How strong is your faith to go beyond the veil?

Through the vastness of space and time, beyond the comprehension of men, there lies a world corrupted by evil. Though a rather new addition to evil, men fight and kill. It is a dark world, constantly involved with terrible storms. Lightning licks the skies like that of many snakes. The wind cyclones dig toward the core of the world. No cities exist anymore. Few villages can claim more than a few hundred people. The fortresses of the population maintain a war-like mindset, each with a leader that seeks the demise of the others. They drag their mighty towers across the sky, powering their fearsome tracks through the ever changing landscape. Fear chokes out any hope that may have existed.

    There exists one that remembers the old days. The days when the stars shone in the sky. Back when grass and trees could be seen in the wild. Back when animals were friendly, not wild beasts that were consumed by the plasma skies. Their eyes had become blind from seeking what once was.

    From atop a hill sits a wanderer. A person that seeks to see what was lost. They have always sought the sky to see the stars. A fruitless effort, but not one without merit. Indeed, that is the single hope that keeps the world from falling completely into the void of death.

    Two fortresses crest the hills and see one another. Their portholes opened up and aged cannons appeared. The thunder in the sky competed against the thunder on the ground. Explosions rocked the earth. The wanderer pulled forth their bow. set one of twenty arrows in place. A cyclone descended from the sky, separating the two fortresses. The wind was stronger than the two giant metalic beasts. The blue collection towers were like horns being sharpened. Every lightning bolt was not wasted, the energy was collected and used to fire at their foes. This was civilization, or perhaps the end of it.

    The wanderer unslung their hunting bow. Such a thing was considered outdated and antique, but to the wanderer it was the perfect item to show the dedication to the old ways. Though the bow could not hope to pierce the metal, it seemed to be fated as the right choice for the current situation. 

The cyclone whipped around. The bow twanged and let loose into the sky. The arch was perfect and each arrow was twanged with each shot. Though they were not really aimed at anything, they soared and the wind of the cyclone picked them up and sent them soaring into the sky. Each one struck lightning and became a solid plasma bolt. Ten drove themselves into each of the fortresses collection towers, the solid plasma forced the towers to explode. The explosions rocked the world, and oddly enough each blew toward the sky. The clouds parted their storm for just a moment and for the briefest of instances. The stars were seen.