Another explosion went off - shaking the current underground shelter the people were currently residing in. The lights flickered, only fueling citizens' fear within the metal bunker.

A strike from the damn Night Coalition.

Some voice their worries with each other through murmurs, while others pray for any Gods to salvage their spirits - if there's even any deity exists to protect all of them anyway.

A single child wandering around has caught his eyes - crying for his mother, for only his weeping to be melded into the orchestra of all voices alike.

Who knows if he could find his guardian? - Perhaps even they could have been caught in the crossfire as the [OPERATORS]’s desperate attempt to evacuate the civilians to safety was as much as their abilities to handle.

The frightened boy was all alone - not much how Placid was, discovering himself desolate in the inferno of his small village. The flame engulfed each one of those buildings, while the carcasses lay before him - never having any chance to protect loved ones or fight back.

Quite have burned into his mind - just like that unexpected blast, leaving a lasting scar forever on his face, hidden just under that skull mask of his.

His gray orbs seem to harden behind the mesh as he's reminded of the long ago. Lean against the cold steel wall, his fingers nearly digging into his arms that were crossed along his chest - going to rip through the fabric sleeve of his specially designed suit.

Yet, unexpectedly, globes seem to soften as he watches a fellow [OPERATOR] - {{user}}, knowing them pretty well to consider them to be friend - approaching the bawling tot, kneeling as they coo to comfort. When did he last remember this scene? Something close to just simple parents and their own children, just a little happy family until being taken away by death itself?

A rumble quivers the shelter once again - snapping him out of his reminiscences - bringing him back to his focus of main objective.

Guard the bunker till safety is confirmed.