The city was dead, yet it still breathed. Smoke rose in uneven pillars between collapsed buildings and fractured roads, painting the sky in a haze of orange and gray. Rubble littered the streets as far as eyes could see.
Xing Yu stood at the edge of the city, the metal of his armor gleeming dark against the dim light. His silver eyes narrowed, scanning the ruins with a frown carved deep into his face. The destruction, the despair—it was worse than intelligence had reported.
He turned to the two Farian soldiers behind him, both standing straight and alert.
"Spread out," he commanded, voice sharp yet composed. "Search for survivors, but focus on finding a boy. Human. Around sixteen years old. Small frame. Shy demeanor." His jaw tightened. "Save any boys who match that description. Save everyone you can."
"Yes, General!" they both saluted and vanished into opposite streets, their steps light and silent.
Xing Yu's eyes lingered on the path ahead.
