Deep within Pandora, a mansion square woke up, stirred by chaos.
Pillars stood straight, but within their tall frames, concrete shattered into dust.
Countless holes pierced the plastered walls. Reinforced steel doors dented inward in extreme angles.
Even the glasses that once survived fell into pieces—never to recover again.
Beside the fragments flowed scarlet blood.
Fresh to the smell.
Warm to the touch.
It trailed to a corpse of an old man—white hair and brows, and blank eyes that had seen death. The wrinkled hands clutched tightly on his small chest, a futile attempt to stop his untimely demise.
Threads of the black blazer ruptured in many places. The white dress shirt underneath was stained by the unending flow of blood.
On his ashen face, peace had blossomed within.
But just as the house had its breath of silence, a sudden clash of metal rang loudly in the garden.
