Forging Unity from the Ashes

ROMAN

Blood and ash. That's what remained of our grand Alliance Summit.

I stood amid the wreckage, my muscles still trembling from the shift, adrenaline slowly draining from my system. The acrid scent of smoke hung in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood and the sour stench of fear. The bombing had left nothing untouched—shattered glass crunched beneath my borrowed boots as I surveyed what was left.

Seventeen dead. Thirty-two wounded. And a political nightmare brewing on the horizon.

Through the chaos, I spotted Vanessa. Wesley had found her a security guard's uniform shirt, and she'd paired it with someone's abandoned dress pants. Even in mismatched clothes, with her hair wild and face smudged with soot, she commanded attention. Her eyes darted around the room, assessing, calculating. She wasn't panicking like most of the others—she was planning.

I made my way to her, dodging medics and security personnel who scrambled through the debris.