CONVERTING WORKER #007... #008... #009...
Then the moon began to rise. It wasn't a crescent. It was a full, copper-colored disc that bled into the white sky, staining it rust. The sand hummed.
His three archers loosed. The arrows hit the salt-things with the sound of pebbles dropped in a deep well. The creatures didn't bleed. They sublimated , turning to mist and re-forming three paces closer. The wasps hit his serfs. The blue ribbon went mad.
The first wave wasn't human.