Random was feeling strange, like the feeling you get when things are going right, but overwhelmingly so. After finishing his song, he puts down his guitar and walks to the window. He opens the window and sniffs the air. The air is crisp and clean, but then a breeze blows in, but this is not an ordinary breeze. There is dark intentions on it, something horrible was headed towards them, something, that will threaten their very existence. Random shivers briefly as his eyes begin to darken. Then, a vision comes to him. A man stands, cloaked in black, smoking a cigarette, and laughing heartedly, and smiling. His eyes are shadowed by the hood of black smoke blocks the rest of him. Smoke from his cigarette rises in the shape of serpent, and slithering, hissing, happy, and tricky. The man then says, "They are done for." With that, Random is back to reality, clutching the windowsill, making it crackle with strain. He let's go and massages his hand, sore from the death grip, as he stares out the window.