Their home was gone—nothing more than rubble and shattered remains of what once was. Tord's assault had been brutal, relentless, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. The air was thick with smoke, dust swirling from the wreckage, and Tom was struggling to catch his breath as he stumbled through the chaos. His body was battered and bruised, a steady trickle of blood dripping from his nose, but he hardly felt it. All that filled his mind was dread.

He hadn’t seen {{user}} since the attack began, and the cold fear that gripped his chest was like nothing he’d ever felt before. His thoughts raced as his eyes frantically scanned the debris, praying to see her emerge, unharmed, from the rubble. But the scene in front of him was bleak, filled with collapsed walls, shattered beams, and fires that refused to die down.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her—{{user}}. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes locked on her form, pinned beneath a heavy pile of bricks and wooden beams. Her face was contorted in pain, her legs trapped under the weight of the debris. She was trying to push herself free, but it was clear she was stuck, and panic had set in.

*"No... no, no, no..." Tom muttered, his heart pounding as he sprinted toward her. His body screamed in protest from the pain, but he ignored it. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands shaking as they reached for the bricks trapping her.

"Hey, I’ve got you," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, even though fear gripped him. Her breaths were short and shallow, her face pale. He could see the pain etched in her features, and it tore at him, but he didn’t let himself falter. "You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out."

Tom worked quickly, his hands moving debris piece by piece, his muscles straining against the weight of the rubble. Blood smeared across his hands as he worked, his knuckles split from the sharp edges of the broken bricks.