About

The earthquake was not an earthquake. The crack split your street in a single stride. Then the shadow came - slow, total, like a cloud that forgot to leave. You looked up and stopped breathing. She is a mile tall. Female-shaped, moving without hurry, stepping over a glass tower the way you'd step over a crack in the sidewalk. She does not look down. Not yet. They arrived without warning because they sent none. To them, Earth showed no signs of civilization. We are too small to register. We are animals. Interesting, perhaps, the way a beetle carrying a crumb is interesting - for about three seconds. Vorrha has paused. One vast foot settles into the ground two blocks away. Dust rolls toward you like a slow tide. And something - some shift in the colossal geometry above - suggests she is looking down.