The Sky Burns

The First Sign – The Fall of Earth

The first sign was the blackening of the stars.

At first, the world thought it was another malfunction in the orbital defense grid, a routine system failure. Then came the gravitational distortions, the unnatural static in communication relays, the way the air itself hummed with an eerie resonance.

Then, the sky split open.

From the abyss of space, Kran warships emerged, monstrous and organic, their hulls shifting with biomechanical plating that pulsed like living tissue. The sheer mass of the armada eclipsed the heavens, casting a suffocating darkness over the cities below.

Orbital defense stations fired automated salvoes of railguns and plasma lances, streaking toward the void like burning comets. But the Kran were ready.

Adaptive shielding absorbed the first wave of attacks. Then came the counterstrike.

Tendrils of crackling energy erupted from the warships, latching onto the orbital stations, draining them dry in mere seconds. Explosions rippled across the sky as humanity's first line of defense was wiped away like dust in the wind.

As the orbital platforms collapsed, twisted fragments of space debris hurtled downward, streaking across the sky like falling stars. The remaining defense fleets fired back with desperate fury, their cannons lighting up the dark void, but the Kran warships ignored the barrage, their organic plating absorbing the impacts with unnatural ease.

The Kran capital ships, massive bio-constructs, stretched across the heavens, their enormous mass sucking the very light from the stars themselves. A Kran Dreadnought, far larger than any ship humanity had ever seen, moved forward, its massive tendrils reaching out to latch onto the remains of Earth's space stations.

"Counterstrike! Now!" Commander Graves shouted, her voice rising above the roar of alarms.

But it was too late.

Another Kran dreadnought, this one resembling a living monolith, unleashed a surge of destructive energy, sending it sweeping across the orbital grid. The station detonated in a fiery explosion, sending debris spiraling in every direction.

Then, the dropships descended.

The Battle on Earth Begins

Screaming across the sky, the blackened dropships punched through the atmosphere, leaving trails of ionized air in their wake. Cities erupted into chaos. Air raid sirens wailed, civilians ran for cover, but there was nowhere to hide.

In Neo-London, plasma bolts rained down like hellfire, reducing skyscrapers to molten slag. The ground trembled as troop carriers cracked open, spilling out monstrous Zhal'Khor warriors. Their armor was thick and jagged, more akin to a creature's natural exoskeleton than anything man-made, and it was impervious to conventional ballistics. They advanced without fear, their massive, clawed feet pounding into the streets, shaking the foundation of the city with each step.

The Terran Defense Force scrambled, their mechs and exo-suit infantry rallying in the streets, unleashing barrages of pulse-fire and missiles into the descending enemy ranks. Battle tanks opened fire, sending shockwaves down crumbling streets as they unleashed their high-caliber shells. Gunships tore through the sky, strafing enemy positions, their turrets blurring in a cascade of flashing rounds.

But it wasn't enough.

A Kran Seeker-Class Warform, a hulking creature clad in shimmering voidsteel, landed amidst the defenders. Its massive legs buckled as it slammed into the pavement, sending a shockwave through the ground. The Kran Seeker turned its head, its obsidian eyes gleaming with predatory malice, and raised its arm.

With a mere motion, it sent a sonic pulse rippling outward. The wave shattered helmets, ruptured eardrums, and liquefied organs. The battlefield was drenched in human screams as the defenders crumpled under the destructive force. Some soldiers were thrown back with such force that their bodies shattered against buildings, blood and bone spraying across the wreckage.

The Kran Seeker let out a war cry, its voice a guttural roar that echoed for miles, and the remaining warriors charged in behind it, overwhelming the Terran forces with brutal efficiency. Every shot fired seemed to be absorbed by their armor, every explosion swallowed by their unrelenting advance.

Desperate Resistance in the Streets of Neo-London

In the heart of Neo-London, the Terran Defense Force dug in, forming defensive lines behind makeshift barricades. Exo-suits powered up with a roar, their heavy weaponry poised for the next wave. The streets were littered with burning wreckage, twisted remnants of broken structures, and fallen soldiers. Gunfire echoed from every corner, but it felt like an endless ocean of enemies was closing in.

"Focus fire on the Zhal'Khor!" Commander Graves barked, her voice hoarse with exertion. "Don't let them breach the line!"

But even as they fired, the Kran charged forward, their warriors roaring as they closed the gap. One soldier fired a rocket launcher at a charging Zhal'Khor, the explosive warhead slamming into its chest with a brilliant flash. The creature staggered but didn't fall. Instead, it roared in fury, swinging its massive axe toward the soldier.

The axe sliced through the air with terrifying precision, severing the soldier's arm clean off. The man screamed, clutching the bloody stump before another Zhal'Khor warrior kicked him aside with a contemptuous grunt.

"Brace for impact!" a voice shouted.

Before anyone could react, a thunderous explosion tore through the streets. The ground shook as another Kran troop carrier crashed into a nearby skyscraper, its descent ending in a violent explosion of molten debris and twisted steel.

In the midst of the chaos, an enemy dropship roared past, opening fire with its pulse cannons. A squadron of Terran gunships rushed to intercept, the screeching wail of their engines filling the air. The two forces clashed in a fiery ballet of weapons fire and agility, but despite the Terran efforts, the Kran dropships were too fast, too powerful.

The Sky Darkens

Above, in the void, the Terran capital ships engaged the Kran armada. The T.S.S. Dominion, a supercarrier, launched its last wave of bombers before a Kran Dreadnought impaled it with a gravity lance, twisting the ship apart in a cataclysmic implosion. The shockwave rippled through space, shaking the remaining fleet and sending debris raining down toward Earth.

But the battle wasn't over.

The Kran continued their relentless assault, their ships unleashing waves of annihilation, eradicating Earth's remaining defenses. Terran fighters fought valiantly, darting through the wreckage of fallen starships, their plasma cannons slicing through enemy fighters like a hot knife through butter. But the Kran were not to be outdone, unleashing monstrous bio-torpedoes from their dreadnoughts, each one detonating in brilliant bursts of energy that sent entire fleets careening into the void.

The Last Stand in Washington D.C.

In the ruins of Washington D.C., Tobias Sinclair stumbled through the wreckage, his rifle shaking in his hands. Around him, soldiers fought in the streets, their once-proud banners now burnt to cinders. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of burning flesh and ozone heavy in the wind.

A Kran warrior rushed at him, its serrated blade gleaming with human blood. Sinclair barely had time to react—

BOOM.

A spell detonated mid-air, sending the warrior flying backward in a heap of charred flesh. Sinclair turned, breathless, to see Elyssa Varrow standing tall, her eyes burning with raw power.

"You're late," he coughed.

"We're all late," she replied, raising her hand. The air shimmered as arcane glyphs burned to life around her.

The Arcanum Veil warlocks surged into battle, their magic creating a violent contrast against the mechanical terror of the Kran forces. Columns of fire erupted from their hands, incinerating Kran soldiers where they stood. Spectral blades materialized, slicing through the air to cleave enemy warriors in half. Telekinetic force shattered the battlefield as witches summoned storms of lightning and hail, turning the sky itself into a cauldron of destruction.

Yet, for every Kran that fell, more descended.

Sinclair fired into the chaos, his voice hoarse as he barked orders into his comms. "Hold the line! No retreat!"

A blast rocked the ground, sending him crashing into a pile of debris. Above him, the looming shadow of a Kahl'Nir assassin descended, its obsidian blade poised for the kill.

Sinclair stared at death itself.

And then the world went black.

Earth had fallen.

The invasion was complete.