Amon stood on rubble that stretched as far as he could see, which was really saying something as his eyes could see incredibly long distances.
From his vantage point, the entire way down revealed itself—a makeshift tunnel most likely created naturally after the metro's destruction.
It was dimly lit, but to him, it appeared bright as day.
Behind him were no less than thirty soldiers, all decapitated.
Their heads were sliced with such precision that it seemed to be the work of a machine.
And those whose heads were facing upwards had faces that could be seen frozen in shock, evident even by their bodies, their weapons still clutched in stiffened fingers.
Plop...Plop...
Blood dripped from his hand and, growing annoyed by the sound, he flicked it aside, the crimson droplets splattering against the cold metal floor.
