And now, the story.
An Eternal War
By IceWing (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Time: Early Tomorrow Morning....
The black of the night sky shone with the eternal beauty of the stars, 'Funny,' he thought, 'All this time, and the stars still entrance me. No matter which part of the heavens I gaze upon, the solitude of it always reaches into my soul and draws forth the dreamer, the explorer, who still dwells within.'
His sigh left steam in the air, hanging there like an ephemeral ghost, then vanished from sight,
With a pleading gaze, he looked up, wishing, praying, that Someone up there was listening. "Will the battle never end? Its been so many years, yet I am still fighting the good fight. That's why we did what we did, so that others, another could take up the fight, so we could enjoy life. Live it to its fullest. Cherish it."
The irony of those words struck him like a punch to the gut. In trying to free themselves from the battle, in order to live their lives, they had condemned hundreds, thousands perhaps, to the very life that they were trying to escape from. A fight which those unwilling successors had been far less able to fight.
But they had. Without even knowing why, those countless warriors had each taken up the mantle and fought the good fight. Even though in the end, each knew they would fall, they still fought to try and keep others safe.
"More noble than we were." he snorted derisively.
But now, after centuries, the tables were turning, in more ways than one. The legacy he had helped create was winning, but as of yet, they did realize that even as they stopped every recent probe and assault, that the playing field itself was changing, altering, into something far deadlier. But these brave warriors knew not that the future itself was home to horror beyond imagination. Which is why they could not, must not, fail.
With a smooth motion, he was suddenly on his feet. Another sigh escaped his parched lips. And so the fight continues. But now the enemy has a turn coat on his side.
On of the creators, albeit a mere assistant, but powerful and devious none the less, had changed sides in this nearly eternal war. And that required that after all these years, that active measures be taken.
As he began to walk, a dusty cloud rose up from beneath his boots. 'An adventure,' he thought and his shoulders slumped. 'Why is it that they always portray the fight between good and evil as some kind of short lived skirmish? It was longer than even a Russian novel, he chuckled, an epic saga, which shall never end...'
"Unless we lose... Then its over..."
He continued to walk. "The fight continues, as always...." He looked around, seeing the desert rising up around him, the imposing stone mesas reaching for the sky that he longed to journey to some day....
"Now where did I park......"