Billows of smoke flowed onto the streets, engulfing it in immediate suffocation. Flames mimicked a tsunami as waves of fire flooded every corner of the town and destroyed all in its path. Hues of orange and yellow danced along the rows of mud huts with straw roofs, painting them in perfect acrylic. Blackened masses of ash and the remnants of a civilisation enveloped the town as another object caught the flame's eye: the watchtower.

A man, mid-forties with a face of scars and distraught, rang the bell. He was no taller than the average man and wore a wig of grey with his checked red-and-blue pyjama pair. His usually peaceful eyes metamorphosed into terror at the sight below him. His home, his family, all he has come to know and love, he watched as the fire happily devoured it all as though it were its first meal in a while. Bodies were flung across the town's expanse; both dead and alive as panic enveloped them all. Frozen frowns of horror lingered on the dead's faces before being set ablaze by the growing inferno of a town.

The man's grip on the bell string tightened, yanking at an animalistic tempo. Surely someone from a nearby town or city had to have heard it. Surely someone had heard their cry.

It was a still spring night with the breeze at a minimal level and clouds absent from the sky. Before the uproar of chaos, all to be heard that night was the soft croak of crickets and slight hum of white noise. Now, terror blanketed the town as screams and cries along with the loud shriek of the bell spilt out of the town and to neighbouring civilisations.

From their position on a hill, one to two kilometres away from the town, the leader of the town watched as fire devoured the entirety of it. His eyes watered in disbelief at the sight standing before him. The screech of the bell sliced through the night, the sound too loud in the leader's ears for him to ignore. But what could he do? There was no way of fixing this, no way of saving them at this point. Everything around him seemed to crumble simultaneously and almost immediately as he watched the top of the watchtower catch on fire, he fell to the ground. His lips kissed the dirt as he broke out into loud sobs. His tears mixed with the blood dripping down his nose served as moisture to the scorched desert terrain beneath his feet.

The men behind him wore robes of red and cloaks of black above steel armour. A well-crafted brown leather belt kept the garments in place and played the role of storing each of their swords. The man at the front – the leader, Byun Hyeonki – had his ebony hair strained back into a suffocating braid that fell down his back and a waterfall of a beard with gold beads braided into it. His eyes were cunning and lethal, resembling nothing but utter darkness and held power to them that reminded everyone who glanced in his direction of the blood spilt under his name.

"I hope you see our concern now," Hyeonki uttered, approaching him. His footsteps were heavy and quickly drowned out the sound of the bell. Feeling a wave of fury, the leader of the town immediately turned to glare at him.

"You just burnt down my whole town. A town of innocent civilians. There were children in there! Pregnant women and elderly parents alike waiting only to see their husbands and sons return from war only to die right before their arrival! And here you are only focusing on your own problems! To hell with you! All of you! Leave! Haven't you caused enough damage already? Leave me to mourn in peace! Please!"

Hyeonki raised an eyebrow in slight amusement, "I get the impression, Sir, that your grief has made you forget who we are. So, out of the mercy in my heart, I will give you three seconds to remind me why I should not destroy you as we did with your town."

"Kill me all you want!" the leader of the town yelled. "I have nothing to live for anymore. But mark my words, you underestimate the Guardians. They will find your stupid prince and kill him. Kill all of you! If you think destroying my town will buy you time, forget it. I bet with all the hope I have left that they have found him already. And they'll avenge my town. They will avenge Pohang-"

Hyeonki watched as the leader of the town's blood dripped off his sword before glancing at the result of his actions. The leader's body lay limp against the ground and a few inches away, sat his head with his glossed brown eyes lifeless as they stared up at the navy sky. And almost immediately, the bell stopped ringing. Now everyone in Pohang was dead and a kilometre away, so was their leader.

"What do you say," Hyeonki picked the leader's head up by his hair and stared directly into his eyes. "Why don't we present the Guardians with a gift? After all, with all the ruining of plans they've been doing, they do deserve it."