At this moment, the Royal Church was ablaze, the raging flames seemed determined to reduce the pitch-black night to ashes.
Sirens wailed as one ambulance and fire truck after another arrived, the flashing red and blue lights reflecting the wails and sorrows of the hostage families.
The massive cries of grief made the night seem even longer and even more despairing.
There were survivors, yes, but more had tragically perished in the incident.
Data was still being tallied, but the tears and deep sorrow of the people were difficult to measure with mere numbers.
Those bewildered and helpless faces, blue eyes, brown eyes, black eyes, all streaked with bloodshot veins and muddied tears.
Bodies kept being carried out, constantly surrounded by people lifting white sheets to reveal corpses burned beyond recognition...
There were some who identified loved ones based on faint clues...
But that was not luck, it was the greatest misfortune, a breakdown beyond the heart's capacity.
