Dark Age

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
—

From a distance, death seems the end of a story. But when you are near, when you can smell the burning skin, see the entrails, you see death for what it is. A traumatic cauterization of a life thread. No purpose. No conclusion. Just snip.

I knew war was dreadful, but I did not expect to fear it.

How can anyone not, when death is just a blind giant with scissors?

This will not end well

anyone

starts

Dark Age

Iron Gold

Dark Age

Iron Gold

Iron Gold

Dark Age

Red Rising

Morning Star

do not

Red Rising

“What does Mars mean to you, Nakamura?” I ask.

The Terran hesitates. “Hope. And you, my liege?”

“War.”