Kastiel had been in his office when the message came through. An alert, urgent and blinking on the secure screen built into his desk.
Incident: Central Park Gardens. Fire. Multiple civilian reports.
The central garden park was more than a park. It was the heart of the territory for so many. Children played there every day after school. Adults walked the trails to clear their heads. It was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be a place of peace.
He didn't know what he was expecting when his car pulled up to the scene, but it was definitely not a fire this big.
From the street, he could see the smoke. It was a thick, ugly column of grey and black, rising high into the cold afternoon sky. It didn't look real. It looked like a picture of a disaster. The smell hit him even before he opened the car door, the sharp, acidic stink of burning wood and plastic, cutting through the crisp autumn air.
