The clouds within that Minnesota sky were grey that evening, as the gods raged within the heavens. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as we huddled in our various shelters terrified of the gods’ fury lashing out at us mere mortals. We knew that a storm was coming, of gargantuan proportions, and that the gods themselves would be unable to protect us, too busy fighting each other to care about us, their most beloved of creations. For the first time in our existence, we felt scared and alone, like a helpless child without its mother. And at that moment, when the storm broke, and the gods did nothing, did we truly know what it means to feel fear.
People speak of a calm before a storm. Well, they aren’t lying when they say that. Before the storm hit, leaving nothing but chaos and destruction in its wake, everything seemed so...idyllic. We were happy and carefree, blissful in our ignorance of the world around us. We were content in the fact that our gods would protect us from all danger, that we would be delivered from salvation on the wings of heavenly angels.
Instead of heavenly angels, we received infernal devils, bringing with them not peace and salvation, but chaos and damnation. Fire and brimstone rained from the skies, burning all those of little faith. We had brought these horrors upon ourselves, realizing too late that the gods had let the storm come, intent on punishing us for our sins. As we begged and pleaded for mercy, holding out on the hope that our creators would deign to show mercy on us. Alas, our futile prayers fell on deaf ears as the devils swept through our homes and butchered us like the cattle they saw us as. The gods had decreed that the world would be made anew, with no room for mistakes, and no room for the wretched souls such as we.
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