As if the gods themselves could sense the impending clash, one destined to result in a cataclysmic loss of life, the previously clear sky began to cloud over with ominous, storm-laden black clouds. A biting wind, fierce and cold, blew with monstrous intensity, whipping their faces and forcing the survivors to squint against its ferocity.
In the blink of an eye, the once hopeful ambiance had taken a drastic, weighty turn, evident from the grim expressions of each soldier, whether a rookie or a hardened veteran. Without being given any order, they instinctively understood that the majority wouldn't make it through the storm to come.
But at least they had a shot... Unlike Jake's ill-fated regiment, wiped out mercilessly before they even got a chance to prove their worth.
