‘Hell’s gates had finally opened’ is what I thought. A scorching city with toxic waste fumes and smoke clouds had engulfed the air and it became clear that we were destined to die. Communities became gangs and pacifists protesting became riots screaming. Boats of classy people escaped as far as they could but even they knew they were dead before sailing. Massacre an entire society without causing a complete bloodbath. Shades of red and orange spat verbal and physical threats at ancient landmarks and all we could do was regret.

I sat in a hospital full of freshly burned victims of all ages. Seven years old and my face had been burnt by an invasive flame. Bandages covered all but my eyes as I gingerly walked towards a barrier of glass. I saw what had become of us but not yet the full consequence. Water had been dropped over city spots by military plains and the king had been assassinated. He tipped us over the edge making it almost impossible to live due to what he had gambled. A kingdom.

Eight years later and this city of ours had been wiped from the memory and imagination. We had gone from a thriving one hundred and fifty thousand citizens to a four thousand people anarchy. The only survivors were those from the south side. The hospital was cramped and the people clean wounded got a chance. No one came for us because we were all presumed a lost cause for who are we without a leader? The air has cleared and we managed to grow food and find a life in these new environments but there is a catch. Beasts. Creatures that now lurk in this pyro condition. Monsters who we didn’t know exist seemed to be born from the chaos. Now at fifteen years old, I am in the protector's group. Now of age, my life must be put on the line to keep us safe. One or two die in a group of seven every battle but they now want to start a war.