(So I decided to make a story. Finally. And no, this WILL NOT be happy. It's going off in a direction that would make the reader feel bad about the situation at hand. At least that's what I'm attempting to do.)

A knight stood at a cliff, looking over the partially buried ruins of a majestic building. Dusty winds blew everywhere, and not a single drop of water was to be found. Sandstorms were slowly burying the city the strangers and knights called "Haven". The man felt the tune of someone playing a piano that someone would play for him whenever he came to visit her. "I wish everything was back to normal, but that's just not the way it's going to be." he said, sighing.

His Leviathan Blade was in it's sheath, which was on the knight's back. Once again, he sighed, then slowly walked down crumbled and dusted stairs. His scarf blew in the wind as he walked through to a vastly large mountain, where the only access to the clockworks had mostly-caved in.

A small rope dangled from the edge of something the knights called a "gate". Slowly, but steadily, the cavern was wearing away, soon to be nonexistent within 300-700 years. By then, he'd be dead. He grabbed tight of the rope, closed his eyes, and slid down the rope. "I need to find my love." he thought as the rope landed him at a derelict Power Complex. Unsheathing his Leviathan Blade, he waited for the onslaught to approach.

"I won't stop until I can find one knight."