#sddf

No-Name felt no shame. But it did feel sympathetic. To be one of the few remaining of your kind. Forced to keep going, as if your people's relevance and traditions don't die when you do. It was an exhausting battle. No-Name could still sweep crowds off their feet with the rage they possessed. The hopelessness they tried not to consider bathing in. But unlike itself, the humans would continue to spawn. They always did.

The false god had taken a loose form. More of a suggestion of a shape, no patience to make itself digestible.

"Where are the rest of you?"

The person remained kneeling in the ash. Palms dragging through the same ash their knees resided in.

That was the only sound between them for a heavy minute of so. A low hum slipped from their mouth. A start of a song? A sound of recognition? No-Name was unsure but remained.

As a whole, the human eye wasn't as perceptive to its non-solidified forms as some humanoids'. The human could feel and hear the false god. No-Name was sure of this.

The human continued to hum low, words stumbling from their mouth. Syllables occasionally cut off with more hums. Their hands grasping at the ash beneath them. Unbothered as it coated their clammy hands, the rest slipped between the gaps in their fingers.

No-Name remained silent, letting the moment proceed. A curious, but nonsexual form of voyeurism occuring. It could be admitted that it had been the downfall of many true aliens. The curious spirit that burned within. The need to watch, to analyze. To learn.

Some humans and humanoids had possessed the same trait. The false god had learned over time. From followers who had entered purely out of boredom or a near obsessive need to understand. They didn't always stay. But they always came.

It caught site of the metallic glint in their lap. Barbaric weapon that only humans and their easily moldable lap dogs would bother to use.

"Where are the rest of you?" It repeated firmly, voice strring the air around them.

No-Name should have felt fearful —or at least wary. Most aliens, humanoid or not, were firmly against them. Too much history. But bullets weren't as deadly in its current form. More of a disturbance.

And the human remained humming. Choosing to ignore the disembodied voice. The small wrinkle in their forehead gave away that they had heard the false god.

The human sang now. Lyrics a low register, passionate. Letting the wind carry their voice.

No-Name felt their incessantly buzzing particles begin to still. Confusion, shock. The gun was in their hand. Not a tremble in sight as they aimed at their temple.

It heard the quiet click of the safety being removed. Another lyric is sung like a tribute to the air around them. To whom? Not No-Name even it knew that. But before it could utter another word, the gun fired. A sudden bang to disturb the silence.

Bullet piercing skull, blood splatter, body face down in ash. Wind continues to make the flap on the tent declare its presence. Sure their eyes were still open when the gun was fired. But they didn't have to worry about ash stinging their eyes any longer.

No-Name stared blankly at the red pooling beneath them. No other colored blood. Not bright. Not fluorescent. Not even a sparkle. Just red. Definitely human.

It lingered, maybe out of shock. Maybe because of the incessant calls from multiple bridges as it wandered the satellite body it currently resided on. Maybe purely out of necessity.

Slowly, it condensed its buzzing particles into shape. Becoming the lifeless man that was now one with the ash. Mimicking their stillness. With the exception of its artificial heart continuing to beat. Closing their eyes, hands in the dead human's.

"How lucky," The false god muttered in a voice not its own, squeezing their hand until their body began to cool, "I'm sorry I'm all you had."