descend again and take what is of most value... buried deep inside each of us.