Hours later, the sky had completely darkened.
The human settlement known as "Thirteen," the closest to the frontline base, was already illuminated, and the church at its center cast a sacred glow over the surrounding area.
Meanwhile, the factories were in endless operation, their workers, mere "components," beginning their shift changes.
After finishing their work, the workers left the factories in droves, walking along the lit streets toward their homes.
One middle-aged worker, disheveled and grimy, stood outside a butcher shop. His work uniform, with greasy collars and cuffs worn from years of use and lack of washing, shone unnaturally under the light.
He stared longingly at the cooked meats and hams displayed in the shop window.
"Sigh!"
After hesitating for a moment, he reluctantly sighed and turned toward a different "food store."
Not long after, the man carried two boxes of "food" to the eastern residential district of the town, eventually reaching an old and crowded apartment building in disrepair.
As he climbed the stairs, each step seemed unbearably heavy, as if his legs were made of lead.
When he reached the door of his apartment on the middle floor, he took a few deep breaths, composed himself, forced a weak smile, and unlocked the door.
Creak.
The rusty hinges emitted a grating noise as the door opened.
"Daddy's home!"
"Do we have meat to eat tonight?"
As soon as the man stepped inside, the excited voices of two children filled the small space.
He locked the door behind him and turned to see two children, a boy and a girl, around six or seven years old, running up to him with wide grins.
"I'm home," he said, opening his arms and hugging them both tightly.
It appeared that the man, Christopher Loran, was a single father raising a son and a daughter.
From a young age, Christopher had been taught by his parents:
"Child, you must faithfully worship God."
"When you grow up, inherit your father's job, work hard, and live well, then you can enter heaven."
"Never question the church. The church's words are the truth of God."
When he came of age, Christopher naturally took over his father's job and began laboring tirelessly at the factory.
His father, meanwhile, had fallen ill from overwork and was "taken by the church to rest and serve God." Christopher never saw him again. His mother passed away shortly afterward.
Following the church's arrangements, Christopher married, had children, and hoped for a different life.
Instead, endless work and the constant struggle for food, warmth, and child-rearing wore him down, just as they had worn down his parents.
When his wife succumbed to air pollution and overwork a few years earlier, Christopher lost all hope for the future.
Yet he clung to life.
First, he had his son and daughter to raise.
Second, the church taught that suicide would condemn the soul to eternal torment in hell.
So Christopher endured, working himself to the bone to save money and support his children, dreaming of the day his son would inherit his job and his daughter could marry and leave home.
Perhaps then, like his father, he would be taken by the church to "rest and serve God."
Christopher doubted this, though. He suspected the church merely eliminated the useless elderly to reduce the nation's burden. But what could he do about it?
Living on the frontier of human territory, close to the expanding infernal forces, Christopher knew their town could fall before he worked himself to death.
His sole plan was to save enough money to send his children to safety.
"Daddy," his daughter asked, pulling on his sleeve, "do we have meat to eat tonight?"
Her brother looked at him with the same eager expression.
"All the meat was sold out. I'm sorry," Christopher said with a wry smile, placing the food boxes on the table.
As he unpacked the boxes, he explained, "Maybe the day after tomorrow. For now, we'll have to eat protein blocks again."
"Protein blocks again... okay."
Though disappointed, the children didn't complain. They sat quietly at the table and began eating the gray, brick-like protein blocks.
Christopher watched them, his heart aching, but he forced a smile and said, "Eat up."
To save for his children's future, Christopher had no choice but to buy the cheapest sustenance available—protein blocks made from rats, cockroaches, and other "materials." Survival mattered more than taste or quality.
After dinner, the family gathered in the living room to pray before a statue of Jesus.
Christopher closed his eyes, lost in thought, while his children fidgeted, clearly not taking the ritual seriously.
If God truly cared, Christopher wondered, why not perform more miracles?
But he kept such thoughts to himself. Expressing them could bring the church's inquisitors to his door, condemning him and his children as heretics to be burned alive.
The church thrived on the "ignorant," who toiled, farmed, and fought for them.
Boom!
Suddenly, a deafening noise came from outside, and the lights flickered before going out entirely.
"Daddy, what's happening?!" his daughter cried, clinging to him.
"Is it demons attacking?" his son asked, his face pale.
"I don't know," Christopher said, trying to sound calm. He moved to the window and peered outside.
The eastern wall of the town had several breaches. Fires raged in various locations, including the power plant. Soldiers, knights, and nuns scrambled through the streets toward the collapsing defenses.
It was clear—the infernal forces were attacking.
The wailing of alarms confirmed his fears.
"Pack your things!" Christopher ordered, rushing to gather their meager savings and essentials. His children obeyed without question.
Within minutes, the family was ready to flee.
"Dad, where can we go?" his son asked.
"Wait and see. If the soldiers hold the line, we'll stay. If not, we'll run," Christopher replied.
Gunfire and monstrous howls echoed from the eastern wall as demonic forces pushed through.
Christopher didn't wait to find out if the soldiers would hold. Grabbing his children, he headed west, fleeing the doomed town.
As they ran, a hideous, vulture-like demon with tentacled eyes swooped toward his daughter.
Before it could reach her, a golden beam of light pierced through it, disintegrating the creature.
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