Three days had passed by as we rebuilt our broken Burrowbee. There was an old man living with us. He said that he had news. He was a scholar amongst others that studied history. His group had a way a secret thing that let them speak from far. He spoke of the things his friends told him. Icebrunt had been ravaged. The entire landscape had been reshaped by people from the sky. It was not just us that witnessed these harbingers of chaos. Rivers had vanished. Hills were flattened. Mountains burst from the earth. Inland villages had been swallowed by huge, gaping chasms. Only settlements living on coasts had not fully vanished. Yet each one, like ours, was hurt and razed. No person had shelter. People were brought low by hidden threats, sky people and giants. It has come to us the words, World Woe. Apocalypse is here.
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