The Fallen Estate
The sprawling expanse of the governor's mansion was completely unrecognizable, the magnificent building and its nicely kept garden now shattered into a canvas of destruction.
The ground, once smooth and polished, was marred by deep craters, as if the earth itself had become fragile beneath the weight of the battle.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the estate, turning it into a maze of ruptured stone and dirt.
Some fissures stretched for dozens of feet, their jagged edges glowing faintly from the lingering heat of their creation.
Amidst the palette of craters stood a man, the long military coat on his shoulders flapping continuously in the wind, its bottom damaged, burnt, and blackened.
His eyes carried a detached intensity, reflecting the chaos around him.
He stood still, as if the devastation was beneath his concern, merely a trivial consequence of his power.