Fallen from hell

by SubparHoot

"They're probably still fightin', up there in the Isles. Probably didn't even notice a chunk of each militia went missing with the downing of the plate." The sniper chuckled, less out of mirth and more out of a strange childish excitement."If only they knew."

1. Prologue

Hope.

Hope was cruel; a ray of sunlight, ever beyond your reach. You could chase it and briefly transcend the landscape around you, but soon enough, that small gap in the clouds would close and you would be drug back down to the muddy trenches. The sound of gunfire would once again resonate in your ears, and the skittering of the rats would be readily apparent. The drones of the planes above would mirror the monotonous, constant fear.

The ray of sunshine would be gone now, little more than a fleeting memory. But, ironically, it was those glimmers of sunlight that would give us hope - the promise of a tomorrow free from the nightmare of today was more than enough. The isles of the Battlefield may not soon see a day bereft of war. But, deep down, we all strive for one thing.

One day, the sounds of gunfire, the drone of the planes, and the skittering of the rats will fade away. The clouds will open, and as rays of sunshine radiate from above, each of us, in our own way, will chase it. Together we will reach it and together we will revel in it.

Hope.