It couldn't be explained by anyone.
In the centre, a neglected part of the city for several decades at this point, four bombs went off. Luckily, all the buildings containing them were long abandoned. But the fires were at great risk of spreading to the populated parts of the city, so the fire department had to spend almost eight hours stopping them entirely. Was it a terrorist attack? Some bizarre kind of gang violence? Outside of the Gods and players, the city could only speculate.
But the three remaining gods stood in front of the building in the worst condition, or what was left of it. This was Halford's final resting place in this world, alongside Mateo Gaspar. All the bombs were stopped, so Mateo must have managed to press Halford's remote to deactivate them. Or he got lucky. Either way, the challenge was completed.
"So are we recovering the bodies, or what?" Xaawo asked. "Can you clear the rubble, Ladda, or what?"
"I don't think I can." Ladda sighed.
Xaawo looked for any sign of negative emotion on her face, but none could be found. No anger, no sadness, no remorse at her plan killing him, nothing.
"So are we not gonna, like, light a candle or something?" Xaawo asked, slightly desperate. "Place some jade in their mouth if we have any? Surely we could buy some?"
"We can reunite with Halford after the games end." Ladda said calmly.
"I mean, we should still honour his sacrifice, surely? Kwaku, shouldn't we honour the sacrifice Halford made?"
"Maybe it could cause some sort of suspicion." Kwaku replied coldly. "You told me places like this have hidden cameras about, so we could be monitored right now."
"And that matters?" Xaawo asked. "We killed a bunch of actual military elites, you think some two-bit cops could stop us?"
"Xaawo, if you want to honour him I won't stop you." Ladda said calmly as she turned around, with Kwaku going with her. They couldn't teleport, because the light gates were something Halford did, and he was too dead to make them.
So Xaawo looked around for a candle. No sign of a jade store or a store that sold any type of precious metal, so she couldn't honour him in the way the Mayan gods she was technically aligned with would approve of. So a candle would have to do. She bought a small candle and a lighter from what looked to be some kind of Christian store. Granted, Halford aligned himself with the Christian god, so it might be a better idea regardless. The old woman at the desk simply apologized for whoever died, and Xaawo quietly thanked her before leaving.
When she got back to the ruined building, Ladda and Kwaku were already gone. She lit the candle and placed it in front of the building, closest to where she thought Halford died.
"Sorry it had to end like that, Halford." She whispered. "Must have hurt like...like hell."
She wasn't good at goodbyes or nice words or anything of that sort, so after mourning for what she felt was the right amount of time, she got up and left the centre. Just aimlessly wandering around the city, people watching for what she felt was an appropriate amount of time before it was considered creepily staring, taking off the sunglasses she was wearing for transparency's sake.
She remembered the city from her timeline, before she lost that battle. Against a guy representing Odin. She forgot his power, but he was an amazing tactician, being able to turn numerous countries against her outpost, ending a decade of war in three hellish days. But her city was a slightly more advanced version of this. Had all the tech and resources, but a history of bloodshed that made them admittedly pretty hated on a global stage. And reading up on this places history, maybe this place was on the same track. She hoped not. The average citizen here seemed pleasant enough, just like that city.
She found a donut shop, bought a donut. For how cheap it was, the taste was heavenly. She gave the man a thumbs up before leaving to the apartment. Maybe she could find something the three of them could do before heading back…
Janet stood in the kitchen, trying to look inconspicuous. She was standing in front of an open pantry for what felt like twenty minutes. Until her mother finally walked in. So she took a pack of cookies before casually sauntering up to her.
"Hey, mom?" She asked, trying to stay cool. "What are your thoughts on that Eustace guy?"
"The one running for mayor?"
"That one." Janet affirmed.
"He's the best thing this city could ask for."
Dammit, Janet thought to herself.
"Well, how come? All I know about him is his city restoration plan, and that doesn't seem great."
"In what way?" Her mother asked as she turned to her, looking just a little pissed off.
"I mean, just seems like a plot to displace a bunch of poor people, if I'm being perfectly honest."
"A bunch of freeloaders." Her mother replied with disdain. "Just coming in and living off our welfare, then turning around and committing crime all over the place."
"Uh, mom?" Janet asked. "Aren't we descendants of an immigrant who started a crime gang?"
"Your great grandfather helped the city by making the other layabouts actually do something and take out the actually dangerous criminals."
Janet wordlessly took out an history article on her phone and scanned it. Turns out old Lorenzo Felloni was responsible for burning down businesses that didn't pay protection money, as well as killing anyone he perceived as a threat, even if they didn't have any proof, leading to the deaths of at least thirty people.
"I think he did a little more than that." She finally replied. "Besides, if we want to stop people committing crimes, maybe we could help fund the parts of the centre we technically have a little control over and give them something to do?"
"They need to pull themselves up by the bootstraps first." Her mother replied with a dismissive hand wave before walking off.
Great, Janet thought. For the first time, the daughter of a politician would have to get into politics.
Valerie sat in the TV studio. She wanted to clear the air regarding the spades issue in the warehouse as a freak accident, and to fight back against the idea of 'youth crime' being some kind of recent epidemic. On her lap was some stats which hopefully conveyed her ideas.
"Excuse me…Valerie?" A man in a suit and black sunglasses asked as he looked off a sheet. "You're up."
"And now, a young woman has an issue regarding our coverage of youth crime and called us in to talk about it." The blonde woman smiled towards the news camera. "So, let us introduce Valerie Wyatt."
Valerie walked into view, sitting on the empty chair next to the blonde lady. Next to her was the main reporter, a man with slicked back hair that seemed dyed, but she couldn't be certain.
"Hello, Valerie." The man said in a stern voice.
"Hello." She replied, causing the man to adjust his body. Just a little, probably a response to being taken aback by her voice. She thought the voice training she was recently doing was passable, but apparently not.
"I should mention, Valerie here is transgender." The blonde said to the camera, giving a slightly wider smile. "But anyway, miss Valerie." She said, putting just a little too much emphasis on the 'miss' part. "What complaints do you have with us?"
"I, uh, looked up you guys and your viewers." Valerie said as she checked her papers. "It says you all want to, quote, 'address youth crime' with an increased police presence, but the studies show that crime has been continuingly going down for the last forty years with minor increases in drug use and public drunkenness, and that seems to be a lot of people over thirty going through them. Among the youth I think it's still consistent."
"Where did this data come from?" The man asked.
"Lemme see…Lion City analysis. Data from research gathered through the city's police records and local community outreach groups."
"The same Lion City that claimed no issues arise with shoving queer issues in schools?"
"Maybe?" Valerie replied. That wasn't something she checked. "What does that have to do with youth crime?"
"I mean, if it's easy to put ideas like gender ideology in their heads, gang violence might not be too much of a stretch."
"Valerie, your response?" The blonde asked.
Valerie didn't have a response. Because how do you respond to that? He could have said the increase in youth crime that actually existed was due to an increase in chewing gum sales and she'd have the same lack of response.
"I mean…uh…trans people aren't joining criminal gangs. Least I don't think so." She finally managed to get out.
"But authors are being harassed online after criticizing trans propaganda." The man replied. "So there could be some kind of danger."
"Can I see the criticism?" Valerie asked.
"I don't have it with me, I didn't think this point would come up."
"Anyway, back to the youth crime wave that isn't happening." She finally said after a few seconds. "Maybe the solution is to fund better public services and try to stop price increases on things like childcare to give people a better life that doesn't result in them turning to crime? Just a thought?"
"Ah, your solution is more handouts." The man said, looking to the camera with a grimace.
"Not for me, I'm an adult."
"Well, explain to me the recent situation regarding the fall of a warehouse in a criminal area."
"First off, the Spades aren't a criminal gang. From my research, they just talk about cars." She didn't slip she herself was a Spade, just in case. "And from talking to them, it was a freak accident from a really old warehouse."
"And was that from Lion City analysis?" The man asked condescendingly.
"No, it was just them."
"And they could be lying. Anyway, the fear of crime is up and that is an important factor in the next election."
"Fear among unaffected groups, sure. But crime is down, once again." Valerie said, trying to stay cool against this idiot before he goes on another tangent.
"Well, that's all the time we got." The blonde said. "Thank you for your time, Valerie."
Valerie silently got up, leaving the room while accepting that she accomplished nothing. In fact, she felt stupider as she left the studio.