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墨書 Inktalez
The night was like a curtain, darkness enveloping the city, with only distant flames flickering in the heavy shadows, like a beast poised to devour everything.
The van sped down the asphalt road, tires screeching sharply against the surface. The air inside was unusually hot, charged with adrenaline and the restless pulse of blood. No one spoke, yet everyone could feel the tremor hidden beneath the silence—a kind of ecstasy on the brink of destruction.
Then—
“Boom—!!!”
The explosion shattered the night sky, deafening, like the trumpet of doom sounding in the heart of the city.
Shockwaves swept through like an earthquake, the ground shaking violently. The van jolted suddenly as the driver gripped the steering wheel tightly; the wheels skidded briefly, nearly losing control. In the distance, a massive fireball erupted in the Financial District, orange-red flames curling into the night sky like an angry giant's hand, tearing apart the darkness of the city. Smoke billowed up thickly, as if demons were rising from the depths of hell, painting the sky with a crimson glow.
“Damn! Damn it!!” Jack's body nearly leaped from his seat as he pounded his fists against the door, his eyes gleaming with wild excitement. “This is what the hell Revolution looks like! This is what fire feels like!”
Everyone in the van erupted into cheers, their voices deafening, excitement and ecstasy intertwining into a bloody battle hymn.
Some pounded on their seats fiercely, others threw their heads back in manic laughter, while some raised their guns to bang against the roof, creating a metallic roar. This group resembled demons just clawed out of hell, reveling in their destruction and thrilled by the flames they were about to ignite.
“The destruction of this city has only just begun!” someone shouted, voice fervent, fingers trembling tightly around their gun's grip until knuckles turned white.
Meanwhile, at that very moment on the other side of the city, chaos and despair were unfolding irreversibly.
—Sirens pierced through the night sky, wailing mournfully like cries of anguish. The blaring horns of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances rushed toward the Financial District at full speed; yet even with all their haste, it was already too late.
The flames had consumed this land.
Firefighters jumped from their vehicles and unfurled hoses in an attempt to suppress the burning buildings. But as water surged toward that inferno, droplets evaporated almost instantly upon contact with the scorching surfaces, turning into useless steam. Thick smoke billowed like tendrils of darkness wrapping around buildings and transforming them into a hellish purgatory.
“Damn it! The fire is too intense! Hurry! We need more backup!” The Fire Chief shouted into his radio, sweat on his forehead from either flames or despair.
Paramedics frantically navigated through smoke and flames, dragging charred bodies and rescuing survivors who cried out in agony from burns. Stretchers were pushed into ambulances one after another; yet more people remained trapped in the inferno, unable to make a sound or too late to cry for help.
—Glass windows shattered under pressure from heat waves, shards scattering like blades. The steel beams of high-rises began to warp under extreme temperatures, emitting a mournful “crack—crack—” sound as if a dying beast was struggling and waiting for its final collapse.
The news reporters had already arrived at the scene, their cameras mercilessly capturing everything. The lens swept over the burning skyscrapers, the frantic people scrambling for survival, the helpless figures of firefighters, the charred bodies lying on the ground, and the countless eyes filled with fear.
The city was burning, collapsing, sinking into a disaster forged by raging flames.
Mayor Rain's car screeched to a halt amidst the chaos. He stepped out with a blank expression, ignoring the reporters' questions as he walked straight toward the inferno. His aides followed closely behind, continuously whispering updates on casualties, the spread of the fire, and the grim reality that this city was beyond saving.
But Rain did not respond; he said nothing. He simply stood there silently, his gaze fixed on the hellish ruins before him.
His city, his kingdom, the high walls he had once built were now reduced to charred fragments scattered by the wind.
The glow of the flames illuminated his face, making him appear like a statue—his eyes devoid of surprise, anger, or even sadness.
Because he knew that this day would eventually come.
This city was utterly finished.
Rain stood before the burning city, surrounded by a cacophony of chaos, while his mind felt as if it had suddenly crashed, briefly losing its ability to think.
Reporters surged forward; the red lights of their cameras flickered incessantly. Microphones and recording devices jabbed at his face like sharp blades, and an overwhelming flood of questions poured in, suffocating him.
“Mayor! This terrorist attack has resulted in hundreds of casualties. What do you have to say to the citizens?”
“The government promised to strengthen security before, but now even the Financial District has been bombed. Is this your legacy?”
“Terrorists roam freely in the city. Where are the police? Where are the national security forces? Where is the government's response?”
“Mayor, what about the money in the banks? With such a massive explosion, has the financial system collapsed? Are our savings still safe? Will our economy fall apart?!”
“You’ve been saying you would solve these problems, but now the city has turned into ruins! Is this your governance capability?”
Hundreds and thousands of questions exploded in Rain's ears like swarms of buzzing flies, leaving him feeling agitated, exhausted, and even fearful.
He opened his mouth, only to find himself at a loss for words. He had never imagined that things would deteriorate to this extent, spiraling so far out of control that he couldn't even form a complete sentence.
After a brief moment of shock, he forced a stiff smile, trying to appear calm. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said, "We... we will do our best to address the root cause of all this. I assure the citizens that the government will not stand idly by; everyone involved in this attack will be brought to justice..."
But before he could finish, the reporters surged forward more aggressively, their microphones nearly poking his face. The questions became sharper, even aggressive—
"'Brought to justice'? But the entire city is on the brink of collapse. Mayor, are you sure the government still has the capacity to enforce the law?"
"Where is your 'effort'? The terror attacks have never ceased—shootings, bombings, assassinations, gang conflicts—have you resolved any of these issues?!"
"If even the Financial District is gone, how can banks operate? What about everyone's savings? Will the economy collapse? Are we facing an all-out financial storm?!"
"And what about Carter Black! The City's Angel of Death!" a reporter shouted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Poll data shows his approval ratings are rising. Mayor, your governance seems to be worse than that of a vigilante. What do you have to say about that?!"
Rain's expression froze; he nearly lost his smile. His fists clenched involuntarily as his head buzzed with noise.
These damn reporters… these cursed questions…
He wanted to stabilize the situation, to say something that would calm everyone down, but deep down he knew—this interview had spiraled completely out of control, just like the city's collapse.
The acrid smoke surrounded him, and screams and cries echoed from the other side of the ruins. The wail of fire truck sirens continued to reverberate, while the red light of the camera remained fixed on his face, capturing his helplessness, confusion, and even… fear.
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