Oh my Gods. You’ve got to be kidding me.

The elevator opened up to reveal a most tumultuous sight, just beyond the now-newfound safety of the flats’ lobby: People of all kinds, from all walks of life, frantically running about as they flail their arms and scream so loudly that all together, they are fully intangible. Even from inside the building — which was purposefully built using materials such as tungsten, titanium, concrete and even the nearly-indestructible dragon glass — their blood-curdling screams of genuine, unfiltered fear could still be heard without much more than a muffle similar to that of thin wall.

I stand there, watching for a moment. The elevator door begins to close when I put my foot in it, forcing it to stop in its tracks and retreat, once more opening up the clear view of ultimate and sheer terror that was coating the streets in thick heaves of scales and flesh. I still kick myself for doing what I did that day; never have I ever since lived my life looking through the same eyes as I did when I woke up that morning.