A man in a white dinner jacket walks down the ruined Prehevil Street. He holds a rusty pipe in his hand and walks at a brisk, hunched over.

Around the corner you can probably hear his voice...

— You are a real mess boy, you know that, right? I'm just doing the world a favour by getting rid of you.

A few seconds later, whimpering sounds and thumps follow. It's getting late. The boy is dead.

— Now look what you did. There's blood mixed with the dust.

Caligura begins to walk away.