I found myself walking through a field. A large field covered in blackened ash and fallen weapons.
Blood covered the grass that had once been green and lush, filled with flowers. Children had once run through this field, playing with each other, flying kites in the winds, reaching out to touch the clouds. Their little laughs filled the air, carrying through to their parents' ears. Their were picnic blankets set out in scattered patterns on the grass.
It was beautiful place. Once. Dogs used to run wildly, chasing after their owners, who threw twigs and balls. When it was sunny, people went cloud gazing, tanning under the sun. When it rained, there was always a rainbow that followed and the rain always left a sweet smell on the grass.
Not anymore.
Now, the field was black, shattered weapons lay scattered, broken bits of armor, some attached to body arms that had been dismembered.
Following the limbs, came the bodies. Bodies of people who had once been a part of a beautiful culture. The grass -now black- stained with blood. Ash seemed to rain down from the sky and blew in the harsh winds. It smelled horribly of sweat and blood, like the smells after war.
Because there was one.
Some may consider it World War III, though it happened in a way that no one thought real anymore. People fought with swords and axes, bows and arrows, spears and knives. it was fought with no guns, no tanks, no bombs dropped from the sky.
Which made things ten times worse.
Now I, the god of Death, walked across the field of bodies, gazing down at them.
I had done this before. many a time before, when humanity fought against itself. Through the different wars, through the battles and through the fighting, I had been there. And only I had ever authorized the wars. Wars only ever occurred when I gave permission, if not, they would not happen, no matter how much the leaders wanted them to happen. If not for the authorization, wars would be fought everyday.
Humanity's ability to fight itself never ceases to amaze me. The way they're always fighting against each other, making alliances only to break them down the very next day. Their ability to sacrifice everything to prove a point.
I stopped walking, standing in the middle of the field. I knelt down, and picked up a helmet that was laying at my feet.
My only question about this war was, Who Authorized This?
