The city of Moamao stood in ruins.
Smoke curled from collapsed buildings, the acrid scent of burnt metal and flesh lingering in the air. The streets were littered with debris—twisted steel, shattered glass, and bodies covered in white sheets.
Emergency crews worked tirelessly, sifting through the wreckage, searching for survivors. The cries of the wounded echoed through the night, mixing with the wails of those who had lost everything.
And in the midst of it all, whispers spread.
The people spoke in hushed tones, their voices filled with disbelief and sorrow.
What happened?
Why did Voltstrike do this?
Who was the man that stopped him?
They had no answers. Only rumors.