War Of Games

War Of Games

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WpMetadataNoticeHuling na-publish Wed, Apr 26, 2017
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Fiction
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Entry 1: April 22, 2156 Before I had realized that I was dreaming I had a rather interesting dream. On a day where the sky runs dark, there is a single glare of light falling from the skies. Only some will cherish this moment in history, while others will look back thinking, "This can only end badly, very badly...." After 2.00pm on the day the sky runs dark, a strange figure appears out of the skies. This figure looks like a large mango with silver painting and a shining top, that reflects the single glare of light falling from the skies. As the figure lands on the ground many turn their heads and look toward the odd shaped structure, coming out of the structure was a strange fluid that looked and smelt like gasoline. As this fluid becomes visible to the naked eye, many soldier like forms come from the structure. With eyes as blue as the sky and armor of the Templar, came the Zealots of Stars. Following from the single glare of light came another light falling from the skies, with the shape of a familiar logo that we all know and all know well. The logo of Skyrim, as to be believed, others looked toward the other falling object from the skies, the war between games, the war between Skyrim and Protoss has begun on our planet! Whose side are you on?
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PHANTASM SERIES BOOK FIVE ---- Tryst (noun): a private romantic rendezvous between lovers, "a moonlight tryst". ---- Your eyes drifted upwards catching onto the glint of the sword that had saved you and following the curve of the blade upwards until you came to a knarled hand, with dirt under the fingernails. You followed the arm upwards until you reached his face - partly obscured underneath a green and white striped hat. You were able to catch onto blue eyes and the scruff of a beard underneath a mop of blonde hair though. What drew your attention most though, was the crow's wings behind him, flared out and glinting by the light of the sword. You hadn't even heard him swoop down for the approach. For someone who hadn't been seen in over a century, the Angel of Death looked young... too young. But then he was spinning away, wings flapping behind him so that he hovered over the ground as he sliced through anything that came too close for comfort. Even the skeletons a ways away weren't safe from his flames when their zombie counterparts came staggering too close. Soon enough, the dark forest was alight with burning undead creatures, providing a light source for you to stagger up to your feet as the Angel slid his sword back into it's scabbard. You weren't expecting him to round on you like he did, fire in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

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