"Another raid… It never bloody ends."

The young man, named Eron, grumbled to himself as he surveyed the chaos around him. His small village was under attack from yet another group of raiders, desperate to steal what few resources they had left. Eron, a skilled fighter, had already taken down several of the raiders, but they just kept coming.

"Bloody fools," he muttered, ducking as a spear flew past his head. "What do we even have left that's worth taking?"

Eron knew the answer to that question all too well. The precious few crops and livestock they had managed to grow and raise were dwindled to almost nothing. The land was infertile and the air was toxic. Eron and his fellow villagers had been struggling to survive on the dying planet for years, fighting against raiders and the harsh environment just to stay alive. The old ones spoke of a Star Maiden, but he knows that either such a thing doesn't exist, or it is ignoring their suffering.