We veer to the left and sunlight illuminates the dust that hangs in a gap between the buildings. Beyond it is a barren field littered with debris: charred trunks of trees, overturned vehicles, and several large metal instruments that look like parts of hovercrafts. No leaves flap on the few remaining trees that managed to survive whatever happened here.

As we walk farther, I see a house, then another, then a whole neighborhood. Windows are blown out of their frames and walls are twisted at odd angles. Even sections of the street are ripped from the ground.

Victoria stops walking and crosses her arms. She stares ahead again, saying nothing.

“Do you know what happened here?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t, so I ask, “What hap—”

“I was here, Arman. Your father was here. Orcher was here. Larson. Crowe. Fallsten. When we got called to Belvun two years ago, none of us knew we’d be caught trying to rescue people from…this. Not even the Belvish Embassy expected it. But one day, we got a call. We were needed to help assess a situation in Ellaciss.

“When we flew out here, we saw a cloud of smoke. Nothing…dangerous. Not yet. It was just a small fire in one of the neighborhoods, far enough away to call for an evacuation if we needed. Some Belvish emergency responders were taking care of it, though. Other than that, all we had were a few passenger hovercrafts and Molters.”

Victoria points up and traces a line over the city with her finger, stopping at the barren field we crossed.

“We landed and came to this neighborhood. Met with some Belvish Officials to discuss the situation—and then things went to hell. We heard a boom, then a second, and a third. The gas lines, exploding house-by-house, getting closer, and closer. The blaze jumped. The trees were already too dry, and caught fire like twigs. I remember… I remember looking up. The craft that was dousing the original fire had been hit by shrapnel. Its engine was on fire, the entire thing was spinning out of control. It crashed in those trees.”

She points farther into the neighborhood at a long gash in the ground.

“People started screaming. Running. Shoving each other to the ground. Children lost their parents. Kids were crying and people just picked them up and ran. There was no time to see whose child you had. Houses were burning. Smoke was billowing from the trees. You just knew you had to get out, but cars were useless because the road’s maglev generators shorted out. Then the city’s main—”

Victoria stops talking. Her mouth is still open, and her chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath.