The code is cracked to get in to the houses, what continues to be of the devastated community is finally worn lower and reduced to piles of rubble. The scared families flee into the ancient shelters, built by simply their ancestors after previous time nature vented the girl fury. The rotting wood made door is torn aside by the malicious wind, slowly giving in to be able to the onslaught from above. Inside the refuge the prisoners sit anxiously awaiting the storm to complete, every crack of magic echoes around the area, reminding them of the danger lurking outside. Typically the storm knocks from the entrance of the shelter, waiting around patiently for the right opportunity to break in. Unsuccessful it moves on to a higher target, undeterred by the resolute survivors of the tragedy.
With the same flash of lightening that signalled the start of the storm it disappears, leaving behind a scene from a new war zone. Houses destroyed, trees uprooted, burnt-out cars and several bemused remainders helping the injured in addition to trying to work out what simply happened. An unusual silence weighs over the town, occasionally interrupted by the yelling sirens of the crisis services. No dogs can certainly be heard barking in the evening air, typically the sky is empty regarding all birds whose tunes utilized to serenade the inhabitants of the town, no kids playing in the high seasons day, just the occasional call for help coming from the mountains of rubble. The calm after the surprise, reflecting the tension inside the air before the storm. Rescuers still skeptical of the planet earth, now darkening with night fall, not really knowing what tomorrow may bring. Strange, it is usually a huge nothing that we fear.