There was an intense crack in the sky that echoed through hundreds of miles, followed by a lightning strike that landed in the middle of what used to be a small town. The sky was filled with dark, stormy clouds that warned all who gazed upon it of the coming storm. The town where the lightning had hit lay in ruin, nothing was left of whatever order this town used to have. Bodies of women and children lay dead in the straight, violated and beaten beyond the point of recognition. The men of the town could be seen hung upon every inch of the town. Clearly, they had been tortured and skinned alive. Fires were spread out through the town, causing the air to be filled with soot and made it extremely difficult to breathe.
These were only the obvious of signs of destruction, much darker things happened in this village, which was obvious by the smell. A man stood where the lightning had struck. The man wore a dark uniform. The coat was lined with silver and reached all the way down to be only slightly above his ankles. The boots were also lined with silver. On his chest, there was gold embroidery. He had brown hair and blue eyes and was rather tall. There was a strange aura around him, it was dark and terrifying, yet at the same time warm and comforting. The man looked around at the destruction, wearing a blank face as he did so, almost unphased by what had happened in the town. He walked quietly through the town with his hands at his side, stopping by each body and placing two fingers on their forehead. Every time he did this, a bright light would shoot from the body and up into the sky. He searched every nook and cranny of the town for bodies, only to place two fingers on their forehead. This process took him several hours, where at the end of it, he returned to the center of the town. "God help us".
