Chapter 2: Is the World Truly Just?

  People fled in panic. They shoved, screamed, trampled — a single, mindless tide.

  "Help!"

  "The devil has escaped the tomb!"

  "It's the end of the kingdom!"

  Cold sweat ran down his neck like melted ice, but he couldn’t retreat; he had to reach Sister Teresa. The problem was that the uncontrollable crowd carried the human stream in the opposite direction.

  'I can't get through this way!'

  The streets that minutes ago hosted processions of the faithful were now his greatest enemy; if he tried to push through, they’d trample him alive. His heart pounded like crazy as he felt an inhuman countdown, which put his sister in ever-increasing danger. He desperately tried to somehow notice her in the crowd, but the stream was too big.

  'This is useless.'

  Growing paler from the horrifying situation, he gritted his teeth and started running in the opposite direction from the cathedral. He veered into a side street to escape the crushing main artery. Then, he sprinted through the back alleys like a hunted animal, ignoring the shadows that flickered at the edge of his vision.

  Finally, he jumped over the last old fences to burst out right in front of the explosion site! The fleeing stream was still huge here, but this time the gaps were large enough.

  Shoving past through the screaming crowds, he reached the church square. Chaos reigned everywhere. Flames completely engulfed the cathedral, the proud monument of the Church of Justice. Looking around, he saw no guards, only a small group of volunteers trying to establish some order.

  "I'm looking for Sister Teresa from the orphanage!" he shouted to one of the men, cutting through the noise.

  The man had no idea about any Teresa, but seeing the boy's desperation, he directed him to the only place he could think of. It was where the wounded were being gathered. With a pounding heart, Justinian caught sight of the suffering people, laid out in two rows. Many of them were missing limbs and were dying in ever-growing pools of blood.

  'What the hell happened here?!' he thought, terrified.

  Above all, however, he prayed for one thing and one thing only: 'Please don't let her be here... please don't let her be here...'

  Sincere faith and hope filled his head to such an extent that he forgot about everything else. He believed that through his heartfelt prayers, he could truly influence this terrible nightmare. When he walked a few more meters, it became clear that his prayers can not be answered.

  Teresa was lying covered with a blanket and was groaning from the biting cold.

  "S-Sister Teresa?"

  Despite a gaze full of pain, upon seeing Justinian, she mustered enough strength to slowly smile.

  "You… should’ve stayed… at the orphanage…" she said with great difficulty.

  The young man, seeing her in such a state, was in absolute shock. The pool of blood around her made his mind go numb with dread.

  Teresa, though she was barely holding onto consciousness, noticed his terror. She didn't have much life left, and she knew it well.

  "Don’t speak, Sister. I’ll find help—" he stuttered, frightened and desperate.

  One of the most important people in his life was mortally wounded, and he had no idea what to do.

  Teresa coughed lightly. Her return to the Great Order was near. She was afraid of what would happen to her children when she was gone. What would become of them in this wretched world without her care.

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  "J-Justinian..." she said quietly.

  "Sister... I..." he fell silent, seeing that these were his guardian's last words.

  As she faded, her last thoughts were for the orphans—and for Justinian.

  'How will this poor boy get through life with his terrible bad luck...' the worry flashed through her mind.

  She so badly wanted him, who still tried to smile despite the catastrophes he experienced, to finally find peace. But she could not do anything anymore. All that remained was her hope that the Great Order would eventually reverse his terrible fate.

  She shook her head faintly.

  "Never... lose faith... in Justice..."

  Her hand went still.

  And so, in the shadow of the fire consuming the costly church buildings, Sister Teresa died. The only reason dozens of abandoned children grew up to be decent people, for a meager fraction of the buildings cost.

  Although the chaos around him was growing, Justinian stopped paying attention to it. People were screaming and running away, some were dying in silence. But none of it reached him.

  At one point, he felt something tug at his arm and a woman shout in his ear, but even that did not pull him from his shock. In his hand, he clutched Teresa's ever-colder hand.

  Memories of the past played out in his head, of when the sister was his only support. How she protected him from people's anger when he got into mischief. How she was the only one in the city—besides his sick brother—who could give him a sincere smile.

  He didn't even notice when, full of pain, he began to scream, letting out everything that was now churning in his soul. But even that changed nothing. Reality was still reality, and the dead Teresa would never come back to life.

  Meanwhile, the world around him did not stand still. The number of victims from the explosion and the fire itself was growing, and the square was steadily filling up with the wounded. Although Justinian was unaware of it, the people around him were being rocked by new shocks.

  "The warriors and the queen are trapped by a ring of fire in the palace!"

  "What happened to the devil?!"

  "Explosions were heard in the residential district!"

  Unfortunately, these words did not reach the boy. He was still crying, holding the hand of the person who had fought the world for him.

  Only the collapse of the burning cathedral's roof brought him somewhat back to reality. Standing up, he saw that there were now far fewer people in the square. It seemed the chaos had become more controlled as a result, but he still saw no city guard anywhere.

  He didn't know what he should do now, what would happen to the orphanage, his brother, or himself. The only thing he felt was a huge emptiness that consumed all his thoughts. With his head bowed and without thinking, he shuffled his feet, not looking where he was going.

  He walked slowly, without looking back. For a long time, he didn't notice that the city ahead of him looked different than usual. Nor did he notice that the people who had earlier been fleeing the square were now running in the opposite direction.

  "What are you doing, you idiot?!" Only the shout of a middle-aged man who painfully bumped into him brought him more to his senses.

  The panicked crowd nearly trampled him, and he struggled to get back on his feet. It was then, in the distance, closer to the residential district, that the boy noticed something that instantly sobered him up. The district where the orphanage stood... was on fire!

  'No...' He broke into a run towards the fire. From this distance, he couldn't see exactly where the fire had started, but he had to save his brother.

  Passing one street after another, he trembled with terror, and one image kept appearing before his eyes, returning like a horrifying specter. It was the image of Sister Teresa, whom he had found dying.

  He couldn't let the same thing happen to Zonik.

  'This is all some damn nightmare,' he kept telling himself as he got closer and closer to the burning district.

  He no longer paid attention to the reality around him. He didn't notice the people who, in this dramatic moment, instead of helping others, were focused on looting empty houses and pillaging.

  The closer he got to his orphanage, the more desperation took hold of him.

  'Please... I have to save my brother...'

  His heart pounding with singular purpose, he barely registered the sight of the blazing houses or the unnatural silence where crowds should have been.

  Nor did he notice a figure in a face-concealing cloak, who took note of his frantic run.

  'Zonik... I'm coming!' he now repeated in his mind.

  He only had a few dozen meters and one corner left to run when a powerful blast of heat erupted from one of the nearby buildings. Startled, Justinian fell, landing painfully, but he desperately scrambled up from the littered street to continue his run.

  'Just a little more...'

  His entire mind was filled with only this one thought. Rushing with all his might, he soon reached the corner and turned onto Worthy Street! He immediately threw himself towards the orphanage building!

  Unfortunately, it often happens that when misfortunes befall a person in life, they come in series. Cruel fate forced him to watch his home—the orphanage—collapse under the raging fire.

  "It's impossible..." he said, feeling his entire world collapsing along with the orphanage.

  It was clear that whoever was inside had no chance of survival. Madness appeared in boy's eyes again. He began to scream in terrible pain for the loss of his brother.

  In such state he did not notice the sound of footsteps behind him on the ash-covered road. Soon his scream was cut short as a crushing impact exploded against the back of his skull.