More explosions erupted in the distance, one after another, each one more louder than the other, thunderous roars that shattered windows and sent tremors through the ground.
Ace stared at the soul orb for a breath longer, its glow reflecting faintly in his eyes. Perhaps it was valuable. Perhaps even priceless.
But what use was treasure to the dead?
With a sharp breath, he turned and ran, leaving the orb behind as dust and ash swirled in the air around him.
The streets were in chaos.
Smoke rose in thick plumes from collapsing buildings. Shattered glass littered the stone roads, crunching beneath Ace's feet as he sprinted past overturned carts and burning stalls.
A child cried somewhere, shrill, broken, the kind of cry that ripped straight through the chest.
"Mama! Mama—!"
Ace turned his head and saw a toddler sitting in the middle of the street, sobbing and covered in soot. No one stopped to take care.
