The night passed in peril; it was a gloomy day after.
Smoke erupted from destroyed foundations; houses… became a shadow of their former selves – ruined.
Bodies littered the streets, with a shallow few complete, left as unrecognizable pieces blasted to smithereens.
Medics still rushed to attend to the injured, a tragic task in itself, as only carted corpses filled the venue.
"Come help, he's stuck under the rubble."
"Don't push; you are killing him, idiot!"
"Pull."
"Fuck, dumb rough bastard! Guess he's dead now."
Such tragedies spread unrestrained, every soul more hopeless than the next.
"There's an irony in such pain," a cloaked figure whispered, their figure concealed within an alley's shadow. The eyes, like dissipating frost, shone dark.
