He's too late.

It's the first thing that comes to mind. He's too late, he couldn't stop them in time, he had failed.

A once beautiful building, full of technology, wonders, advancements, magic. An establishment that would have made many proud, and had in the past. It was supposed to be able to handle anything and everything, contain even the strongest of magics while letting it work its spells upon objects, places, people.

And yet, it had all gone up in flames, literally. There was nothing left of this proud building, everything had come crumbling down, fallen into a mess. One would never be able to image what lay here before destruction had run wild.

The man felt frozen in time, only managing to watch the flickering flames sway against the night sky. They managed to illuminate the wreckage, giving light to the fallen machines, the barely standing structures, the lifeless bodies.

It shouldn't have been this way. So much, too much was lost. Research. Lives.

None of this should have happened.

And he had failed to stop it.

Guilt rises in his chest. Thoughts of how he could have stopped the experiment, prevented all of this clouded his mind. He had done all he could, alerted others, tried to speak to that man in charge of it all, but he had been powerless. A single call had kept him away- was it planned? He'd never know.

Somehow, he manages to move his feet after his stare had been transfixed upon this broken sight. It was oddly enchanting; he never thought that he'd find something like this so striking. Destruction had its moment of beauty, something he didn't want to acknowledge and never would.

This all seemed liked a dream- a nightmare. It was the worst possible outcome that had, sadly, come true. He was still coming to terms with this all, finding it so hard to believe that this had happened.

Slow steps are taken, shoes crunch against ground, broken pieces of wood. He does his best to avoid the bodies, any type of living (or once living) thing. His gaze is kept at a certain level to avoid looking at them. He doesn't have the heart to see bodies with no life, hurt, damaged beyond repair (not all, of course, but from a quick glances he could see so much dyed in red; it made him feel sick).

The man keeps walking, part of him hoping to find a living person, a survivor. But in this chaotic mess, in this magical explosion, how could there be one? It would have to be a miracle. And his heart sinks as he recalls what had gone on here, what cruel experiment was being conducted.

How could they have used someone so young, so innocent? A life was whisked away in the blink of an eye. It shouldn't have happened.

He takes in a deep breath, coughs. Smoke had filled his lungs and who knows what else that filled this tainted air. He didn't have long to be here, time wasn't on his side.

Someone would come, eventually. Soon. A huge project that had caused a major explosion would definitely sound some alarms. The smoke rising in the air would be a sign if that booming noise hadn't been one.

He has to find something, anything. But, there's nothing here, nothing left. Papers are scattered, ripped, burning, illegible now. Technology broken, exploded, malfunctioning, useless. People...dead.

He thinks to give up- what else is there to do? No, he can't. He was never one to give up hope and he wouldn't start now.

Then, he hears coughing.

It's not his own. Immediately, eyes widen, looking around the chaos as he begins to focus on this weak sound. A child's cough, it's coming from the center of it all. He runs, the fastest he ever had. Fallen wood and debris are pushed aside to reveal a boy in blue. Small eyes try to force themselves open, face dashed with a bit of soot. A quick check of the boy reveals him...unharmed. No bruises, no cuts, scrapes, no burn marks. But most importantly-

he's alive.

A smile begins to form on the man's face. Maybe he wasn't too late after all.

"I'll get you out of here and get you somewhere safe."

The boy tries to respond, but only manages a cough. He's weak, dazed, doesn't know what's going on. His body hurts, it stings. What had happened to him? He doesn't know. He only knows that voice and how he feels safe around it.

The man takes in a careful breath as he utters words of reassurance. He doesn't know, but hopes the boy can hear him. With great care, he scoops the boy up into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. He feels small hands grip onto his shirt.

He's relieved, filled with hope once more. He wishes he could pass the feeling onto the boy to.

"Everything will be okay. I promise..."