It was over, or so they thought.
Their captured comrades had been found, or at least those that lived, and the Blood Moon Court had suffered devastating losses as a result of the attack. After two weeks of torture, of wondering, of pain and loss and sadness, it was done.
Except that it wasn't, because some fights never ended.
Some wars simply could not be won.
People could scream and fight and bleed until their throats were raw and their limbs lifeless, but there was always a balance.
There must
always be a balance.
As relief finally began to lighten the hearts of the Negaverse, as the joy of finding
some of them alive began to overwhelm the pain of losing others, an explosion rocked the building. It was not fire. It was not air. It was not anything they had felt before. It was more powerful. More sinister. Far, far more foreboding.
It was energy, pure and dark and raw, and it rippled out like a shockwave. The building shuddered and shook, shaking stones loose from the ceiling. They had no choice but to run, to carry their injured comrades, to teleport outside if they had the strength.The building collapsed with a deafening crash, a secondary explosion firing rubble into the air as the gas tank was punctured. Flames sprang up just as the last of the survivors escaped. Amidst the chaos, every powered individual would feel it. They would feel it in their bones, and it was no less unsettling for the Negaverse as it was for the senshi.
They would feel it, and they would know.
General-King Marthozite had passed. (THIS ENDS THE RESCUE PHASE OF THE EVENT! The ORP will take place
here, starting tomorrow afternoon!)
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