he planet was lifeless—a skeletal corpse drifting in the cosmos, a singular desert, red and burning. Scattered around its massive carcass orbited several moons. The seven moons of Gomgick. They were as desolate as the behemoth they spun around. Yet this planet was sought after by every company in colonized commercial existence. Each moon had a base, and each base held a tactical point of defense against incoming rival company ships.

Manifold Industries had held the rights to this planet for over fifty years and guarded its contents jealously. From the barren lands came a mineral not unlike salt that, once ingested, gave the senses an extreme euphoric delight. Sen-sauce—all the restaurants and personnel chefs used and demanded this product. This mineral alone was a culinary staple within the five great consumer worlds.

Since Gomgick's discovery Manifold had monopolized and gained strength through their Sen-sauce sales, but history was about to change. On the sixth moon a MicroShip landed, having slipped past Manifold’s scanners using stolen codes.

There were three soldiers, snipers from Alpha Eye Division, sent to traverse the desert, tasked with the destruction of Manifold’s base. If the defense guns were brought down there was a chance, a chance the assault would be a success. This was the foothold Viro Conglomerate had been waiting for.

The sixth moon was sand dunes and flat desert, stretching beyond the horizon. This terrain was a double-edged sword—a marksman’s paradise while simultaneously being a hellish retreat if the mission went sideways. The gravity of the planet was hospitable to humans. The air was almost overwhelming with a metallic stink, but it was breathable. Leaving their ship among the dunes, the Viro employees traveled by hoverbike until they had approached their target. The three crawled two miles in the multicolored dust of this desert moon, lips cracked, mud forming round the corners of their eyes. Alpha Eyes were eyes that never blinked, eyes that saw all, techno-enhanced oculars that found their mark and killed. An Alpha sniper never missed.

The base was small, half buried underground. There was a landing pad and several massive guns placed on the four corners of the compound. Alpha Seven-Zero-One and Alpha Four-Zero-Four lay against the burning sands, rifles at the ready. They held their position as the third party member moved past the enemy lines and set up explosives along the compound's foundations.

Seven-Zero-One clutched in his hand the company manual. In times such as these its words brought him comfort. He was a twelfth-generation employee and damn proud of it. Even as a boy the scripture of the manual had been a guiding light. Faith in the company had come easily to him, steady and strong—it had remained so throughout his life. Seven-Zero-One was glancing down at the open book muttering Viro Conglomerate scripture under his breath.

“Shut up!” hissed Four-Zero-Four, lying beside him a foot to his left. “Put that blasted book away and keep your eyes on target.”

He flinched. Again his partner had spoken ill of the blessed manual. It was subtle at first but Alpha Four-Zero-Four had started to become disrespectful of the company. He was becoming a little too much of a blasphemer in Seven-Zero-One's mind.

The man was good at killing, he'd give him that, but he treated the codes and beliefs of Viro as if they mattered little. He’d only gotten worse over the last two months. It was only out of a sense duty to a brother employee that he had not reported this behavior to the Temple of Human Resources. But after his comments of late, and now this, Seven-Zero-One believed it was time to report him. If they survived this.

But in this instance he knew his partner was right. He looked from the manual and back through the scope. Demolitions Class-Nine had set the charges and was now working her way back. If all went accordingly they would destroy the base and Viro's assault on Gomgick could commence. This was the way of things: companies warred over what planets had to offer, and hostile takeovers were part of commercial warfare. The expanse of space, the wonders of the universe, were plundered for the comfort of the Five Greater Consumer Worlds.

Class-Nine was crawling back to them when two dozen Manifold foot soldiers poured out onto the landing dock.

“Hurry! activate the charges,” commanded Seven-Zero-One.

Class-Nine's fingers activated the remote device on her wrist controls. She was about to flip the switch when a sound came from above. A company ship blazed through the desert moon's atmosphere, leaving a silver trail in the amber sky as if it had inflicted a wound. Four-Zero-Four placed his hand on Class-Nine. 

“Hold,” he countermanded.

“What are you doing?” protested Seven-Zero-One. “We can't delay, our orders are to destroy the base.”

“Yes, and we will. But look. That's a high class ship. It isn't military-issue, it's a personal class vessel. The arrogance they must have. Someone important is on board, just wait and see.”

“We aren’t here for an assassination! We are here to destroy their tactical guns.”

“Let’s get both,” said Four-Zero-Four.

Seven-Zero-One began grinding his teeth with indecision, his unblinking yellow-violet eyes scanning the ship. His partner was right. If they could kill a high-ranking executive it would bring further damage to their competitor and glory to the name of Viro Conglomerate.

“Alright, we wait until we know for sure who it is. Otherwise we just activate the charges.”

The three lay in waiting as the ship landed. There was a deep rumble in the sky. They looked and saw monstrous storm clouds had gathered off to the east, dark and ominous, blotting out the amber horizon.

“Think that will be a problem?” asked Demolitions Class-Nine.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll be gone long before that reaches us,” Four-Zero-Four answered.

Out of the ship strolled an executive, his suit pristine and hair perfectly cut.

“Look at that piece of shit,” hissed Four-Zero-Four. 

The executive stopped and began talking to one of the guards. Seven-Zero-One took a deep inhale.

“Alright, Demolitions, set the char—” 

Through his scope he saw the executive's head burst with the impact of a bullet.

The Manifold soldier he had been talking to was momentarily shocked by the gore that splattered across his face, but had no time to react before he himself fell with a massive hole in his chest followed by the echo of a second shot.

The compound sirens began to wail.

“What the hell did you just do?”

“I gave that company shit what he deserved.”

“You've just given away our position! Demolitions, set the charges now!”

She obeyed orders and hit the activation on her wrist. The controls lit up and flashed red with error.

“Not working.”

“Shit, they’re jamming all signals," said Four-Zero-Four.

“I told you this was a bad idea. Can you hack the system?” Seven-Zero-One asked, looking to Class-Nine.

Before she could answer, a gunner had locked on their positions and fired. Both Alphas rolled in time, dodged the impacts of sand and returned fire with deadly force. Scopes zoomed and bullets stung the air, small mists of red followed—the inevitable outcome of a sniper’s aim.

Their rifles jolted as bullets expelled in rapid succession on the enemy compound, into the bodies of enemy employees, their ranks being dismantled with deadly precision.

Seven-Zero-One said the company's prayer aloud as he fired.

“Praise be to the consumer.”

He fired. Another fell dead.

“It is for you that my aim is true. It is for your comfort that I kill. I kill all who would rob Viro of this honor.”

“Shut up!” Four-Zero-Four screamed, without looking from his scope to Seven-Zero-One.

“Shut up! I can't concentrate with your babbling!”

A small rage stirred in Seven-Zero-One.

On the landing platform the ship’s engines fired and the craft began to lift.

Seven-Zero-One raised his rifle and took a knee, sacrificing cover for a better angle. His eyes pinpointed all the weak spots on the ship's body. Had it been a combat cruiser, this would not have a chance of working. He focused his attention on its flank, firing round after round into the fuel system cells. Half of the craft was engulfed in a bright flash and came down hard onto the compound. This activated the charges. The explosion was massive, sending a shockwave of sand and heat. All three Viro employees were knocked back. The base was a plume of fire and smoke.

Four-Zero-Four rose, laughing.

“Mission success!”

Seven-Zero-One looked at his co-worker.

“Success? The mission was a failure!”

“The base is destroyed. Viro has an opening now,” countered Four-Zero-Four.

“Manifold knows there was an attack. They’ll be ready.”

“We’ve done our job. Doesn’t really matter what happens during Viro’s strike.”

Seven-Zero-One walked over and struck him in the face. 

Four-Zero-Four wiped the blood from his lip.

“I was curious which one of us would draw first blood,” he chuckled with a shrug. “I thought it’d be me.”

Seven-Zero-One moved to strike again, but Four-Zero-Four blocked and gave a blow in turn. The Believer’s rage at last consumed him. His fists tightened. Fine, he thought to himself. Here on the sixth moon of Gomgick, he would deal with the Blasphemer himself. There was an earth-shattering rumble. The skies were engulfed by the storm.

Demolitions Class-Nine looked concerned. “We need to get back to the bikes now.”

Both Alphas stood poised to attack, but the storm at their heels took precedent. They nodded to her in agreement and disengaged. The three began their retreat.

 

he MicroShip was a day's hike on foot, and three hours drive by the bikes they had ridden on and even those were hidden two miles back. They ran with rifles slung over their shoulders. There had been no intel on the weather patterns of this moon, so they ran as if anything could come out of the skies. The storm clouds gathered, swirling with a ferocity, all color faded in the shadow of the chaos.

They ran till at last they were overtaken by the winds. Hard gusts altered the placid terrain, whipping sand in their faces. All forms of visibility would be lost to any other soldier, but not for an Alpha Eye. Demolitions held onto Four-Zero-Four's shoulder, her eyes shut tight while theirs were unblinking, unaffected, glowing yellow-violet, penetrating the storm.

The sky rippled orange lighting. It hit close, turning the sand in the air and on the ground to bits of glass.

At last came the rain, pelting and torrential. It was slow going. The ground turned to mud and the mud to standing water. Seven-Zero-One felt something wrap round his leg with a splash. It seemed that some sort of worm or snake had come out of the mud and taken hold of him. He noticed more and more of them rising out of what was once desert.

“What the hell!” he heard Alpha Four-Zero-Four yell over his comm.

They shot up from the ground, knocking all three employees about. It was then that Seven-Zero-One realized what this phenomenon was.

“They’re plants!”

Within the storm the scenery changed with a rapid burst, vines and trees of an alien nature living deep underground bloomed and surfaced. An instant jungle summoned by the rain. It was alive. 

The storm began to lessen now, only a steady downpour. The jungle was hot and wet, steam rising off the now-living vegetation, surging, pulsing, growing, right before their eyes. They regrouped and fought their way through the moving masses of plant life.

“We've lost the bikes,” Demolitions said. “Looks like we will have to make it on foot to the ship.”

“That's just great,” said Four-Zero-Four.

“What's that sound?” asked Demolitions.

Seven-Zero-One leaned into a vine that twisted and moved extending deep into the other direction.

“It's the plants, they’re drinking up the water.”

The sound of the vegetation drinking was audible. They made their way carefully, for the jungle was above as well as below, changing as it grew, drinking, storing, absorbing. Who knew how long it would be before it rained again, or if this was a regular occurrence. For all they could guess, the storm was something that happened only every hundred years—there was no way to tell.

Seven-Zero-One thought of the countless worlds and how they promised potential joy to the blessed Consumer.

“Hey.”

His thoughts were ruined by his partner walking behind him.

“I think we should talk about what happened back there,” said Four-Zero-Four. 

“It doesn’t matter. I know about you.”

“Know what? Huh?”

“I've known it for some time now. You don't believe in what we are doing. Admit it!”

He looked over his shoulder to the blasphemer. Four-Zero-Four was quiet, then answered. “I don't.”

Seven-Zero-One’s heart leapt. He’d been right.

“Why?”

“Your faith comes easy,” said Four-Zero-Four. “It's deep inside of you. As for me, there's something else—something I can’t bring out, something different, and it won't let me believe.”

“Don't you feel any shame for your blasphemy?”

“All I want is to say yes, but the truth is…. no.”

“When this is over I'm turning you in to Human Resources.”

“Do what you have to, but it’s my turn to ask—why? I kill the enemy, don't I? I kill better than most. What does it matter if I don't kill for the consumer?”

“Because you bring death without cause. All that we do is for them. The faithless are dangerous to the faithful.”

 

here was a gunshot. A large vine four inches from Four-Zero-Four's head imploded in a mess of sap. Before the other Alpha could react his helmet exploded and his body fell limp to the ground. Bits of the helmet burrowed into Demolitions Class-Nine's face. She screamed. A second shot fired, and then her shoulder was a mess of blood and bone.

A third shot severed her leg, and she fell, bleeding out. Seven-Zero-One noticed that the plants began wrapping round her body, sucking her life fluid. He fell to the ground, surveying the scene, his body half-submerged in squirming vegetation. He heard a moan, looked to his left and realized that Four-Zero-Four had survived. Against all odds he was still alive, unconscious, but alive.

Seven-Zero-One sat contemplating whether or not to leave him. This could be the answer to his problem.

Breaking his thoughts were more bullets, rupturing the plants around him. It was clear that his attackers were from Manifold—a few soldiers had climbed from the burning rubble, picked up any gun they could find and began a hunt of vengeance.

Without question Seven-Zero-One was out numbered, however they were regular soldiers not an Alpha Eye.

True, the moving jungle made it more of a challenge, but he would find them and kill for his beloved consumer. He would kill. Seven-Zero-One centered himself, was up and sprinted through the moving jungle. Two shots fired from his center right—he saw where the bullets originated and returned in kind. The dense vegetation was a suppressant for sound. The growth muted any footsteps. It was by sight alone that he would hunt.

This gave Seven-Zero-One the advantage. An Alpha Eye never misses.

He saw a soldier’s movement within the movement of the jungle. And then another. His scope was cracked, the images splayed. He breathed through the shot and focused. Feeling the air above tingle, he ducked as the atmosphere was torn by a bullet meant for him. Up he went and with unblinking eyes found his mark.

Company vs Company, the two men in this single moment took aim at each other, two wills at odds. He fired. The rifleman went limp without a noise. Seven-Zero-One had shot right through at the base of the throat—his aim had been true. He pulled the trigger again and down went the other.

 

even-Zero-One fell to his knees, soaked and panting. His gun was empty, and Four-Zero-Four's rifle had been lost in the shifting jungle. Another Manifold soldier came at him firing a pistol. For an instant both were running side by side till the Alpha ran full circle, as fast as he could around him, cutting him off from the side.

He crouched low and waited. The other passed. Seven-Zero-One attacked. He smashed the butt of the rifle over the man's face, then on his left knee, and once more on the head till the soldier’s head caved.

In his peripheral he caught movement. The Alpha spun, ready to inflict a killing blow, but halted. It was a woman. A woman in a white dress, torn and soaked. Her hair was matted, but there was no mistaking what she was—consumer. He fell to his knees and averted his eyes.

“Praise be to the Consumer!” he cried in reverence.

She had been brought by an executive for his own amusement, and along with the Manifold soldiers, survived the base's destruction. The executive had broken many laws bringing her on his private ship. She wasn’t even supposed to leave the room where he’d placed her. All that had changed with the explosion.

Now here she was in a world of utter violence her mind could not comprehend or understand. The shock was too great.

The Manifold employees had ushered her around like a child. They had followed the Alphas, hoping to kill them and steal their transportation. Wide-eyed, she looked from one soldier to the other—one kneeling before her, the other smashed to a pulp.

The Alpha expected some sort of divine word from her, but what came was a scream.

She came at him, tossing wild punches he could have easily blocked but kept his hands down in submission. This was his fault. He had shot the ship down. His stomach burned with shame.

“Please let me help you, let me help you!” he pleaded.

She stopped hitting.

She was clutching a small handbag, the only thing left from a life lost in violence. He slowly looked up into her beautiful eyes and reached out his hand. 

“Let me help you,” he said again.

She was silent, breathing hard. Her head glanced in multiple directions, seeking another option. At last she looked at him and hesitantly reached out her hand. He took it and felt a surge of holy power at his fingertips.

A gunshot burned his ears, a spray of blood wetted his face. Her grip loosened and she fell on top of him, dead. Standing over them was Four-Zero-Four, with a smoking sidearm. Half his face was covered in blood, the other crazed.

“No! What have you done!?” Seven-Zero-One screamed, her limp body soaking him with her blood. He gently rolled her over on the squirming mess of vegetation. The vines slurped as they began to drink her blood. He drew his knife, cutting savagely, hacking at the vines.

“Don't you touch her, don't you touch her! Aaaaaaaaaah!”

“I saved your life,” Four-Zero-Four said.

“She was a consumer! You killed one of the Blessed!”

“For all I knew she was going to kill you. And you were going to let her, dammit.”

“You have committed a mortal sin.”

“I'll live.”

Seven-Zero-One was all rage, spit flying from his mouth. 

“I hate you.”

“You'll live. Let’s finish our mission.”

“You willingly killed a consumer!”

“I didn't know.”

“If you had any decency you would kill yourself now. Put a bullet in your fucking skull.”

“I thought she was the enemy. I regret nothing.”

“I'm going to kill you.”

Four-Zero-Four raised his gun at Seven-Zero-One.

“Things are going to go a little different from here on out. I have the only gun left. Now I'm making the decisions. I choose that we both survive.”

Four-Zero-Four reached down, picked up the Consumer’s purse and slung it over his shoulder.

“Move.”

The Faithful remained still, defiant. Four-Zero-Four let out a groan.

“How about this. Once we get to the ship, I'll surrender. You can turn me over to HR. Sound good?”

Seven-Zero-One stood, the vines reclaiming the consumer’s body.

“Think of it this way, brother,” said Four-Zero-Four. “She was dead the moment she left the Five Greater Worlds.”

Gun in hand, he shepherded them onward.

 

he rain stopped just as suddenly as it had come. The plants instinctively began to recede into the mud to wait until another storm, leaving the Alphas once more with a barren view of the desert. The heat resumed and the wind came with it; soon all was back to sand. Above them Viro's attack had commenced on Gomgick from space.

As the sun beat down on the Alphas they walked in silence with not a word spoken between them. The sands under foot shifted color—purple to red to green, as the minerals varied. At times both Alphas looked to the monstrous battle above. To them the ships appeared as countless metallic glints and bursts of fire in the blackness. Every now and then a ship would burn through the moon’s atmosphere. 

The two came across one such wreck. The sand had turned to molten glass, solidified amongst the wreckage in jagged spires, marking a grave, glistening with a blinding brilliance in the desert sun. No life, just empty death.

Four-Zero-Four never took his gun off of Seven-Zero-One. The Blasphemer pushed the Righteous along. Each step brought Seven-Zero-One a burning hate that matched the sands they walked on. Emerging dunes beneath them held the horrors of a jungle.

The moment of the Consumer's death echoed in Seven-Zero-One’s mind. The very god he had read of and worshiped bled and stained his hands. Seven-Zero-One began to sing the anthem of Viro Conglomerate to calm himself. He was interrupted by the jaded laughter of his enemy.

“You really do love them, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“That woman—what if she really had been trying to kill you?”

“So be it. It is for her that I live.”

“You’re willing to give your life just like that? So easily—for what? For what? Forgive me if I don't sing our company's anthem with a joyous heart and pray the Alpha's Prayer with tears in my eyes. To hell with Viro, or any other company that stands in my way.”

“It's because you don't have faith, and without faith one cannot truly believe.”

“No, it's because I know what you don't.” His disposition changed from captor to a friend with a secret.

“Have you ever tasted Sen-sauce?" Four-Zero-Four asked.

“Of course not."

“I have. I remember now. That hit to my head brought it all back. Brought back the why. What if I told you…that your gods are false?”

Seven-Zero-One stopped and spun around. Both Alphas stared at each other with unblinking eyes.

“What if I told you I used to be one of them. A consumer.”

“Lies! Deceiver!” Seven-Zero-One spat.

“I can prove it.”

Four-Zero-Four reached into the woman's purse. He tossed him a personal contact device.

“Call my family's name. I remember my uncle’s number. Call. If he’s still alive, he’ll answer. You’ll know it’s true.”

“No, that in itself is against the laws.”

“Then how will you know? I couldn't know the number unless I'm right."

He put the gun up to Seven-Zero-One's head.

“Your kind don't have names—only numbers. You’re born with barcodes. Unlike you—the model employee, the unquestioning soldier—I had a name. Look up the family name Thapa.”

Seven-Zero-One took the device in his shaking hand. Then it rang and after a few moments, the longest in both of the men's lives, an old face came into view on the screen.

“Uncle!” cried Four-Zero-Four. 

The older man's eyes studied the sand-caked, blood-soaked sniper. He became filled first with recognition, then fear.

“Satya!” the older man whispered, and the screen went dead, confirming Four-Zero-Four's identity.

Seven-Zero-One tossed the phone to the ground.

“Impossible!”

Four-Zero-Four began to speak.

“I was a child, but still I used to be one. But nonetheless, I was a Consumer. I lived in the bright cities. I consumed my little rotten heart out. I didn't give a shit about you or which company gave me the product. All that mattered was that it was the best my family could get. Everything truly was a paradise until we fell out of favor, and when that happens you’re given a choice. Be executed or become an employee. I remember it now, Seven-Zero-One. I had a name before they gave me a number. Satya my name was…my name is Satya.”

If his eyes had been capable of crying, they would have shed tears. But they stared on.

“Having a name changes a person, Seven-Zero-One, it really does. I remember being in line at the City Council of Commerce. Each member of our family was given the same choice: death, or company recruitment—with a memory wipe. My father and mother had told me and my older sister that we were to choose death. I remember, I was the last to be asked. I remember, in my heart, how much I hated the companies, how they were killing my family. I made a choice of my own. You should have seen the look on their faces: shock, shame, resentment. They dragged my father away screaming, calling me a disgrace, but I didn't care, Seven-Zero-One, because I would get to kill. That was going to be my goal, even if my mind couldn’t remember why, my body would still get revenge. Now we know. Now we have the why!”

He stood tall. “Thanks to the bullet that hit me and that bitch, we both got the answer. Now there is only one truth: we kill so they can buy, and now that I remember my name I’m done with all the burning bullets.”

Seven-Zero-One exclaimed. “You…you are a consumer.”

He fell to his knees, hands clasped, head bowed, and began praying.

Satya spoke. “Get up! Don’t you dare pray to me!”

Seven-Zero-One ignored him and continued. “It is through you the company is given purpose. It is by the company I am given purpose.”

“I am not your god, do you understand me?” Satya kicked his boot against the kneeling Alpha's right shoulder, sending the man to his back.

“I'm not some divine manifestation. What about hating me?! What about all your malice towards the blasphemer?!” He grabbed Seven-Zero-One by the scruff of his jacket and shook him. “I am not your god!”

“It is for you that I do this, it is by you that I am given pur—”

Satya punched him in the face.

“Let's finish what we started! How about that? You like that?” He punched him again, this time drawing blood, but still Seven-Zero-One did nothing.

“You won't hit back? This is what you were born for. Combat! Killing! You're a company man, so come on!”

He struck him in the stomach.

“Fight back, damn you, fight back!”

Seven-Zero-One mumbled with a swollen bloody tongue. “Praise be to the consumer.”

Satya let him drop to the ground. The beaten Alpha lay on his back coughing and spitting blood, eyes unflinching. His aggressor sat down next to him. Silently he looked at the soldier, aimed his gun, but lowered it. If he pulled the trigger he would be giving him just what he wanted, so he sat thinking of a way to break the stalemate. He looked up at the war above. He now knew, in his quest for vengeance, he had become part of the cycle. No, he decided, he would not be another body on the company altar.

 

ours of silence passed. Gomgick took up most of the horizon in the sky night bright and shining. Seven-Zero-One lay in the sand, somehow the carnage happening in space gave him comfort. At least the companies were fighting and bringing the product to the Consumer. The Consumer...

His thoughts turned sour. He thought of the manual in the breast pocket of his suit, felt its weight against his chest. All that he believed within its frame: countless prayers, countless hours of dedication, a lifetime of blind faith—now in question, all because of a name.

What of the man who had beaten him? What of the former Four-One-Four's identity, and the horrid truth he had revealed? Could the Blessed and the Soldier be the same? But if they were one and the same, what did his ideology matter?

 He drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

“Seven-Zero-One. Seven-Zero-One…”

The soldier rose from his half slumber. Satya was hunched over him, rocking back and forth.

“What's going on?” asked Seven-Zero-One.

The other had a manic look in his eye. 

“You see this?” he’d been rummaging in the woman's purse again. He held up a tiny white stick between his fingers.

“Do you know what this is?”

Seven-Zero-One shook his head.

“This is a cigarette.”

Satya put the cigarette between his teeth and pulled out his knife, squeezed the grip till the blade was heated with a red-white hot edge. He held the blade to the white stick, and the tip glowed red. Smoke blew from his nostrils as he exhaled. 

“Our ship is just across the dunes.” Satya laughed. “I found it while you were sleeping. You know, I was going to leave you, let you dry out and die. But I got a better idea. It came to me as I sat activating the ship's control panel. I'm going to free you. I'm going to give you a gift that you don't even realize you want.”

“What.”

Satya took another drag. “I'm going to let you kill me.”

“What?”

“That's right. A company employee gets to kill a consumer.”

Seven-Zero-One was shaking at the thought of such heresy. 

“No!” he breathed in shock.

“Come on. You hated me until you found out what I used to be.”

“This is against all laws of the manual.”

“Look around you! At this moment, there are no laws. Only the choices we make on our own.”

“Why?”

“Why? How many of you have died for my amusement? How many numbers were lost to keep a child happy? As far as I'm concerned, you are all that I hated, manifested.”

He raised the gun and fired into the air many times. The sounds were swallowed by the moon’s desert.

“There is a single bullet left, brother. It's for you to use. I won't touch it. I'll cut you to pieces, let you bleed out slowly, but I won't use that gun. That bullet is for you to end it. My only question, will you make a choice of your own?”

He tossed the gun into the dune behind him. His grip tightened on the knife. The blade let off a glow in the dark. He looked from the weapon to Seven-Zero-One, his face furrowed with grim resolve.

“It's now or never,” Satya said. “Kill me.”

“No!”

He sprung at Seven-Zero-One. The knife flashed and the soldier’s arm burned, his flesh now a cauterized scar. The smell of burning plasma and skin was on Satya's knife as it hissed. Seven-Zero-One was filled with rage. Out came his service knife.

“Yes! At last a false god faces his zealot! There's hope for you yet!”

Satya lunged left and threw a right, then a left jab. Seven-Zero-One countered the blade with his own and gave a scar in turn.

 

he men grappled, cutting, searing each other in the half light. They rolled down the dunes, the heat of the knives melting the sand, all blood and blows. Molten glass clung to Seven-Zero-One's face. He cried out as his skin melted and charred then meshed with a layer of heated sand. His opponent's knife reached out to strike once more. Even in his pain he saw, then spun, driving the butt of his own knife across his attacker's skull. Satya answered with a headbutt. Both fell. Satya's face was bleeding. A large gash on his forehead poured into his mouth, he spat crimson.

Satya punched his face. Seven-Zero-One felt the solidified glass crack and shatter on his jawline, felt it cut and bury into his skin. Satya only laughed, raising his knife.

Seven-Zero-One had lost his blade. He saw the gun. He looked to Satya, who smiled, and dove for the weapon. He found its grip and took aim—his eyes found their mark, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet fired into the Consumer’s heart.

An Alpha eye never misses.

Satya fell to his knees. He looked up to the sky at the war that would never end, and he spoke.

“I want you to have something. I want to give you my name. It's yours. I want you to be better than all of this.”

Eyes finally dulled, he slowly sank into the sand, at peace. An identity outside of the company, free from the consumer. This was the gift he had given with his life.

Satya looked to the skies at the war that would never end, screaming, his throat raw. The dunes below were the only witness to his tortured cry. He had no way of knowing which company had been victorious. He was amazed to find he no longer cared. He had a new cause, a new mission.  Though his eyes saw most things, he’d been deaf to the pain of the system. The universe itself was screaming. But now he would heed those unanswered screams. He had been given a name, and with it a new purpose, and all the companies would come to know it.

Standing on the ship's entry ramp he stopped, held the Viro manual to his heart, the blessed texts, then tossed them into the desert sands. Heat waves distorted the landscape as he departed.

The ship launched and the moon beneath him began to shrink. Satya looked down at the sixth desert moon of Gomgick and realized he had killed and buried his god.

He was free.