...The panels split and arched like the mouth of a gigantic onyx crab.
The opening of the leader ship spilled a reddish foul looking mist and a thrumming sound filled the air.
All the survivors present covered their ears as the sound expanded, dropping into frequencies that vibrated their organs.
Tears streaked through the ash on their faces revealing hints of the colors and creeds that used to define them. They no longer had race or faith, or even names.
They were the Defeated.
The thrum ceased and the people of Earth tensed full of fear. The opening on the invader's flagship vessel was relatively small, perhaps twenty feet high, and jagged with the once-flush iris of panels.
The Defeated jumped simultaneously as a fell voice rang out.
"Cattle. You will no longer defy us," the Ambassador mused. "As of now, your species is extinct."