Thunder rakes across a darkened sky. This is the hour the sun should rise, but today there will only be the light of hungry flames as they crawl over barren earth, searching for their next meal. Nothing deserving of life still moves. The dead lie awaiting a savior that will never come. Man’s hubris has claimed its due and those that survived have learned nothing, fighting amongst themselves as the ground at their feet begins to quake. Their squabbles keep them occupied as the sound of a thousand heavy feet racing across dry clay draws closer. The air is thick with blood yet to be spilled. Not until its hot breath is upon their backs will they see the oncoming herd. Brutal, unstoppable, unimaginable force without mercy and without remorse. There is no hope. Phantom Glue is coming.
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