(📀This story was written inspired from the song A Faint Signal by Infinite Frequencies. Please check it out or listen to it while reading 🎶)

A message to the soul, an arm reaching out from the mist. A great gray dragon of smoke coiled overhead, its wings cradling the sky. Utter silence descended like a great curtain. Ash and dust fell like snow to an already carpeted floor. The page had been turned, and now it was blank, memories defined by sheer emptiness. An empty oasis with a strange view of mountains that had gone unnoticed before, like quiet giants slumbering on their sides. Steam rose from the rubble, skeletal buildings reaching out from piles of debris, silverware, clothing, steel rods and cables. A darkened hand, claw like, sought mercy. It pulled at the heavens, at the misery it belonged to…

Fetal, obscure, oblivious yet nearly omnipotent, cautiously grasping at consciousness. For fear of speech, for fear of sight, for fear of touch, the world began to spin away from this terrible creature. This frail design of horror and destruction, this embryo of malice and suffering and tragedy.

The thing lurched away from the ruins of its fading world.

(Based on the aftermath of Hiroshima. Interpret it as you like)