Under a darkened red sky, the slain lay strewn across the battlefield.

Carried upon the wind are the wails of anguish coming from those who had barely survived the bloody battle but now wish for death in their mortally wounded state.

With open arms, it would not be long before death would accommodate their wishes, welcoming them in its cold embrace.

In this ethereal realm of despair, the price of existence is blood and much of it had been shed.

All that remains on this soon to be silent battlescape are the fallen and their weapons of choice that have led them and their foes to extinction!