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The portent winds blew with fury over the brackish waters, an ignis fatuus hovering over the horizon, a symbol of something to come. The gales thundered through the swamps, an electricity in the air. An ominous howl began to sound as shapes took form in the hollow. Darkness bled onto the surface of the scape, as the winds continued to ravage the land. Suddenly, a mysterious chant began and hooded figures appeared, lurking in the shadows, manifestations of some nightmare that could not be escaped from. The chant began to build. The trees were ripped from their roots and sent flying. The waters whipped up into towering waves. The catastrophe increased and increased, and the intensity built and built until it all became too much for the world to bear! With a flash, everything dissapeared, leaving but a smoky crater in the center of what was once a luscious place full of life. A figure emerged. A figure named Stephen Takowsky. MGT was born.
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