Rain.
The settlement was destroyed and upturned, a field of deep and wide craters and rubble strewn across what had once been a beautiful plain.
The skies were dark and grey, rain falling harshly, cold and sharp, pelting down with roaring might.
Across the ruined landscape, white boxes could be seen and, one after another, they burst open, the white shards fading to nothing.
From them, humans emerged.
Uriel blinked as the cold air of the settlement touched his skin, closely followed by harsh rain that soaked him. He undid his mantle of natal aether and let himself be drenched.
The smell of blood in the air was thick for some reason, and across the expanse, he could faintly sense the lingering natal aether of all the dead, as well as those still clinging to life beneath the rubble.
Through the passive effects of his sensory ring, he could hear their whimpers, their weakening heartbeats, and through the dormant filter of his sparks, he could feel them.
