Inside and outside the barrier of light, a deathly silence fell.
The tribespeople sprawled on the ground no longer had the strength even to curse.
They hated.
They hated the two cold-hearted gods inside the barrier, and hated their own helplessness even more.
The Water God watched the people waiting to die with utter boredom and yawned.
"Evergreen, do you think the president will be disappointed in us when he finds out? We botched our first job."
"He won't."
Evergreen's answer was brief.
Then his attention settled on the child cradled in his mother's arms.
The child's breathing had grown terribly faint.
His mother, a woman just as gaunt as the rest, stroked his burning forehead with cracked fingers, though it could do nothing for him.
She had no tears left. All she could feel was the small life in her arms slipping away.
No... He can't die...
The numb despair in her eyes gave way to a fierce obsession.
She carefully laid the child on the ground, then braced herself against the sand and forced herself upright, inch by inch.
Her movements drew everyone's attention.
The Tribal Chief lifted his bloodshot eyes and asked hoarsely, "What are you doing, Amina?"
Amina did not answer.
Her legs trembled so badly she looked ready to collapse, but she knew where she was going—
To the pile of stone tools everyone had scorned and ignored.
The Tribal Chief's expression changed at once.
"Stop!" he roared. "What do you think you're doing? Are you going to submit to those two demons? Do you want all of us to become slaves?"
Amina faltered for a step, but she did not stop.
She reached the tools, bent down, and picked up the lightest stone spade.
The stone was cold, yet it had become her only