Hakim was drenched in sweat that was hard to see in the intense red light. He wasn't breathing heavily, his mind too far gone to even think about fatigue.
He stopped dragging his tool against the dirty soil, turning his head up to stare into a seemingly endless void of bright red.
The Red stared back as if an uncaring and silent God.
Hakim's eyes were completely changed to red being reflected, his mouth agape in wonder that began to curve slightly into a smile.
He turned back to the ground, digging trenches and toiling away at the soil.
More people walked around carrying large sacks of seeds, spreading them out with their movements stiff and robotic.
As if coming from artificial beings.
Lifeless corpses animated by power radiating from The Red.
Hakim crawled along the ground, digging deeper holes with his bare hands before people came to throw seeds inside.
Hakim covered them with dirt, looking around to see hundreds of other people doing the same.
Clawing their weakened hands that have no feeling into the hard and cold ground.
Their skin becoming pale and blistered. Bruises covering their flesh as they work.
Slaved away with no possible way of resisting or fighting back.
Hakim looked over his shoulder.
Staring out at a field that looked like it disappeared over the curve of the planet.
Full of people all working and moving as if they had no say or control over themselves.
Ash-Shaytān once again sat on a throne that now belonged to him.
Sitting with a sense of boredom and flat dullness.
Once again, he had all of the power.
He controlled everything that existed.
And once again...
He grew full of lethargic contemptment.
He sighed with a tone that could make people shiver while his eyes were barely open.
Raguel approached and stood next to him, looking out at the field.
"How are you feeling Lord Ash-Shaytān?" Raguel asked.
Ash-Shaytān was silent for a few seconds, lifting his leg up onto his throne to lean in a way of clearly not caring.
Not taking anything seriously.
"Fine...I am fine Raguel." Ash-Shaytān said.
His voice sounded soft and dry.
Tired from nothing.
"You do not look fine Brother. What can we do for you?" Raguel asked.
Ash-Shaytān didn't even turn to look in her general direction.
He continued to stare forward across the endless field of work and suffering without emotion.
The field was silent.
Not even wind was blowing across the land.
"They are doing well. They are obedient pets. I have grown quite a liking to these Humans." Ash-Shaytān said.
Raguel nodded, her eyes covered by a pair of wings below her shoulder blades. Wrapped around no other part of her face while her other wings were hidden inside of her body.
YOU ARE READING
Grand Angel
FantasyA being created by the blood of a dying God, later becoming the one who sets everything in motion. The one who really puts the entire Anomaly Saga into motion.
