I stood in a desolate land, surrounded by corpses of all shapes and sizes. Flashes of lightning blinded me. Each time my vision returned, the battlefield changed, but the nature of the scenery remained the same.
Decaying ruins of brick and stone, their majesty long lost.
Silent graveyards known only to the dead.
Vast, desolate plains where not a blade of grass could grow.
A continent frozen in ice, where night reigned forever.
Volcanic lands engulfed in fire, ash, and darkness.
Hot, dry deserts where the sun burned the ground.
Dark lands besieged by cataclysmic storms.
The landscapes were varied and endless. Each evoked a sense of wonder and awe. I had never seen any of them before, yet I was somehow at home with all of them.
As I looked at the landscape, sadness and frustration gripped me as my anger began to rise.
At the center of each scene was a lone man standing atop mountains of corpses.
