The bolt of lightning tore through the air, a jagged spear of raw energy screaming from the heavens. It crashed into the hospital's rooftop, splintering concrete and steel as though they were made of paper. The shockwave pulsed violently, testing the strength of each wall, room, and corridor. One by one, they gave in—blasted apart into debris and dust, reduced to crumbling rubble. Floor by floor, the destruction advanced like a living storm, relentless in its descent.
It was no natural occurrence. The lightning was controlled, bent to the will of Goldrics—the master behind the carnage. With precision and deadly focus, he guided the energy toward one specific floor... the floor where Lloyd and Silver stood.
Lloyd hadn't expected such an assault. No warning. No buildup. Just raw, blinding destruction racing toward him. And it was fast—so fast that the very air felt like it was being torn apart.
'We can't outrun this…'
