But by all accounts, they had been lucky. Not even a hundred metres away from them lay the Giant Kings body, having carved a deep trench into the ground. From where they stood, all the way towards the horizon, that trench ran, erasing everything that it came in contact with.
Had that trench been rotated by merely a quarter of a clock, then they would have been less than history. It would have been as though they had never existed at all.
The men didn't speak to each other as they stood up, all black and filthy, their clothes torn and their weapons broken. They wore shell-shocked looks on their faces and staggered around like zombies, saying everything that needed to be said with their eyes.
Ermos wasn't really sure if everyone had made it. He looked at them to check, seeing that Harkin and Sol were on their feet, with a few more of their comrades. He shrugged. He'd done what he could.
