Three days had passed since the night of fire and death.
Three days of martial law, of Category B Guards patrolling streets littered with rubble and bodies. Three days of investigators sifting through ruins, trying to piece together what had happened. Three days of funeral pyres burning throughout the city as the dead were counted and cremated.
The Desgarron estate—once a symbol of Noble power and prestige—now stood as a blackened scar against the skyline. The manor's elegant architecture had been reduced to skeletal remains, walls collapsed, towers fallen, the beautiful gardens turned to ash.
The Coliseum fared no better.
What had been the city's premier entertainment venue was now a crater surrounded by devastated blocks. Thousands dead, tens of thousands injured, and still the death toll was rising as rescuers found bodies buried under collapsed buildings.
But finally, after three days of chaos, something resembling order had been restored.
