Deborah's POV
I was racing deeper into Murias, pushing against the flow of panicked residents as I sprinted toward Tirnanog.
The surrounding chaos was suffocating—people were screaming, desperately trying to escape the crumbling buildings and the searing magma that threatened to engulf everything in its path.
Everywhere I turned, there was the sound of pounding footsteps and terrified cries.
The violent tremors reverberated through the underground city, making it feel like the entire foundation of Murias was about to collapse.
On my way to Tirnanog, I spotted a few FDB soldiers.
They were attempting to maintain order, but the sheer pandemonium made it nearly impossible.
On Tirnanog's first floor, there used to be a tranquil potato garden, but now it had transformed into a scene straight out of a nightmare.
The earth had split open, and fiery red magma was surging up from the cracks, spilling out like the tongue of a ravenous demon.
The once-fertile land was now a blazing inferno.
Some of Tirnanog's buildings had already collapsed under the pressure of the earthquakes.
Bricks and steel beams lay scattered amidst the thick smoke and blazing flames.
Despite the chaos, my eyes immediately found Matthew.
He was there, working with several FDB soldiers, desperately rescuing the children trapped inside the precarious buildings.
The wails of infants and the sobs of older children filled the air, merging into a heart-wrenching cacophony.
Tirnanog had always been filled with women forced into constant reproduction—year after year, they had no respite, no breaks, just endless cycles of bearing children.
I rushed forward to join the rescue efforts.
Inside the nursery, there were rows of babies, their tiny cries blending with the chaos outside.
They lay in crude cribs, their frail bodies shaking with each violent tremor.
The women were clustered in the far corner of the room.
They wore the same white uniforms as all Tirnanog residents, but their skirts were stained with blood and postpartum fluids, a grim testament to their suffering.
Swallowing back my tears, I quickly picked up a baby who was screaming so hard he could barely breathe.
I wrapped him tightly in a small blanket and gently patted his bony back, trying to soothe his terror.
"Move it!" Matthew shouted urgently, his voice strained.
He was already cradling two children in his arms while holding the hand of a little girl beside him, urging her forward.
"Got it—let's go!" I called back, cradling the infant protectively and falling in step behind him.
Suddenly, there was a deafening crack.
I whipped around just in time to see the ground split open again.
A massive geyser of magma exploded out, spreading like a furious flood, covering nearly the entire first floor in an instant.
The magma surged forward, a wave of death and destruction that swallowed everything in its path.
The heat washed over us, and I could feel it burning my skin even from a distance.
"Run!" Matthew shouted, shielding the children in his arms from the searing heat.
I gritted my teeth, clutching the baby tightly as I forced my legs to keep moving.
The magma was chasing us, its fiery tendrils reaching out hungrily.
The scorching air felt like it was going to incinerate me.
"Faster—just a little faster!" I kept repeating to myself, each step feeling heavier than the last.
But I couldn't afford to stop.
Finally, we burst out of the building, leaving the collapsing walls and crumbling floors behind us.
But not everyone made it out—many of the women, those too weak from endless childbirth to escape, were left inside.
Their white skirts mingled with the red-hot magma, the bright red stains of blood blending into the glowing, molten rock.
I could only watch as they were consumed, the sight tearing at my heart.
"Get the kids out—keep moving!" Matthew barked, his voice thick with suppressed pain and rage, but he didn't stop.
Everyone—whether they were FDB soldiers or the surviving women—grabbed as many children as they could carry and began the desperate dash toward Murias' exit.
The ground continued to split open as we ran.
Magma oozed from the cracks, like a network of fiery serpents slithering beneath the earth, ready to strike.
Murias was crumbling, and none of us knew if the next second would be our last.
We finally made it to the exit—I saw Cora.
She was still at her post, distributing Amulets to the fleeing residents.
Her face was streaked with tears, but her gaze was steady.
"Cora!" I shouted, holding the baby close as I rushed forward.
She looked up, relief washing over her face as she quickly reached for the remaining Amulets, carefully placing them around the necks of the exhausted Tirnanog survivors.
"You made it… You all made it out… But…" Her voice trailed off, tinged with both relief and sorrow.
But as more and more of Tirnanog's residents flooded to the exit, Cora's hands suddenly froze.
She looked down, eyes wide in horror.
The Amulets… There were hardly any left.
"No…" Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with dread. "There aren't enough… The Amulets… they're gone."
Matthew and I exchanged a look, a cold wave of fear crashing over both of us.
Gone? How could that be?
We had planned so carefully.
There should have been more than enough…
"What do we do?" Cora whispered, her eyes filling with tears once more. "We still have so many children… so many women… What are we going to do?"
I held the baby tighter, the weight of his tiny body grounding me even as despair threatened to swallow us whole.
But I knew we couldn't afford to give in.
"We'll figure it out," I said firmly, looking her straight in the eyes. "We'll find a way."
Even with the endless flames and encroaching magma behind us, I knew that as long as we were still standing, we couldn't give up—
For these children.
For the lives already lost in the fire.
We had to—
Hold on.