His eyes lit up, greed contorting his features.
Without hesitation, he scooped up the gold coins and pocketed them, before rushing back to the lady. He lifted her patient in a swift, singular motion, speaking curtly.
"To the hospital."
With no time to spare, they bolted out of the house—only to realise the horses and wagons were gone.
The man turned to her, clarifying.
"Just so you know, the person who did this to them took his money when he left."
She fixed him with a piercing gaze, hesitating only a moment before nodding in reluctant acquiescence.
He smiled.
"Come with me. I know a place,"
He said, and they both began to move… deeper into the slums.
...
The sound of explosions.
The tremor caused by shockwaves.
Buildings reduced to rubble.
Victims crying.
Pyrellis, the city of white, breathes its dying breath.
Lugh awoke with a sudden start.
The soft chirping of birds filtered in through the stained glass window. Morning had come.
