Mark of the Nightmares

ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW.

.......

The day was swiftly approaching.

Soon, the skies would open up, and hellfire would rain down on the world of man.

Despite the apocalyptic event looming over the horizon, he found it hard to feel anything. Fate, as always, was a fickle mistress.

Whether he would die two days or two centuries from now, whether the world ended with a bang or a whimper, nothing would change the fact that worrying about the inevitable would do nothing to stop it. Otherwise, it wouldn't be inevitable, would it?

He would still fight until his dying breath, doing his best to defend his home and country, but he was but one man. He was weak in the grand scheme of things, and he knew that his involvement would not tip the scales far enough to save this world from what was to come.

The man let out a light sigh as he readjusted his legs in their cross-legged posture, his hands on his knees and his eyes closed.