„I... I didn't know," Mulligan dared to speak. It was not a lie; he had been told the city would be held for ransom. He didn't think Malachi would be insane enough to actually use such a weapon. But even so, he knew full well that saying he did not know would not spare him from a punch to the face at best. He knew that his ignorance did not mean his innocence. He helped make this happen. One way or another, he was responsible.
And so he stood by Jeremy's side and forced himself to listen as the Auror did, in mute horror. The darkness of the sealed bunker was only compounded by the sounds of death from beyond its thick walls. Pitifully few people had made it inside. They waited in the dark, listening to the alchemical weapon killing off the city's population.
The screaming was dying down, replaced by a dull moaning. Pain and fear mingled in a distant roar of slow death. Jeremy remained silent throughout, even as Mulligan spoke. He did not so much as glare at him. He only spoke now. „The weapon seems to have run its course..." he muttered.
„Then we could be out there again soon," said Mulligan.
„No," a voice joined them in the darkness. Eren rolled up in his wheelchair. „There's one more stage of the attack still to come."
„And what's that?" Mulligan demanded.
„The firestorm."
Jeremy did not react. He stared ahead, clutching the vial in his pocket. He had made his decision.