CPH - 0: Prologue

Caden felt like his throat was on fire for the fumes of burning plastic, dust from the crumbling concrete, faint traces of gunpowder and the howls of pain and desperation that he sometimes let out.

His eyes could barely make out his surroundings because of the cloud of materials that had been scattered by the explosion and by the blood pouring out from the wounds caused by the shards of glass that ravaged his face and eyes.

His entire body was throbbing in pain, his legs no longer responding, maybe due to the shock or maybe because they were simply gone, he didn't know, he didn't care. His objective was to simply go to his family. He couldn't see them because of the smoke, but he could make out some shapes not so distant from him, one of them carrying a small backpack.

His crawl was slow and agonizing, his body begging for him to rest, his instincts yelling at him to stop, but he could not stop. Would not. He had to make sure his family was ok, he was praying for whatever great power out there that his family was alive.

His ears, still ringing from the explosion, barely picked out the heavy and slowly steps approaching him.

The man, dressed in a black military attire with a face gas mask hiding his face, could only watch in pity as his target slowly crawled towards the bodies of his family, or at least what remained of them. He had seen the aftermath of those a bit closer to the bomb, and the results weren't pretty. Well, not like the guy was any better. God knows what the two kids and the woman would look like due to how close they were compared to the man. He sure as hell would not like to know

The man in black silently sighed as he raised his AR-15 and fired two bullets in Caden's head to finish him off. He took pity on the suffering guy and just wanted to put him out of his misery. He was ruthless, not cruel.

As the guy was thinking about how he should probably get out of that hellish place, Caden was slowly feeling his body relax, his pain almost a distant memory and his vision, a sea of blackness.

Internally, Caden was conflicted. On one hand, he felt relieved that the pain was no more and that he could finally get some rest, but on the other, he felt worried about his family. He still couldn't see how they were, if they were alive, if they were still breathing, if they needed help... He didn't know. He couldn't help but blame himself for what had happened. His friend had warned him that there had been rumors of an attack incoming in central station, but hehad brushed off those worries. The station had been the center of terroristic threats almost every other day back when he was a young boy and none had actually happened. He was overconfident, and now he paid the price for it.

His depressing train of thought would have gone on for hours, but they didn't. Instead, Caden's mind immediately focused on a very specific thing. His toes. Normally he would have brushed off his small tangets and gone on brooding, but this time it was different. He didn't know why, but his mind refused to let go his that. He didn't know what it was so odd about his toes until a few seconds later, when it clicked.

If he was dead, then why did he felt his toes?