183 Out Of Touch In The Right Way

It all started with a bright flash of light. Brighter than the artificial sun in the sky and hotter than Hell, if it still existed. Waves of dreadful heat and fire covered the land in an unholy baptism from the depths of the world. 

Itroch had disappeared. Every single remnant of the ancient city had been vaporized, removed from existence in an abrupt flash of brilliant light. In its place, an immense mushroom cloud now loomed over the glassed landscape, as if to serve as a warning. 

From who, for what, and for whom was unknown. But the message was clear as day for all who observed the scorched land ahead — they were bugs.

Insignificant creatures. They were but water fleas skirting along the surface of an immeasurably deep ocean. That they merely stood atop an iceberg, unaware of how truly large it was beneath the murky waves below.

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