When they made it back to the square, the festival feeling had vanished. The place was transformed into a hive of surprisingly efficient activity. A handful of people were handing out weapons and what had become colloquially known as "cocktails du Bois" in the central area. Hundreds of people were pouring out onto rooftops and balconies, taking their places with their weapons in hand. Children were piling rocks to be hurled when the adults ran out of bullets. Titus Hardie was bellowing orders. And off to the side, Harry stood, the same glazed-over expression as before, this time muttering to himself. Again, Kim half-caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure (or more than one) hovering around Harry, but he blinked and they were gone.
Jean pulled his arm free of Kim's grasp, giving his shoulder a brief pat in thanks.
"Okay, Harry," he said, "you warned them, and it looks like they have it handled. Now we need to leave." Jean clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry jumped, startled.
"They don't," he said, fear in his eyes.
"Don't what? What are you talking about?"
"They don't have it handled. Titus!" Harry shouted. "Get your men off that building, it's going to–"
There was a loudwhoompsound, followed by the most overwhelming tirade of noise Kim had ever heard. The blast knocked him off his feet. The grinding, cracking, booming sound seemed to go on for an eternity, and Kim was sure the force of it was going to kill him. Lying on the ground, he looked up, and was stunned at the sight of half the Doomed Commercial Building midway through an explosion. He heard Harry shouting, "Kim, look out –"