Post by therevolution on May 29, 2013 8:56:09 GMT -5
An age of peace.
Your television hisses and erupts into static, before your programmed resumes. But... wait. There is something wrong.
You can see a dark figure, his body shrouded in shadow. He holds a cigar, the end lit with an ember fire, and a billow of smoke rolls from his head. He appears to be wearing a military uniform, and the only definition of his face is the whites of his teeth, drawn into a cruel half-smile.
"Greetings, children. Your time is over.
Velcome, to ze time of var."
The image cuts...
And the transmission fades. And, outside, you hear the first explosion.