In the evening, as the last covered wagon left the north gate of Bet Street, the survivors from Shelter No. 404 sang the songs of triumph as they headed home.
The residents of Bet Street watched in bewilderment as the victors disappeared at the end of the street, many still not recovered from the sound of cannon fire that morning.
Just...
Was it over?
No one was sacrificed.
The most seriously injured was just an unlucky guard who had his face scratched by wood splinters blown off by a shell. After breaking through the gates, those invaders didn't loot and plunder like the Looters, but headed straight for the castle at the center of Bet Street—just as Mole Old Brother and others had said, they had come to teach the old mayor a lesson, and as long as you stayed inside and didn't go out, you'd be fine.
As for the fate of that missing old mayor, no one cared what became of him; his end was self-inflicted. Some even wished he were dead, never to appear before them again.