In a world of smokey whiteness, a Nomad giant stood, his expression furious. He must have been at least 20 meters tall, and it made all the peaks and crevices of his ugly expression all the more obvious.
He knew that the moment he attacked, there was no going back. But he also couldn't allow his people to be wiped out to the last man like that. So the moment he did take action, he had already signaled to everybody else. This bloody war would have to start now.
Just like Leonel had thought, there was simply no way that everyone would be so casual about the actions of the Gods… in particular, those in favor of the culling. They too had become Gods, wading through piles and miles of corpses just for the chance to sit at this height and then what… to watch as their people were massacred year after year just so that those at the top could continue to sit pretty and unperturbed? How could they be willing?