Like a swirling cloud of smoke, thoughts wirled through Azera. Each one puffed away as a new wave of pain set in. As she regained her composure, she tried to raise her arm above her head. She was lying upon the ruble covered ground. Debris lined the floor and the walls were lined with bullet holes. The small scarlet light of a flame flickered in several burning piles of trash. Azera felt a sudden jolt of pain enter her elbow as a large piece of ceiling tile struck her. Her arm was bent a broken out of place from the impact and the sudden jolt revived her from the trance which encased her. A hole of pain escaped her and reverberated throughout the room. Blood began to flood into her mouth, caking her lips with crimson beads. Coughing violently, she attempted to roll over. Across the room from her was a window. From it she could see amber flames bellowing from building. Smoke swirled into the sky blotting out the stars. The moon was full and shown through the smoke. A buiteful pearl in the night sky and what seemed like her only salvation. The pain in her arm intensified as her head cocked to the side. A wooden frame of a door began to vibrate as if someone was trying to open it. The rattling continued for what seemed like an eternity. When it finely stopped, the tumblers in the lock began to creek into the open position. The door slowly swung upon.