POV CHANGE TO SOMEONE NAMED LUCAS IN A CROWD
'Idiots,' Lucas thought, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced around the crowded emergency shelter. 'They're all just idiots.' His inner voice was filled with disdain for the panicked mass of people.
'My name's Lucas, and before all this, I was just a janitor. Honestly, I don't hate what's happening now.' He smirked, finding a strange sense of calm amidst the chaos.
The voices in the crowd were a chaotic blend of fear, denial, and hope.
"What are we going to do?" one person asked, their voice trembling.
"The military will come soon," someone else reassured.
"My taxes are wasted on those bastards," a frustrated voice grumbled.
"Mommy!" a little girl cried out, her voice piercing through the cacophony.
The desperation was palpable. Everyone clung to the faint hope of rescue, but Lucas knew better. He eyed the cracked walls and flimsy metal gate that separated them from the horrors outside.
'This emergency center won't hold much longer,' he thought, his eyes narrowing. 'We're basically sitting ducks here.'
Suddenly, the loud bang of something heavy slamming against the gate echoed through the room.
Bang! Bang!
The gate shuddered violently under the impact, bending inward with each hit.
"What's going on?!" someone in the crowd screamed.
"What do we do if they get in?!" another voice shouted in panic.
'Shit,' Lucas cursed to himself, his eyes darting toward the gate. The crowd was growing more frantic, their fear bubbling over into chaos.
But then... silence.
The relentless pounding stopped. The air was thick with tension, every breath feeling heavier as the crowd collectively held theirs.
'Why did it stop?' Lucas wondered, his heart racing. 'Why is everything so quiet all of a sudden?'
His instincts screamed at him to move, to get as far away from the gate as possible. He mumbled under his breath, "This isn't good. I need to get to the back of the crowd."
Lucas began to push his way through, inching toward safety when—
BOOM!
The gate collapsed with a deafening crash, sending a plume of dust and debris into the air. People screamed, but then... silence again. Time seemed to slow as everyone stared into the thick cloud of dust, trying to make out what had caused the gate to fall.
A voice, cold and emotionless, cut through the silence like a knife. "Alright, let's get this over with."
Out of the dust, a figure emerged. Clad in jet-black attire, untouched by the blood and dirt of the outside world, the figure's most striking feature was the mask. It glowed with an eerie, fiery light, as if it were ablaze with rage. The mask resembled a fearsome demon from eastern folklore—its sharp canines protruding from the snarling face, giving off an aura of terrifying anger.
It was Viktor.
This mask, this image of fury, was Viktor's creation, a gift from Nyx—a symbol of the vengeance burning in his heart. The people in the shelter, however, only saw a man who looked like a demon, a harbinger of death that had stepped out of the dust to claim their lives.
Though Lucas didn't know his name, the sight of the masked man sent shivers down his spine. Viktor's appearance was haunting, his mask reflecting the vengeance he carried within. The crowd, frozen in shock, had no idea that this demon-like figure was here for something far worse than the monsters they feared.