The city was cloaked in silence.
Iris wandered through the empty streets of Tokyo, her small frame trembling.
No food. No money. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each step heavier than the last.
Hunger gnawed at her insides like a beast, her vision swimming with static. The neon lights above flickered coldly, indifferent.
Then, through her haze, she saw it-bright yellow tape strung across the street, bold black letters screaming: DO NOT CROSS
But to a starving child, warnings held no weight.
With trembling hands, she climbed over.
Unknowingly, she had crossed the invisible boundary-just one building away from the epicenter of the forbidden zone.
And then, it happened.
The air trembled.
The oval-shaped object at the heart of the anti-force field began to glow-no, pulse-with terrifying brilliance.
Golden flares danced across the sky as arcs of pure energy tore through the air.
The containment field sputtered, fractured lines spreading like glass under pressure.
A moment later, the night sky lit up like day.
High above, a patrol helicopter circled frantically.
"Child spotted near the object! She's too close!" the pilot barked. "We can't reach her-field's absorbing everything!"
The radio crackled.
Then-
Silence.
The force field collapsed in an instant.
A blinding flash erupted-brighter than a thousand suns-swallowing the city in pure white.
Time itself seemed to fracture. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then came the quake.
The ground convulsed. Skyscrapers shattered like brittle glass. Their steel bones twisting midair, then vanished into ash.
Entire blocks within a 500-meter radius were erased-no fire, no explosion, just silence and ruin.
And then...
What happened to Iris?