Grey buildings raced by the dropship as it charted it’s course through the city of Carpetree. The engines roared, echoing off the concrete all around, deafening those caught nearby. Light glinted off the wet surfaces all around the moon. The ship was on route to an Ascension chain, ready to transport some newly converted followers for the one true Lord and Savior. The Bishops were going to bless and load up the newly chosen.

  The ship rounded the corner where the Gellical devout were to be stationed, but instead of a faithful meeting, a massive heretic, one rge and brown stood among a wreckage of carnage only the most heinous sinners could commit. The scanners picked up dead Deacons all around and an Officer of our Lord downed, missing his head.

  Red lights beamed off the console onto the Pilot gnced back to his commander, “Sir, the nding zone has been compromised by rebel activity. No survivors. Orders?”

  The Naval Officer stepped forward, hunching over to gnce at the monitors, his face covered in red light. Code name, “Big Bear” was standing at the nding sight, it’s massive body hovering over one of his fellow officer’s body. Several fires were raging; smoke billowed into the air. All the Deacons sent were soulless corpses.

  “Disgusting.” The Naval Officer stood tall, puffing his chest out. “Send a quick report to command, and then we will engage this heretic with no mercy. Killing this abomination will be a gift to God, and our fellow believers.”

  The Pilot nodded, typing away on his console, quickly closing the gap on “Big Bear.”

  The Naval Officer turned and looked on his small group of Bishops, ready to drop on his command. They were loyal, brave, and faithful. The best followers he had ever seen in his life of devotion to his Lord. They would bring about change in this gaxy, by blood and sweat, and create the gaxy in his Lord’s image, the way it was intended before the filth of corruption took over and tainted all things good.

  The pin empty cargo bay of the drop ship was exactly as God intended. Simple, yet effective. Pale blue lights lined the sides, glinting off the Bishops’ armor. Their shaved heads branded with holy symbols passed down by God himself. They were fierce and devout, as all the Gellical Collective were.

  “Listen up, brothers!” The Bishops snapped to attention. “You are all God’s chosen warriors. Out there is the heretic, ‘Big Bear,’ and your job is to smite it from the face of this pnet with no mercy, as the wicked are offered none. You shall avenge our fallen brothers and bring peace to their souls! Prepare to jump, say your prayers to God, and may God bless you all with victory!”

  “As God wills it, we obey!” The Bishops saluted and began prepping their gear. High pitched whines zipped about the dropship. Power maces, able to crush a pulse car in one swing, were powering up, ready to kill on a moment’s notice. They ced up their breastptes, metal pting from days of old, etched with prayers and mantras from God and the New Bible, able to keep them safe from all heretical thoughts and actions, a divine shield of God.

  The Pilot shouted over the comms, “Ten seconds to drop!”

  “Ready yourselves and don’t doubt in God, for he doubts you not! Kill the Heretics and save our new followers from damnation! That is your duty! That is God’s will!” The Naval Officer shouted out to his Bishops. An itch of envy crept into his mind, he wanted nothing more than to join them, to drop down and dish out God’s vengeance, but his neural blocker deleted the emotion as quickly as it had emerged. He was here on the ship to carry out his orders, God’s orders. That was his duty.

  The bottom of the dropship buzzed, and eight manholes opened up below the Bishops. “As God wills, we act!” The Bishops were sucked out the holes, dropping down to the wet, cold road below. Wind rushed around their robes, rippling in the wind as they plummeted.

  As they were about strike the road, their boots pulsed out, slowing their decent, bouncing them off the road. The Bishops flew through the air, nding on their feet, spshing cold water up around them. They gazed out with stern eyes at the monster that stood in their way. It was rge and ferocious, but not rger or fiercer than their faith in God. It would be eliminated, struck from record, and never spoken of again.

  Yami slowly crept behind Mama, “Uh, we got a problem. Those guys look freaky as hell.” The dropship drowned out any sound as it zipped by overhead, rippling Yami’s clothes with a bst of air. “Shit, they didn’t even slow down for drop. Who are these freaks?”

  Mama let out a low growl, writhing her hands on her slug rifle, “Bishops. The craziest of the Gellys, my deary. Best keep behind me.” She gnced down at Yami, “Unless you want to be squished into a pile of guts and smeared across the road.”

  Yami gulped, “You get ‘em, Big Mama.”

  Mama raised her Slug rifle at the oncoming fanatics. She zeroed in on the lead one running ahead of the pack. She fired her slug rifle, gritting her teeth as the recoil hit. The Slug bsted out at supersonic speeds, headed right for the Bishop.

  The Slug hit home. Smoke and fire erupted into the air. Yami jumped, pumping his fist, “Fuck yeah! You got him.”

  “Language, dear, I will squish you myself if you don’t stop cursing.” Mama’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked on the smoke cloud, “Don’t celebrate yet…”

  The smoke cleared and the Bishop pushed himself up from the floor. His chest pte burned red hot, sizzling the flesh of the Bishop inside. He pulled one of his straps and the breastpte fell to the road, cnking out, sizzling the water beneath it. His faith had protected him. Now, he must act in accordance to God’s vengeance.

  Yami’s mouth dropped, “Shi…Shoot. That’d doesn’t look good.” Yami gnced down at his submachine gun. If Mama’s slug repeater couldn’t hit them, then what would his pea shooter do?

  Mama widened her stance and began to fire one round after another. Eight Bishops were closing in fast. She had to hit them now, before they closed in. She needed to force their armor off.

  Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

  She fired over and over. The Bishops dodged side to side, not wasting time for cover, sprinting head first to meet their foe. Their feet pattered quickly through the wet streets, spshing up puddles as they rose their power maces, ready to dish out God’s justice on the heathen monster.

  Mama struck another one with a slug, bsting him back in a cloud of smoke and fire. The Bishop stood like the st one, dropping his breastpte and running forwards with no care for his life.

  Yami started to move back now, aiming his gun. It was his only weapon, he had to use it at least. He had to do something. His eyes beamed down the sights and fired at the incoming warriors. He pulled the trigger, hoping the rounds would do something.

  Brratatatata.

  The Bishops refused to flinch at incoming fire. The bullets hit home, bouncing off the Bishops and ricocheting into the ground. Their breastptes burned a little red with each shot. Yami squinted. He could swear that the outline of the Bishops fshed blue with each shot. Some sort of force field armor? Or was it their faith that protected them.

  Yami shook his head. No, it couldn’t be. He aimed his gun and squeezed the trigger hard, spraying out the st of his bullets. If they wanted to py that game, he could challenge them face to face. He wasn’t afraid to meet his fate either. His hands were shaking as he turned and ran back to the truck on fire.

  Mama gnced back to see Yami running away. Good. If he could escape here, then she had done her job in keeping him safe. These Bishops were no joke. This was a bad situation. They were almost upon her now. Soon, she would be smeared across the road like cheap roadkill.

  One Bishop lunged at her; mace extended. She dodged to the side, barely missing contact with the weapon. It smmed into the ground, cracking down with intense force. A loud bang echoed across the street as the ground broke apart, splitting the road into little chunks of concrete.

  Mama swung her rifle reflexively at the Bishop, using it as a club, smming him in the chest. He flew across the road, smming into the nearby building. Before she could get a look at him, two more Bishops were on her now, swinging their maces at her with intent to kill.

  She stepped back and side to side, but she couldn’t dodge them forever. As soon as the other Bishops made it here, she was a goner. Just a roadside attraction for the street sweeper to scrape off the road.

  Her mind raced with memories of her kids. She couldn’t die here. Not until she got to hold them one more time in her arms. She swung out with her rifle again. The slug rifle connected with a mace swing. The mace smashed the rifle into a million pieces, scattering it across the street.

  Mama grit her teeth. This was it. She had finally punched her ticket. All she hoped was that Yami had gotten to safety. The poor kid was in over his head here.

  “Back the fuck up, bitches!”

  Mama turned to see Yami standing atop a ruined car, a long slender sword in his hands.

  “What kind of a man goes eight on one on a poor old woman.” He pointed his sword at the Bishops, “Omae wa mou shindeiru.” He smirked, his whiskers trembling. He couldn’t leave Mama to fend for herself. Sometimes, even moms needed help.

  “Hyahhh!” Yami jumped from the car, sword held high. If this was his final stand. He was going to make it count. He was going to cut these fuckers down until he dropped dead.