Screaming red skies the color of blood, the color of both life and death, spread across the horizon. Clouds were afloat in the scarlet galaxies and falling from above were drops of tears, silent, dangerous, chaotic tears.
Standing in the middle of it all was a man, faceless and nameless. He looks up at the sky and oaths. He oaths to the angels and demons, to the reigning seas and quilting heavens that now casts a shadow of deep red form above. He oaths that no tragedy, no chaos or no despair shall ever happen again.
Lightning strikes for, the blood sky and impales him straight at the back. He neither complains nor shouts, he just obliges and falls. His head touches the floor with a loud bang, yet not a scar is left on him. He lies on the floor, as if sleeping with peace.
All of a sudden, desperate fog is present. It covers, blankets and shades everything that is of earthen soil. After minutes that seem like millennium, it is gone. So is the figure that was numb and motionless on the ground.