The thunder cracked again.
This time, it wasn't distant or muffled by steel walls. It was inside the chamber. A blinding flash tore through the underground, followed by a roar so violent it made bones shake. The sound wasn't just noise it was force. Dozens of men and women dropped instantly, their bodies limp, eyes still wide in shock. They hadn't even screamed. The thunder had killed them where they stood.
The survivors broke into chaos. Cries of terror filled the chamber. Parents clutched their children, others shoved past neighbors, tripping, clawing, desperate to run. The air smelled of burning hair, charred flesh, and ozone.
Solas tightened his grip around the small child in his arms. Her wails pierced through the noise, raw with terror. He sprinted with the crowd, heart hammering, his breaths ragged. The chamber shook again, and pipes burst from the ceiling, raining sparks and water across the floor.
Then Solas stopped.
Through the panic, he saw the Warden. The old man stood rooted in the center of the chamber. He wasn't running. He wasn't shouting orders. His body trembled violently, his hands clutching at the air as though frozen in place. Fear had nailed him to the floor.
Solas hesitated, his feet skidding against the steel. He turned back toward him, ready to grab the Warden, to drag him if he had to
The roof of the underground tore open.
A thunderous crack split the steel above them. Dust and debris rained down as daylight slashed through the darkness for the first time in decades. The people gasped, shielding their eyes from the sudden brightness.
But the light vanished.
A massive shadow blocked the sun.
It wasn't just big it was suffocating. Its presence filled the chamber, crushing the air from every chest.
Solas froze, his mouth dry, his heartbeat thundering louder than the screams around him. His eyes flicked upward
The Warden's scream cut through the air.
Blood burst from his eyes, running down his wrinkled cheeks in thick streams. His trembling turned into violent spasms, his mouth opening wide in a silent howl before
He exploded.
Flesh and blood sprayed across the floor, painting the steel red.
Solas stumbled back, horror twisting in his chest. He understood in that instant. The Warden had stared at it. He had looked into the god's eyes.
"Everyone!" Solas roared, his voice breaking but louder than he ever thought he could shout. "Cover your eyes! Don't look at it!"
The crowd obeyed out of pure terror. Some clamped their hands over their faces, others buried their heads against the ground, running blind, desperate not to see. Children screamed as parents shielded their faces with shaking hands.
Another thunderclap struck. A bolt of lightning crashed down, ripping into the floor and splitting the chamber apart. Sparks and fire burst upward as bodies were hurled against the walls. The cries grew louder agony, despair, begging for help that would never come.
Solas ran again, clutching the child close to his chest. The air burned with heat, each breath searing his throat. The girl's small hands dug into his coat, her cries muffled by his chest, but he refused to let go. His legs carried him forward, though every step felt heavier.
Around him, Sector 5 was falling apart. Steel supports bent and groaned. Lights shattered from the ceiling. People screamed names into the smoke, reaching for loved ones swallowed by the crowd. The walls cracked as if the earth itself wanted to bury them alive.
"No one's praying…" Solas thought, the words burning in his head as he ran. Not one cry for a savior, not one whisper for mercy. The gods were not worshiped here. They were feared, hated, despised. Humanity had no gods left to beg. Only tyrants who played with lives.
The sector shook again. Another bolt struck. Solas ducked low, his body pressing against the trembling child as the impact ripped through the chamber. The steel walls burst apart in flames, the floor splitting wide to swallow screaming figures. The roar of thunder drowned everything else.
"Run!" someone cried. "Run!"
But the cry was swallowed by another blast of lightning.
The chamber was no longer a refuge. It was a grave.
Solas pushed forward, every muscle screaming, his chest tight with panic and rage. He could hear the sobs of children, the choking gasps of the dying, the desperate wails of those crushed beneath rubble. Every sound etched itself into his mind, searing deeper than the lightning's fire.
Then it came again.
A surge of power, raw and merciless, tore through the sector. Lightning burst in every direction, a white-hot wave of destruction that shattered machines, split walls, and sent a shockwave ripping through the underground.
Solas threw himself flat, curling around the child as the storm engulfed everything. The blast shook his bones, ringing in his ears until there was only pain and silence.
When he lifted his head, Sector 5 was gone.
The chamber had collapsed. Machines were nothing but smoldering wreckage. Flames licked at broken steel. The cries had thinned, some cut short, others fading into weak sobs.
The world smelled of smoke and blood.
Solas clutched the child, his arms trembling, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. His body shook not just from fear, but from the helplessness that burned inside him. He could not save them. He could only run.
And above, through the shattered roof, the shadow still lingered.
The god was watching.
The thunder rained down like a storm without end. Bolts of lightning tore through steel, flesh, and stone, shredding the underground chamber piece by piece. Solas crouched low, his body wrapped protectively around the small child in his arms. The air was fire and dust, his ears rang with the roar of endless thunder. Each strike shook the ground, hammering against his chest until he thought his heart might burst.
He clung to her tighter, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Just hold on," he whispered, though his voice was lost beneath the storm. "Just hold on."
Then, as suddenly as it began, the thunder stopped.
The silence that followed was worse. It pressed down on his skull, heavy and suffocating. Slowly, Solas lifted his head. His eyes widened.
Bodies.
Everywhere.
The chamber floor was littered with the broken forms of people he had called family. Faces he had laughed with that morning now stared back at him, glassy-eyed, their mouths frozen in screams. He saw Maro, the loud-mouthed Verdant who had drowned seedlings in too much water, lying twisted near the shattered trays. He saw Leira, the woman who teased him for being too serious, her body slumped over a cage of animals, blood dripping down her hair. Their laughter, fresh in his memory, clashed with the horror before him.
Tears blurred his vision. His throat tightened as sobs clawed their way out of him, shaking his chest. "No…" His voice cracked. "Not all of you… not like this."
The silence was broken by groans. Not everyone was gone. Some clutched at bleeding wounds, writhing weakly among the ruins. Others coughed, gasping through collapsed lungs, their breaths shallow and wet. Their cries for help echoed faintly too weak, too many, too far gone.
Solas staggered to his feet, still holding the child close. His own head throbbed, warm blood running from his ears, staining his neck. His vision swam, but he forced his legs to move. He had to get out. He had to get her out.
The underground shook again. Cracks split across the steel walls, and the ground heaved beneath him. Solas stumbled, his knees buckling. He fell hard, the impact jolting the child from his arms.
"No!" His hands clawed at the air as she slipped from his grasp.
He scrambled up instantly, his heart hammering in panic. The girl lay only a few feet away, crying as dust rained down around her. He reached forward, his hand trembling as he stretched to pull her back. Their fingers brushed. His hand closed around hers
But her gaze shifted upward.
Her eyes, wide and innocent, lifted to the hole above where daylight still leaked in through broken steel. To the shadow that loomed, heavy and suffocating, blotting out the sun.
Solas's heart dropped into ice. His scream tore from his chest, raw and desperate.
"NO! Don't look!"
The child's tiny body stiffened. For a single heartbeat, her hand squeezed his. Then her eyes went wide.
And she exploded.
Blood burst across the chamber in a spray of red. The sound of it splattering against the broken metal echoed louder than thunder. Fragments of bone and flesh struck Solas's chest and face, hot and wet. He froze, his eyes wide, his mind refusing to accept what had just happened.
The hand he had been holding was gone. The child was gone.
All that remained was blood.
The world slowed. The screams around him faded into silence, his ears ringing with the phantom echo of her last cry. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, staring blankly at his blood-covered hands. The crimson dripped from his fingers, warm, sticky, real.
"No…" His voice cracked, breaking into a whisper. "No… please…"
His chest heaved, each breath shallow and ragged. His tears mixed with the child's blood, streaking down his face. Memories of her small arms clutching his neck, of her terrified sobs muffled against his coat, burned into his skull. He had carried her through chaos, sworn to protect her and now she was nothing but red across his skin.
The chamber groaned again. More debris fell, crushing the wounded who still clung to life. Their weak cries were drowned beneath the sound of collapsing steel. The sector was gone. All of it gone.
Solas forced himself up on trembling legs, his body moving without thought. He staggered forward through the ruin, his blood-soaked hands still reaching for something that was no longer there. His chest felt hollow, his soul ripped open.
Around him, others ran, fleeing blindly into the tunnels. Some screamed in panic, others wept openly, their voices ragged and raw. The ones who could not run were left behind, their outstretched hands ignored as the living trampled past. Sector 5 was not a sanctuary anymore. It was a tomb.
Solas stumbled with them, but each step felt meaningless. The faces he had known, the child he had held all gone. The laughter from earlier that day echoed in his mind, cruel and haunting.
He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, but it only smeared more blood across his face. His breath hitched, breaking into sobs. His heart felt as though it had been carved out of his chest and crushed beneath the god's shadow.
The world had always been cruel. But now, it felt empty.
And above, through the shattered ceiling, the shadow loomed still watching.