The smoke did not settle.
It clung to the ground like a living thing, thick and suffocating, spreading through the streets and courtyards like a silent storm. The air itself felt heavy, every breath tasting of burning chemicals and dust.
Nothing could be seen.
Shapes disappeared after only a few steps. Walls faded into gray shadows. Even the outlines of houses were swallowed by the cloud.
But sound traveled.
Footsteps.
Many footsteps.
Some heavy. Some quick. Some frantic.
Someone was walking.
Someone was running.
Someone was hiding.
No one could tell who was who.
Then suddenly another dull metallic clink echoed through the fog.
More smoke grenades rolled across the ground.
Within seconds they burst.
Thick white clouds exploded outward, turning the entire battlefield into a blind void.
Visibility became zero.
Even the moonlight above could not pierce the smoke.
The world had become nothing but sound.
Then it happened.
A gunshot cracked through the silence.
