A girl ran through a ruined city.
Her steps never paused.
Her once-elegant clothes were now disheveled.
Dust spread across her cheeks.
Her violet eyes—usually sharp, calculating—were now wide, unfocused, frantic.
They scanned every shadow, every crumbled wall, every unmoving figure.
She had been searching this city for an hour.
But found nothing.
The city had been sealed off by Association officials. No civilians, no journalists. Only authorized personnel were allowed in.
But who could stop her?
She was Amyra Celestrian—imperial princess, hailed as the most suitable heir to the throne.
A prodigy, a noble, a genius.
But right now, she was none of those things.
Right now, she was just a girl looking for someone.
Her dearest.
Alden.
Where are you? Where are you, damn it?
Her boots splashed through puddles left by broken pipes.
She stumbled past corpses—so many corpses.
Children. Women. Men.
But she didn't stop.
Didn't spare them a glance.
