What came from space…?
From an orbiting satellite vantage, we witness an inflamed meteor entering the Earth’s atmosphere, without regard for its precious thin outer shell of oxygen and other mute gases.
From heavens view we behold the smoldering space debris parting cumulus like a fastball thrown into patches of fog, vertically outclassing the known laws of gravity.
Ka-Thoom! The last sound a small mountain will ever hear, having stood proudly for over a billion years, as the shock wave strikes out to us.
The rock and dust still falls and settles, nearer to the cosmic catastrophe we come.
Indigenous molten stone throbs with red and amber hues in the dissipation of heat and energy.
A translucent sky blue boulder sized egg is exposed behind fading ribbons of smoke.
The shape of a man, as if waiting to be born, is silhouetted from within by the luster of a desert moon.
The shell fades, then a creature in uncommon armor steps forward with a strong gate but collapses to one knee on the second lunge. His hands slap flat to the desert sand in the epiphany that his legs will not hold his body erect.
One of his human shaped arms bends at the elbow, his other arm collapses, then finally all of him. Lying upon the desert ground, seemingly relieved, the alien knight stirs no more.
Finally, threads of sunlight threaten to unbalance the night and the moon begins cowering behind white capped peaks. The armored orphan stirs and unbends from his regenerative slumber. Slow to rise he is oblivious to the three meteors piercing the morning sky miles above his head. Like a scarecrow, he stands as if waiting to fall but remains vertical, swaying subtly even in the absence of any breeze.
His neck stubbornly bends to a strange heaven so that his cross shaped eye can take in the unfamiliar, sun kissed sky. His helmet pivots to the left, then again to the right and finally to the mountains ahead.
No degree in alien sociology is required to know our newly adopted son, just fallen from the black and endless cosmos, is lost.
Then, his helm tilts just so, as a deer listening for sounds of ambush from a predator. Over his shoulder three clouds of dust follow three knightly runners. Approaching with such unrelenting speed, the earth seems to spin beneath their armored feet.
With one, all seeing eye, fixed upon their prey…*
(Web Comic Sequentials of Outcast Zero)
From heavens view we behold the smoldering space debris parting cumulus like a fastball thrown into patches of fog, vertically outclassing the known laws of gravity.
Ka-Thoom! The last sound a small mountain will ever hear, having stood proudly for over a billion years, as the shock wave strikes out to us.
The rock and dust still falls and settles, nearer to the cosmic catastrophe we come.
Indigenous molten stone throbs with red and amber hues in the dissipation of heat and energy.
A translucent sky blue boulder sized egg is exposed behind fading ribbons of smoke.
The shape of a man, as if waiting to be born, is silhouetted from within by the luster of a desert moon.
The shell fades, then a creature in uncommon armor steps forward with a strong gate but collapses to one knee on the second lunge. His hands slap flat to the desert sand in the epiphany that his legs will not hold his body erect.
One of his human shaped arms bends at the elbow, his other arm collapses, then finally all of him. Lying upon the desert ground, seemingly relieved, the alien knight stirs no more.
Finally, threads of sunlight threaten to unbalance the night and the moon begins cowering behind white capped peaks. The armored orphan stirs and unbends from his regenerative slumber. Slow to rise he is oblivious to the three meteors piercing the morning sky miles above his head. Like a scarecrow, he stands as if waiting to fall but remains vertical, swaying subtly even in the absence of any breeze.
His neck stubbornly bends to a strange heaven so that his cross shaped eye can take in the unfamiliar, sun kissed sky. His helmet pivots to the left, then again to the right and finally to the mountains ahead.
No degree in alien sociology is required to know our newly adopted son, just fallen from the black and endless cosmos, is lost.
Then, his helm tilts just so, as a deer listening for sounds of ambush from a predator. Over his shoulder three clouds of dust follow three knightly runners. Approaching with such unrelenting speed, the earth seems to spin beneath their armored feet.
With one, all seeing eye, fixed upon their prey…*
(Web Comic Sequentials of Outcast Zero)
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