The once clean, prosperous city now lies in ruins, its former brilliance reduced to ash and embers. Sidewalks are cracked, fractured, its insides glowing a searing red from the bubbling molten veins that pulse beneath them, like the city itself is bleeding. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea using such an unstable element to use as a heating system for the whole capital. Though, to be fair, the innovation was safe to use under stable conditions, its inventors were smart enough to think at least that far. Sadly, the pce is anything but.

  What remains are buildings colpsing on themselves, few are lucky to keep its integrity, clinging onto their skeletal frames. While the rest melted away, like failed pottery abandoned at the kiln—squished, discarded, and piled haphazardly atop one another. Some would even think these were made by cy. Fortunately, the city isn’t that cheap. Unfortunately, those high grade materials have been liquefied.

  Like our Anasera said, the only word fitting for this, is chaos.

  It is, ultimately, unthinkable that this catastrophe —the colpse of an empire— is caused by a sole family. No grand conspiracy, no meticulously pnned terrorist attacks. Just one family. At least, that’s what they say.

  “Kill them all!”

  The rioters surround three people huddled close together. Yet none was willing to step forward, to seize the chance, to gamble their lives. Almost as if there’s an invisible barrier, a forcefield, protecting the family. In truth, there is none. It is all delusions.

  “They’re cornered! This is our chance!”

  They bark, and once again, they falter. Cowards, all of them.

  The family is shaking, they are all frightened, more so than the rioters who threaten them. The three are tired from fleeing, day and night all they’ve done is slip through melting buildings, hiding in every crevice they can, small or big. As long as their daughter is safe. They’re clever to st this long.

  As, exhaustion always wins in the long run, and they slipped. A mistake that would put an end to their cat and mouse game. Or so, that’s what they thought. Instead, a stalemate is locked between the battered family and the furious rioters. Maybe there’s a chance to escape? If the family can choose the right words, they would be safe. Or at the very least, their daughter would be. A blind naivety, but it’s the st hope the family can cling onto. Desperation makes fools of even the strongest.

  The father trembly release his grip from the family, and steps forward. That single step acts like a wave, throwing the rioters to flinch and take a step back. Armed by nothing but his words, he positioned himself in front of the family, acting like a shield. His lips parts, a single sylble forming—

  “Shoot!”

  —The word rang out like a command from the heavens, and a bullet followed. Silence swallows the atmosphere, almost oppressive. The world held its breath, for an innocent soul has drew its st. His head pulverized, and his body folds in on itself, like a lifeless puppet with its strings severed. Leaving the rest, his wife and daughter, stained with his blood and flecks of shattered bones. The warm, sticky, vivid red streaks clings in their hair, on their faces, seeping through their clothes.

  They couldn’t react, not enough time to process it, not when the brazen mob notices that there is no such thing as a forcefield warding them off. One man steps forward, his eyes shut tight, bracing for something that wouldn’t come. Only then, does the crowd realize they may have miscalcuted.

  But all of it doesn’t matter, they’ve gone so far pinning it on this family, too deep in their convictions to entertain doubt. To turn back would mean confronting their own mistakes. Besides, give them another minute or two and the wife will start shouting at them, further wounding their errors in thinking. It’d be bothersome to hear.

  So they went in for the kill.

  Once close enough, they began the torture. A sharp kick tears the mother free of her daughter and the girl can only watch with dread piling inside her, as the mother tries to crawl back toward her. The mother reaches out her hand, her only thought to comfort her daughter. She’s oh so close to touching her cheek, but before she can, a hand wrenches her arm back, twisting it with a sickening snap. The joint gives way, bone torn free from its socket.

  Her screams die out amongst the mob, people piling up to inflict further pain, to project the unseen anger they’ve been holding. Strangely, the daughter was kept alive, of course, the use of that word is generous, mocking the truth. But no one in the crowd targeted her the same way they do with her mother, they all pass by to her mother instead.

  Perhaps they simply don’t notice the small, fragile figure curled up on the scorching concrete, cradling her head, eyes closed as she hoped all of this is no more than a bad dream. But with someone so fshy, a girl with cerulean hair that glints against the backdrop, the opposite of the ashen sky and the blood stained ground that rings around them, it’s hard not to notice.

  There is another possibility, although it is an atrocious attempt of a joke, ughably so. They let the girl live, thinking that this is enough to atone for their sins. For murdering two innocent souls, they let one soul free to make it ‘even.’ It sounds ludicrous, but these self righteous, shortsighted people thinks this is sufficient. It’s always the same: they decide what is ‘enough,’ what can absolve them of their sins.

  But nothing can. Nothing ever will.

  Just what does her family did to deserve this? Is the only question that pgues her anguished mind. They were your stereotypical honest and hardworking family, Her father worked a nine-to-five job, her mother kept their home warm and welcoming, and she studied diligently to earn the best grades. Both parents does posses the ability to utter a handful of words in an unknown tongue, their natural hair colors more vivid than most. But that’s about it, does the world hate people that stood out more than the rest? Who didn’t blend neatly into the gray masses? Did being unique justify being hunted for weeks, driven to the edge of despair, only to watch her parents murdered in cold blood? Truly, a bizzare world we live in.

  Eventually, the girl came to a conclusion with her fractured mind, that for the people that did this, it’s easier for them to bme these issues on demons or witchcrafts than a failure of the system.

  Zenovia