Thunder boomed for the first time in the dark, forbidding night. It almost sounded like a voice. Flashes of lightning continued to light up the sky, forming an impossible image when seared onto the eyes of onlookers.
That night, only one person stood outdoors to watch the signs. A lone figure dressed in an ephod stood atop a hill, surveying the weather. It was a response to prayers, prayers for advice, for vengeance, for deliverance. And in a way, it frightened him.
In a while, he would have to report to the king. The old ruler was weary of war, for he had fought too many. The news would bring some relief to him, but for the moment, it did not for himself.
In a while, he would have to leave; but it was almost a comfort being out here, so close to his lord. In the state of chaos the known world is, caused by ruthless struggles of power and control, he would only be too glad to leave the earth.
The message brought by the thunder was clear. The Defender has been aroused. The war was his from now on. The enemies of the kingdom would be delivered to the hands of the faithful.
The last battle was beginning. The beginning of the end is near...
