Smoke evaporated from burning buildings. Grotesque corpses piled up on the once white marbled streets now dyed in crimson red. Destruction rode on every crack, raged upon every innocent flesh, tore down the walls of the destroyed constructions where splattered brains and intestines hung from every ceiling.
The proud palace stood strong like an iron tower, its forte with not a single harm while in front of the large plaza, a sea of soldiers stood using severed heads as their red carpets. They protected the palace as if it was their lifeline, as if nothing in the whole universe was more important, had more significant than it, not the lives of many people, not the hearts that have been pierced in agony and not the insignificance peace and happiness stood for.
