Visions.
Memories of the past.
Strange recollections.
Nostalgia.
A faint thrum of the heartstrings at a familiar sight.
Cain could feel it, for some reason.
He felt a deep sense of nostalgia at this feeling, as though this wasn't the first time he was doing something like this.
'How odd...'
All of Valestorm had been awoken.
Shops had been closed, and those who couldn't participate directly in the battle were moved into the Temple of Sands. Since the Temple's interior was enormous, it was more than enough to contain such volumes of power.
The rest surrounded the small city of Valestorm.
They were a motley crew.
With different weapons, different armor, different hearts, they all gazed into the distance one thought;
To protect the last bastion of hope they had.
"The key is to make the battle line and keep it as tight as possible. To prevent exhaustion, there will be constant rotations..." Gilead said calmly.
