Two waves of light crossed the prairie that night. One pale and cold. One a crackling green fire. When they passed, the dead opened their eyes on a world that was not Earth, beneath a sun that ran like a tube across the sky.
Earth is gone. Its people were exterminated and then rebuilt, reassembled on a vast constructed world by powers with reasons of their own. The survivors call the morning they woke Awakening Day. Not everyone woke, and not by accident.
The enemy has a name now. The Accipiters. Ten feet tall, ancient, and uninterested in mercy. They did not bring humanity back out of kindness, and the thing that walks out of the fog at Fort Brazos did not come to talk.
What follows is the oldest human story told at an impossible new scale. A scattered people decide they are not finished. They bury their dead, raise their children, take up the technology of their captors, and begin the long, brutal climb from holding ground to reaching the stars. The war for what comes next has only begun.