A Nomads tale

[Volais]

He collapsed onto tyhe harsh dessert sands, the heads up display on his Nomad armor reported a dangerously low amout of water in his sytem, he needed a rest. Looking around, he spotted a rockformation with a nice shaded area. He got onto his legs and used his gun as a support crutch, and slowly made his way to the shaded area. He whipped out his canteen and gulped down half of its contents. Thirsty as he was, it would be days before the next watering hole. He decided to take the time to reflect, as he always does, on the events that had led to his wandering of these lands.

"Athen" he spoke to himself slowly.

It felt like a million ages had past since the battle of Omni-2, yet he remembered it vividly, just a young boy at the time. Somehow, he managed to defeat death at every turn. He had survived the elements, and age itself. Yet was it worth the suffering? The pain? He alone had been cursed with the duty of wandering the lands in search of one of equal greatness to General Athen. Yet how could one live in this time? In a time when the Clans are just that, Clans, seperate and divided. They fight among themselves, no man of Athen's greatness could emerge in such a surrounding. Yet it was his duty, he could not rest till he hath done so.

The images returned...the fire, the explosions, the death. He could see it all. Omnis runniong away in terror as Athen's men broke through the outer gates. He could see the buildings crumble befre his eyes. He saw with terror the mighty Athen, lying there, scorchs marks covering his body, blood flowing from his wounds. Lying. Dying. How could anyone possibly match his greatness? Even as he lie there, dying, he continued to fight. His dying fight gave our men hope.

He picked up his gun and belongings and began again, searching for something that could not be.