As I regained consciousness, my first thought would have been that I had just awoken from a nightmare... except that the first thing I saw was that blood-red sky. So my first thought was that something was wrong with me. "I need to report back to HQ AFTER I get myself to a hospital... perhaps I was hurt more badly by that criminal than it appeared at first." It seems pretty ridiculous looking back upon that decision... but at the time I couldn't bring myself to believe that something in a small box could have destroyed the city of Paris and apparently left me the only living creature around. I was further convinced when I told myself that it would have been impossible for such a thing to have occurred.

"Something that came out of that box that destroyed the city and everyone present at that event but myself? Ridiculous... there were no bodies around after I regained consciousness... if anything happened at all! It's far more logical an explanation that something has happened to me..." As I walked in the direction of the nearest hospital, I told myself that everything would all right once I got myself checked out. That stopped working a few minutes later. That's when I arrived at where the hospital HAD been. "What... No, it's just me... the hospital's still here. All I need to do is..." I ended up falling flat on my face a moment later as I tripped over something. "Ouch... what did I just... WHAT!" The "something" I had tripped over turned out to be a steel table... the kind you'd see a surgeon's tools on... or a dentist's tools. "This is bad... looks like it may NOT be just something wrong with ME after all! Why haven't the other officers shown up yet... for that matter, why hasn't anybody shown up yet!"

Somebody did show up a few moments later... and it was a rude awakening."You're really out of it, huh? Don't worry about it flatfoot... because I'm about to make that permanent!" I spun around to see a gun pointed at me. It was being held by a young dog, who I could easily determine as belonging to a street gang by the crude (and violent-looking) symbols on his clothing, his attitude and the fact that he had several scars on his face. Before I could respond, he fired his gun, and the bullet grazed my shoulder. He didn't get a second shot off, as I tackled him to the ground. "For your information punk, I'm Captain Carmelita Montoya of Interpol, and you're under arrest!" "That's a laugh... considering the fact that not only has the city been totaled by some crazy bomb, but Interpol no longer exists either!"

I ignored both him and the pain from my grazed shoulder, cuffed his hands, and headed back to Interpol HQ, keeping the gun I had relieved him of pointed at his back. "You'll see... we might be the only two creatures alive in the city... for all I know maybe even the world." "Your lies are as pathetic as your skill with a gun, punk!" "If that was true, you'd be dead right now!" "We see if you think you're as funny after a night in a jail cell... I doubt that you'll be as disrespectful of the law tomorrow!"

Things continued this way until I got close to where the Interpol building was... WAS being the key word. "Want to repeat that line about the two things I'm pathetic at?" I didn't have a chance to respond... somebody opened fire from the ruins of what had been the Interpol building, and the punk ended up taking a bullet to the face. I didn't have any chance to fully comprehend what had just happened as whoever had just shot the punk then opened fire on me. The only good thing about the punk getting shot was that the training I had at the academy kicked in, and I instinctively dove for cover. That cover was probably what remained of a building that had been adjacent to Interpol. I didn't hide for long though... I took a peek out from behind my hiding place, and nearly lost one of my ears. I returned fire, and quickly ducked back just as a volley of bullets whizzed past, which would have hit me in the face if I had been a second slower when it came to my reaction time. However, the next time I fired, there wasn't any return fire.

"Is this a trick... or did whoever that was shooting at me run away?" I cautiously approached the ruins of Interpol HQ... and got my answer as well as a fatal blow to the idea that I would get any help from fellow officers. That's because the person who had shot the punk and had been shooting at me WAS one of my fellow officers... or at least he had been at the beginning of the day. It turned out that I'd hit him square in the forehead, and my first thought was that my career was over because of this. A second later, I realized that my career was over anyway... Interpol no longer existed, and that's what finally drove home the fact that Paris was a dead city with nothing left to keep me there. The next day, I left Paris with my shock pistol (which had been repaired, and somehow had survived whereas pretty much everything else that had been in HQ had been destroyed,) some food and water (lightweight and non-perishable since I didn't know how far or how long I'd have to travel), and some basic survival gear which I'd managed to recover from the rubble of other buildings (a compass, several maps, a first aid kit, etc.) I had absolutely no idea how long it would be before I would find a place that I could call home again, or what horrors I would see along the way... or of the companions I would gain.