Chapter 4

The sky had been calm, a vast expanse of blue stretching endlessly above the city of Redwood. The hum of daily life buzzed below, cars honked, people chattered, and the distant hum of machinery filled the air. But in an instant, everything changed. The UFO, an enigmatic presence that had hovered silently above the city for what seemed like a few minutes, exploded. It was abrupt, a cataclysm that defied expectation and comprehension. One moment it was there, a sleek, otherworldly structure suspended in the heavens; the next, it was gone, transformed into a chaotic amalgamation of energy, light, and destruction. The explosion was so swift, so utterly beyond the limits of human perception, that it seemed to defy the very laws of physics. It was as if the craft had not exploded at all, but rather disintegrated into a storm of pure, unfathomable power.

The shockwave came first. It was immense, a wall of force that descended upon the city with devastating, indiscriminate fury. Its impact was instantaneous, reaching the ground below in less than a heartbeat. Those unfortunate enough to be within a two-kilometer radius of the blast were crushed before they could even register what was happening. Buildings, once towering monuments of human ingenuity, were reduced to rubble in an instant. The force shredded everything in its path, concrete, steel, glass, and flesh. Organic matter was flattened, pulverized into nothingness. Those who had stood directly beneath the UFO died without ever knowing their fate. For them, the end was mercifully swift, a blink of oblivion.

Then came the fire. It erupted from the epicenter of the explosion, a searing, blinding inferno that resembled the aftermath of a nuclear detonation. The flames were impossibly bright, a kaleidoscope of colors that shifted from an eerie purple to a deep, unnatural blue, and finally to a raging orange as they consumed everything in their path. The heat was unimaginable, a force so intense that it vaporized skyscrapers in seconds, leaving behind only molten remnants of their foundations. The fire spread rapidly, incinerating nearly everything within a three-kilometer radius. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, much of the heat never even reached the ground. The towering structures of Redwood absorbed the brunt of the inferno, their upper levels disintegrating into ash and molten rock before the flames could fully descend.

Chaos reigned. By the time the people of Redwood realized what was happening, it was already too late. The city was engulfed in a maelstrom of destruction. Concrete slabs from collapsing buildings rained down on the streets, crushing cars and people alike. Those who survived the initial blast found themselves trapped in a nightmare. Some ran blindly, their bodies engulfed in flames, screaming for help that would never come. Others were struck by shards of metal and molten debris that fell from the sky, their lives extinguished in an instant. Children, pets, and adults alike were cooked alive where they stood, the pain of their deaths so intense yet so fleeting that it almost didn't matter. Almost.

Radiation blasted outward in all directions, a silent, invisible killer that poisoned everything in its path. Thousands of sieverts of radiation flooded the affected area, ensuring that even those who survived the initial devastation would not live long. The shards of the UFO that fell into the nearby river caused explosions as they reacted violently with the water, evaporating it on contact and sending plumes of steam into the air. The river itself seemed to boil, its surface churning as the molten debris slowly cooled and sank into its depths.

Amidst the carnage, smaller, more personal tragedies unfolded. A massive, spherical device, part of the UFO's wreckage, hurtled through the air and struck a bus just as Scott was about to step off. The impact flipped the vehicle into the air, and it exploded mid-flight, scattering debris and bodies in all directions. Underground oil pipelines, ruptured by the heat, ignited and added to the destruction. Explosions rippled through the city as the fire traveled along the pipelines, reaching gas stations and igniting them in a chain reaction of devastation.

In the midst of the chaos, a police officer stumbled through the wreckage. Half of her body was burned beyond recognition, her face a grotesque mask of charred flesh and melted uniform. Her hair was gone, reduced to ash and smoke, and her uniform smoldered, releasing flints of ember into the air. In a moment of unbearable agony, she drew her service weapon and fired several shots into the air, her movements jerky and involuntary. Then, with a grim determination, she turned the gun on herself, ending her suffering with a single, merciful shot.

The streets of Redwood had become a hellscape. Potholes filled with molten lava dotted the roads, their surfaces shimmering with heat. Desperate survivors, trying to crawl to safety, fell into these pits and were consumed in an instant, their cries of pain cut short as they succumbed to the searing heat. Electric lines, severed by the blast, swung wildly in the air, their live wires sparking and crackling with lethal energy. They struck people and animals alike, delivering fatal shocks that either killed instantly or left their victims convulsing on the ground.

It was a scene of unimaginable horror, a tableau of suffering and destruction that defied comprehension. The city of Redwood, once a bustling hub of life and activity, had been reduced to a smoldering ruin in a matter of moments. The UFO's explosion had not only destroyed buildings and lives but had shattered the very fabric of reality for those who witnessed it. For the survivors, if there were any, the world would never be the same. The sky, once a symbol of endless possibility, had become a harbinger of doom. And as the fires burned and the radiation spread, one thing was painfully clear: humanity was not prepared for the horrors that lay beyond the stars.

The smoke rose like a vengeful specter, a towering mountain of ash and dust that clawed its way into the sky. It spread rapidly, engulfing everything within a three-and-a-half-kilometer radius in a thick, impenetrable shroud. The cloud was dense, a suffocating blanket that swallowed the city whole. From the outside, Redwood was no longer visible, it was a ghost town, obscured by the chaos that had erupted within. And for those trapped inside, if any still lived, the world had become a nightmare of blindness and confusion. The dust refused to settle, swirling in the air as if it had a life of its own, a malevolent force determined to choke the life out of everything it touched.

Ever so often, a scream pierced the silence, a raw, guttural sound that carried the weight of despair, anguish, and pain. These were not the cries of the living as much as they were the death rattles of the doomed. They echoed through the haze, joined by the occasional thud of collapsing debris or the sharp crackle of exposed electrical lines arcing against metal and concrete. The sounds were disjointed, chaotic, a symphony of destruction that played on an endless loop. Each scream, each crash, each spark was a reminder that somewhere in the smoke, life, or what was left of it, was still struggling to survive.

The dust, fine and unrelenting, found its way into every crevice of the city. It drifted into the river, contaminating the once-pristine waters that had flowed through Redwood for centuries. The river, a lifeline for the city, now ran thick with ash and debris. Aquatic life, sensing the danger, darted away in a desperate bid for survival. But not all were so lucky. Some were boiled alive by the scorching debris that fell into the water, while others succumbed to the poison that now tainted the river. Their lifeless bodies floated to the surface, carried away by the current, a grim testament to the scale of the devastation.

As the dust continued to rise, the first sirens began to wail in the distance. They started in the surrounding areas, where the effects of the radiation had begun to take hold. Ambulances and fire trucks raced toward the city, their lights cutting through the haze like beacons of hope. But hope was in short supply. The first responders, unaware of the true extent of the radiation, rushed in without protection. They worked tirelessly, pulling survivors from the wreckage, their hands trembling as they placed the injured onto stretchers. But soon, the effects of the radiation began to show. Some of the responders collapsed, their bodies wracked with nausea and dizziness. Others grew weak, their skin pale and clammy as the poison coursed through their veins. They had come to save lives, only to find themselves victims of the same catastrophe.

Then came the second wave. This time, the responders were prepared. Clad in hazmat suits engineered to withstand the radiation, they moved with purpose and precision. "Move! Move!" one of them shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as he dashed toward a group of fallen civilians. The scene was surreal, a landscape of molten asphalt, crumbling buildings, and bodies strewn across the ground. The responders worked quickly, their movements sharp and efficient as they loaded the injured into waiting ambulances. But even with their protective gear, the danger was ever-present. The radiation was relentless, a silent killer that seeped into every corner of the city.

As the dust continued to swirl and the screams echoed through the haze, the responders pressed on. They were the last line of defense, the final hope for a city on the brink of annihilation. But even they could not escape the grim reality of what had happened. Redwood was gone, consumed by a force beyond comprehension. And as the smoke rose higher, blotting out the sun, it became clear that this was not just the end of a city, it was the end of an era. The world would never be the same.