The wildfire of mayhem was spreading rapidly.
Bombs were still raining down from the sky, colliding with the earth at random intervals and annihilating anything they came in contact with. The city had become washed by a furious sea of red and orange, the tidal waves of fire crashing over rooftops and flooding between the streets and alleys. Like the modern Christian Hellfire or a scene out of The Book of Revelation, it was all just so... horrible. It was a perfect example of humanity's obsessive, destructive nature.
But in the air, everything was finally quiet. Those seemingly never-ending waxing and waning syrens had been cut off, replaced only by the chilling echo of the constant explosions. There were no shouts or screams from the people below, and even the wails of the emergency vehicles had gone quiet. Now there was just the horrible silence —the tense moments of nothingness immediately followed by the thundering drumbeat of death.