...
The plain wasteland seems to reach as far as they
can see. Surrounded by dust, sand, rock and some remains of what the vegetation
once looked alike. The dark and enormous clouds coated in the red ambience of
the sky augur the upcoming storm.
After days of marching, crawling, hunger and
fighting the feeling of getting closer and something like hope grows in their
minds. Some in the group forget the burning of their skin caused by the red
daylight and the pain of the recent nights. Others are gifted to feel these
things never again.
Their feet are tired and the thick air is
nearly overwhelming. They slowly proceed to their target. An abandoned mining
vault full of treasures if the rumours are true. Still none of their scouts came
back to confirm what they hoped to find. But they are far beyond the point of
no return. And everyone of them should fear to fail their mistress will.
Once they were called abhuman, mutant, beast and
scum. But they are strong. They are special. They are survivors. The ones which
were selected by fade and something great. Servants of a strong and quite mistress,
pleasured with gifts and the right to live and grow.
...
