Beneath the ruins of the Colosseum—now a vast, gaping crater—moonlight spilled through, bathing the rubble in a pale bluish glow. Dust still floated in the air, mingling with the scattered embers left from the earlier explosion. The stench of scorched metal and charred stone filled the senses, thickening the already oppressive atmosphere.
Amid the jagged chunks of broken rock, a pile suddenly shifted. A stone the size of a human head rolled away, bouncing lightly before coming to a stop. From the narrow gap beneath it, a wounded hand let go of a shattered beam, pushing it aside. A ragged breath escaped.
"Haaah… haaah…" Freddy's breathing was uneven, hoarse, as though mixed with blood. When his body finally crawled free, his back was blackened, skin blistered from unbearable heat. The wound wasn't just a scratch—flesh looked as though it had been burned alive, releasing a pungent, acrid odor.
