Bones rattled as white figures moved on a grass plain. They had no purpose, no destination and no will. Even their existence was highly debated among the people. Nonetheless, the world had laid down its rules and the Gods have spoken. They are evil and seek to extinguish the lifeflame of mortals and therefore must be exterminated.

Explosions rang out and skeletons were burned to a crisp in moments. Of course, not even the high-tiered magic could reduce a whole army of them to ash, but a huge chunk disappeared nevertheless.

But the plain housed not only the simple and dull skeletons. Beings of higher power, and even intelligence, wandered as well. Liches, wraiths, even zombies flooded towards the magician who dared kill their kin. Obviously, they didn’t do that just because some lowly skeletons perished. Life was something they coveted and hated. Such temptation pulled at the heartstrings of their souls and produced unimaginable hatred.

Another blast of fire exploded and removed a chunk of white before the liches reached the place. They ran through the fire, pulling their tattered robes along the charred remains, and screeched in ancient words. Fireballs soon appeared above them and shot out towards the mage in red. He did not move and withstood the massive explosion rivaling that of his own.

Right behind the liches came wraiths, and further behind them a two hundred sized army of zombies fully equipped with rusty armor and weapons meant for war. Visible worry appeared on the mage’s face, but he did not run. He was not alone after all. Nine knights were with him, two of which were quite inhuman, towering the liches two to three times - giants.

The battle ensued, wraiths killing two human knights in an instant, before getting purged by magic. The giants crushed zombies one after another, not bothered by the puny war hammers and halberds. The mage and liches fought each other in an intense battle of wizardry, but even outnumbered one to ten the mage stood his ground. The immunity to fire limited the liches to some extent, but they just chose to attack en masse with their deathly miasma. In response, the mage’s personal guard moved to relieve some stress off of him. Five knights of professional skill managed to quickly level the playing field, and with the help of their enchanted gear killed a lich each. They had to quickly hide behind the mage though, since a volley of fire approached as soon as the remaining liches found a gap in their defense.

The humans believed the battle to be won, but then one of the giants fell to the ground. A massive swarm of zombies and skeletons combined managed to trip it. What followed it was a gruesome death. Thousands of skeletons quickly swooped in, seemingly out of nowhere, and the liches cackled in madness.

The end was nigh as exhaustion ensued.

***

Time moved like a river. The corpses rotted, metal rusted, undead moved on. No humans came to the battlefield, not even animals dared to tread the cursed soil. Surrounded in death was the land. A perfect spot for undead to be born.

And just like that a mound of mud rose. It expanded more and more and then a skeletal arm popped out. It struggled to move through the roots of the overgrown soil, but eventually managed to do so.

Having just been born it knew nothing but a few things. It was undead, never tired, never felt thirst or hunger, it didn’t feel – it wasn’t alive. As usual hatred came first, it was mad at the world, but soon this bothersome emotion ceased to exist. Without a care in the world it began walking, it’s red cloak dragging along the grass.

A new undead was just born within this world.