A strike of lightning dances across the floodlit sky, taunting the thunder, tempting it to retaliate. It smiles, smirking as it closes in, gathering followers that are responsible for the chasm of boulders that aim to conquer as they tumble rapidly out of the sky. They each mirror the other in a locked combat that causes the inferior below to meekly submit to the gods. Rain maliciously spits in the chaos of the torment, taking it’s place in the elemental battle. The spirals start to spur upwards in a torrent of fear as the war above the earth rages on. Eventually the clashes become weaker, the storm surrenders, and the skies become still, transient, as if blood had never been shed in the clouds. Rays of gold start to blossom, spreading, hugging the survivors, offering repent.