The world was collapsing.
Ruined houses, wounded people, gray dust, acrid smoke, scorching air mingled with shrill screams and the hissing spray of ruptured underground pipes, all combined to form a brutal scene of disaster.
Silas's sensory abilities were gradually recovering. He could finally make out the wreckage inside the room, and the ringing in his ears was fading.
"What happened?!"
Silas saw Leonard open his mouth wide, shouting, looking completely disoriented. His voice filtered faintly into Silas's ears.
"It's an attack! The Nighthawks headquarters has been bombed!"
Silas shouted back, scrambling up from the floor. "Get out of here, now!"
He grabbed Leonard and yelled a few times until the other man finally snapped out of his confusion.
Leonard turned and pulled Klein and Grela up from the ground.
The four of them supported each other, stumbling and staggering out of the already damaged and tilted hotel.
They barely made it down the crumbling staircase, crossed the rubble-strewn hotel lobby, and walked out the front door.
The scene before them was a road in total chaos.
Carriages overturned, the street surface collapsed, broken water pipes gushing water, the building across the way with all its windows shattered.
Pedestrians lay on the ground, clutching their injuries and wailing.
Silas looked toward the building next to the hotel, where the Enmat Port Nighthawks headquarters used to be.
The two-story building that housed the Fishing's Club had vanished.
It was as if a giant mouth had aimed straight at its center and taken a massive, greedy bite.
Rubble and debris spread out in a radial pattern, floorboards torn away, with only the remnants of broken walls on either side proving that a building had once stood there.
"Dear God..."
Leonard beside him murmured in shock.
Among the ruins lay mangled remains. Several people rushed through the wreckage, moving concrete blocks aside to rescue survivors beneath.
Silas immediately recognized the lead figure as their squad captain, Edward Crawford. His coat was in tatters, and his left arm was gone from the wrist down.
He struggled to lift cement slabs with his one remaining hand, trying to free team members trapped below.
His fingers were torn and bleeding, blood congealing on the concrete, leaving vivid red handprints behind.
"Let's go help with the rescue."
Seeing Edward's pitiful state, Silas sighed inwardly. Whatever grudges existed could be set aside for now. As fellow Nighthawks, they had to help each other in this moment.
The other two naturally didn't refuse.
They rushed into the ruins to help the Enmat Port Nighthawks with the rescue effort.
When Edward saw them coming, complex emotions flickered in his eyes, but the urgent situation left no room for idle conversation.
Everyone worked at maximum speed to save lives. After all, every moment's delay meant a lower chance of survival for the wounded.
The injured and the dead were separated into different areas. Ms. Daly, with a wound on her forehead, hurried up from underground holding a green wreath.
She stood in the middle of the injured area, raising the wreath high. Pale green light radiated from it, bathing the moaning wounded in its glow. Their expressions gradually became peaceful.
Seeing this, Daly's tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly, but when she looked at the dead nearby, her expression turned sorrowful again.
"Captain, five critically injured, seven dead. The others... couldn't be found."
After the scene was mostly cleared, a lightly wounded Nighthawk came over to report, his eyes filled with grief.
Edward closed his eyes briefly upon hearing this.
"Couldn't be found" really meant they'd been too close to the explosion's epicenter and their bodies had been obliterated.
"Captain Edward, Ms. Daly, what exactly happened?"
The three newcomers stepped forward, asking seriously.
"Our team members... were controlled."
Daly shook her head and recounted what had happened.
At the time, not only had those team members self-destructed, but their carriages had also been loaded with explosives.
If Edward hadn't used a sealed artifact, sacrificing his left hand to block part of the blast, the death toll would have been much higher.
"...This may all be connected to the culprit we've been tracking. When the attack began, those controlled team members said, 'Ms. M sends her regards.'"
Ms. M?
Silas had been fairly calm until that moment, but hearing this, his mind jolted!
He remembered now!
That letter Sirius wrote had been addressed to Ms. M.
It was Ms. M who had Sirius and the others control the original Silas, leading to his death and Silas's transmigration.
Could it be that this Ms. M was actually in Enmat Port, and she was the very enemy they were about to face?
"From that title, she must be an envoy of the Aurora Order. Those damned lunatics!"
Ms. Daly's eyes were brimming with tears, clearly showing her deep hatred for them.
Silas's mind was in chaos, barely able to process Daly's words. He struggled to steady himself and spoke up. "So what do we do next? Keep pursuing..."
Before he could finish, he suddenly whipped his head toward a particular direction without warning! It was as if some invisible rope was yanking him that way.
The movement was so abrupt that everyone nearby jumped.
"Silas, what's wrong?!"
Ms. Daly asked.
Silas's expression was extremely grim. His pupils constricted as he stared toward the distant port district. The sky there had somehow become swirled with blood-red clouds.
The Secrets Suppliant characteristics inside him were responding frantically, as if some terrible danger was brewing that could very likely bring catastrophic disaster!
"Over there!"
He pointed, realizing his hand was trembling slightly. "I can feel a dangerous presence gathering power. That aura's tied to the True Creator — something's wrong. If we don't stop it, it could spiral out of control."
"The port district, that's where they went to investigate, isn't it?"
Daly said, "Is Ms. M behind this?!"
"Doesn't matter who it is!"
Silas practically shouted. The alarm bells in his head were ringing frantically. "If we don't go now, it'll really be too late!"
He tried to make the others understand the severity of the situation, but looking around, all he could see were casualties everywhere. Those barely still standing were just the few of them.
With just these people, could they stop it?
"Can you pinpoint the exact location?"
At that moment, Edward suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and low. His coat was covered in dust and torn to shreds, but his eyes still shone bright.
Silas took a deep breath, controlling his emotions.
"I can."
"Good. Wait for me to go down and get something, then we'll head over together."
His words were calm, but like a volcano before eruption, they accumulated power beneath the surface.
He straightened his ragged coat and stood upright.
"Since the Aurora Order has sent us their regards, we Enmat Port Nighthawks can't be rude... naturally, we must return the favor a hundredfold."