"There are some survivors alive beneath the rubble!"
"Quick! Rescue them as quickly as possible!"
"There is a large forest fire in the Irahara Forest of South-West Sekigahara!"
"A squad of Martial Seniors has been deployed to douse the fires."
"Preliminary estimated death toll… seventy million people!"
In a special conference room in the depths of the Sekigahara Citadel, fourteen clan leaders had gathered, seated on a mat upon the ground with their legs folded under them. They donned ostentatious loose yukatas that draped over their bodies, with the crest of their respective clans embroidered atop their chests.
The air was macabre.
Grave.
Not even they could hide the sheer gravity and severity of the catastrophe that had struck their nation. The chilling preliminary death count was so horrifying that it beggared the mind. Some of them couldn't help but wonder if this was all just a horrible nightmare from which they would awaken soon enough.
And yet, it was all real.
