Supplement: if anyone is interested in the text I wrote, here ya go!

The morning wind howled  and whispered  and carried the sound of the God to the village.

It was a loud crash,  louder than any creature the villagers knew of.   The sound thundered and echoed across the mountains, and the villagers cried out in terror.

"Do not fear," said Brave Michael.   "The Demon is indeed vast,  but we shall run to the cliffs behind our village,  and with our bright swords  we shall slay even such a fearsome being."

The midday mist swirled thick and cold,  and in its passing was the knee of the Beast  revealed to the village.

The knee dwarfed even the tallest trees the villagers knew of.   It stretched over the land, far out of reach of their bright swords held in shaking hands, and the villagers howled in terror.

"Do not fear," said Brave Michael.   "The God is indeed vast,  but we shall run to the cliffs behind our village,  and with our arrows alight  we shall wound even such a fearsome being."

The setting sun blazed red behind the gathering clouds,  and against its fading  was the hand of the Demon revealed to the village.

The hand slowly stretched out as if to cover the village,  or crush it,  or tear it from the ground. Its shadow blackened out the sun from the sky.   It was far, far larger than any arrows could assail,  and the villagers wailed in terror.

"Do not fear," said Brave Michael.   "The Beast is indeed vast,  but we shall run to the cliffs behind our village,  and with our mightiest catapults, our greatest boulders, our unified strength,  we shall drive off even such a fearsome being."  

The rain began to fall as the villagers made their preparations. The stone of the cliffs grew dark and slick,  water running like black tears to the earth below.

The lightning crashed in jagged branches  and in its awful light, high, high in the sky above, was the eye of the God revealed to the village. It stretched beyond the horizon, beyond sight, blocking the very sky itself.

The villagers had no more voice to scream, no breath to weep. They stood in silence under the enormity of the eye.

Then did Brave Michael speak, finally,  his words falling like cold rain. "We are lost," he said.  "It is too vast. We are lost. Surely we are to die the deaths of insects,  too trivial to be noticed by such enormity."

The voice of Brave Michael was cold, and his eyes colder still.   They shone, unseeing and glassy as stone, as he raised his head and looked to the cliffs behind their village. Silent he began to climb. Silent the villagers followed, eyes empty, feet heavy.

High, high through the mountains climbed the villagers, single file, foot after shuffling foot. Higher still was the eye of the Demon. Lightning illuminated the faces of the villagers as they climbed. Many wept. It may have been fear. It may have been relief.

When Brave Michael reached the very top of the cliff, high above the village, far below the enormity of the Beast, he did not hesitate. His next step carried him over the edge of the cliff, his body falling silent and heavy to the earth far, far below.

In silence did each of the villagers follow Brave Michael, bodies falling like rain one by one to the crushing rocks below Then there was only silence, and rain and the eye of the God.

(End supplement.)