"Papa, look, smoke," Mia exclaimed, pointing urgently to the billowing clouds in the atmosphere.
The middle-aged man raised his head, a look of concern crossing his face. Turning towards the direction Mia indicated, he observed a thick gush of smoke hanging in the air. "This does not look good. Come here, Mia, let's hurry."
Mia obediently followed her father as they approached a small village. The air grew tense with each step, and as they neared, they cautiously crouched behind a tree, peering through the foliage to assess the unfolding situation. Their eyes widened in shock at the grim scene before them – soldiers were mercilessly burning down the village settlement, village chiefs were being dragged away, and lifeless bodies scattered the ground.
"Papa, we have to do something," Mia whispered urgently.
"Hush, there is nothing we can do," her father replied, his eyes reflecting a mixture of helplessness and fear.
