Enough trauma, enough tragedy, enough pain. Stephanie with a troubled look forced a smile. 'No more,' cried her thoughts – the little boy held his own, the expression devoid of humanity or life. "-What is it?" she tapped a nearby seat, signaling the boy, who, without much effort strode and dropped. Yellow pupils, '-peculiar,' came a gulp, '-what is wrong with him?'
Away from the reluctant interview – Chiad's cityscape rose as jagged edges over the horizon. Toppled buildings and chaos – the joint army, of which the vanguard was led by Old Cray, threw their weapons on their shoulders and proudly smirked.
