[SE] What ghost around, comes around

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Stormbreak’s survival, in pieces and ruin, seemed to be apt; a remembrance for a world long since crafted to behold the gods, honored once more even as it had fallen. For the rest, he imagined they’d be beneath the swells and tides of the sea, lost to any save for those curious and venturous enough to go plunge and plunder. It is strange, how quickly some things become consumed. Gone in a flash, devoured as if they were nothing. But you still hold memories of it – so it will never be gone entirely. Not until those people had vanished and forgotten too. Maybe she’d kept maps or tomes or something else from it; ransacked and saved before it went crashing. Lowering to bank above a cluster of rock and rubble, he persisted, scouting and patrolling, eyes upon the ground, looking for any changes or alterations to his world. You could always write about it too, I suppose. That way others will not forget either. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left