Preacher Ray stood on the rocky peak of the ridge which overlooked the town. The town had maintained its identity in this chaos. Lamps glowed on the streets and people passed beneath them in their nightly activities.

The place wasn’t wealthy by the old world standards, but luxuriously rich by the new world standards. Fuel, fortune, food, and manpower in immeasurable quantity. A place of plenty in a world of little. A plate of nourishment in a field of starving creatures.

Ray turned and looked at his flock. They stood ragged and faithful in the woods behind him. Lean, hungry, and ready to unleash the righteous wrath of God with just a murmur from Ray. All he had to do was make the decision. Take the town or pass it by. A flip of the coin, a measuring of the pros and cons, or a consulting of the councils for lower men.

Ray pulled out his tiny golden crucifix and waited for it to speak.

“Go on,” Gold Jesus said, “take your inheritance from those who don’t deserve it. All the Earth is for the meek, now.”