The Aztec port, once a bustling nexus of activity, now lay in shambles as the embers of chaos smoldered in the night air. The acrid scent of burnt wood and singed fabric mingled with the cries of distant crackling flames, painting a grim backdrop to the aftermath of a fierce battle. The flickering remnants of firelight cast eerie shadows that danced across the desolation, creating a haunting tableau of destruction.
Amid the wreckage, Cherry found herself on the ground, the cold and unforgiving cobblestones biting into her skin. Huddled against the remnants of a once-sturdy crate, she clutched her legs tightly to her chest. The night air carried with it a palpable tension, a residue of fear that lingered like a spectral presence.
Cherry's eyes, wide with terror, scanned the chaos that unfolded around her. The guards, their faces hardened by the trials of war, and a vexation for vatu moved with a cold efficiency.
