A stormy day

On and on the rain keeps pouring.

People, despite their claims of control over the world, are but victims of this vicious storm that turns day into night and night into hell, a demonstration of power from the true rulers of the Earth.
Men are mere wet witnesses to the clashing of Gods in the sky, the Titans fighting for world domination. You can almost see Thor wielding his weapon, hear him hammering the dark, iron clouds, sending unending sparks to the world of man.

The rain seems to never end, falling like tears from distant stars.

The wind is like an observer, an arrow-like referee who deals justice in the form of frozen ashes of air that hit your face like a whip. Nature bows before it, lowering its head as close to the ground as possible, trees seemingly ready to break out of the ground.

People seem puppets controlled by the hand of a mysterious force lurking behind the black clouds, using streams of water like chains, binding the world in darkness to impose its own will.

Blood is drawn when flesh and steel are one and rain is the only one that truly sees how fragile we are.

You can see two old men holding hands, like toys that defeat time, their faces hidden behind a black umbrella.

But the rain never stops...