Europa fell on the battlefield. An acrid fog surrounding
her end. Bitter thoughts and cramped emotions were all that remained
when she flickered, staggered and passed.
A chromatic aberration across the skies had foretold her
demise. Silver dishes, apocalyptic whines fired by lightening
strikes, destroyers of states arrived with no other warning. Smoke
stack after smoking stack belched and crumbled. The wasted land like
the tide of an imaginary sea edged ever nearer to the borderedlands
and Europa laid no response.
Multied voices never spoke as one. Fractures, splinters
and devil words led to the blasted demise. She never mustered a
knowing defence. Europa, tongue tied and black roast never ventured
beyond simplistic mutterings that could never battle an imminent
threat. She fell on the battlefield, at some future time to arise.
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