Okay, another piece of the puzzle...sorry for taking so long in getting this out! As I said, I've been preoccupied with other things, and "being" Elf is a lot more tedious and time-consuming than it looks.
Warning: There will be blood....lots of it...streets full of it...
Massacring
Date: February 2, 4092
Location: Shining Square, Hecate Arrow
Time: 03:53 AM by Apollo's Chrono (07:55 AM by Hecate's Chrono)
I sigh deeply with my eyes closed, trying to swallow my anger against Buck, against myself, against the world in general. As much as I'd love hiding in this alley, philosophizing about my dilemma, and venting my anger, my questions will have to wait until later. When I'm safe again.
Yeah, right. Like I've ever been safe in my entire life.
When I open my eyes to peer around the dark alley, the exploding fireworks scatter a veritable rainbow of colors in every direction, reflect off the silver walls, and cast strange, unearthly lights on the people around me.
Now I'm understanding what Buck meant when he said this was strange. I can't remember the last time I saw this happening on Hecate Arrow—I mean, something this strange.
And confusing. I know even less about Hecate Arrow than Buck does. Since he isn't here to help me, I'll have to figure this out on my own.
Unless I rescue him from the police, of course. But if I know anything about Buck, it's that he'd tell me to keep going, no matter what happened. He'd tell me to keep safe, to not worry about him.
I won't let him down, at least not again.
The crowd seems to be thinning out directly in front of me. I look up at the street sign, which says Silversmith Street. Hmm...that means I'm in Shining Square. There are a lot of silversmith forges in this square, along with jewelry shops and apprentice registration buildings. It's fairly close to the Huntress Facility—if I just scout along the backs of the forges, I might be able to—
“Look out!”
I jerk toward the direction of the scream. A small group of people are frozen in horror, staring up at the sky. I look up as well, just in time to see a flaming ball of shrapnel plummet down and smash into the people. The resulting explosion rocks the ground, flinging me to my knees. When I look back over to where the group was standing, a smoldering pile of melted silver greets my eyes.
Screams of terror break out in every direction as people begin running madly to escape the scene of destruction. It's no use; more flaming projectiles hail down upon them, obliterating whole sections of pavement and the people standing on them. I crouch down behind what seems to be the only brick wall in the entire square, my fingers shoved into my ears, my eyes squeezed shut.
No, no, no, it can't be happening! Not again!
No matter how hard I try to block it out, everything is all too clear: the screams, the flames, the pounding of many feet against the ground. Their panic is infectious and so overpowering that I feel it working through me, setting my heart to palpitating, my wrists to tingling, and my mind to swirling. All around me is the sound of fear and confusion, with an undercurrent of hopeless hoping that they'll somehow escape unscathed.
This is too clear, real, familiar...I'm going to scream! Maybe I do scream and maybe I don't. I only know that I want to close my eyes and never wake up again.
I force myself to focus inside instead of outside, shutting out all other sounds. Even the heat that constantly brushes my skin soon becomes only a sensation I barely acknowledge. My breathing slows, each intake of air held longer than the last. Slowly, imperceptibly, I go unconscious.
Date: February 2, 4092
Location: Shining Square, Hecate Arrow
Time: 04:48 AM by Apollo's Chrono (08:50 AM by Hecate's Chrono)
This can't be happening.
Not again.
I feel so strange.
Like I'm back in the past.
This can't be happening.
Not again...
The thoughts flutter through my mind, as pale and lilting as sunlight across rose petals. Only the smell in my nostrils is smoke and burning flesh and melted silver—not roses.
I feel so strange.
Like I'm back in the past.
Not again...
I force my lids up, as if daring my already shattered psyche to take in more of the carnage around me. The sight that greets my eyes is more horrific than I ever imagined.
Large holes are gauged into the ground, blackened and soot-covered. Melting silver drips from the roofs above my head. The street is almost completely obliterated, unrecognizable in its destruction. But the worst part are the bodies.
Up and down the street, blown every direction, shredded sometimes to infinitesimal bits, are the people who stood here less than an hour ago. They're dead; all of them.
Just like I saw before.
I notice a sudden dampness at my feet. I look down and almost scream in terror.
Blood! Seeping under my skirt...soaking my clothes!
With a shudder of revulsion, I scramble to my feet. My gloves are already dribbling red droplets everywhere.
Odd. If I've been unconscious for a while, shouldn't the blood have coagulated?
I'm ignoring, obviously, the all-important question of why I'm still alive when everyone else is dead. That's something I don't want to think about.
Not now, while I still need to escape from Hecate Arrow and change my clothes and get new ID papers and—
Find Buck.
I need him more than ever before. I don't know what's going on here, and I have no hope of figuring it out. Buck will know, and even though he didn't realize the fireworks were merely a ploy to draw everyone out to so that they could be massacred (who could want that?), he's still my only hope of ever understanding the mystery of this place.
The mystery of my destiny, I'm sure. I can almost hear his voice saying that.
Whatever it means, I snort to myself.
I lift my feet gingerly, making squishy sounds in the muck. It reminds me of....of something I'd rather forget.
You can't forget; you never will.
Clenching my bloody fists, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and literally push the images out of my mind. They won't stay away for long, but at least I'll get a few moments' peace from the memories that are eerily similar to my surroundings.
There. Now I can think tactically.
My best option, I think, is to find Buck. He knows more than I do, and though sometimes I hate to admit it, he's usually right about everything. I'm almost afraid to go on without him.
So find him it is.
I make my way down the alley, wincing and cringing at each sloshing step. If I remember correctly, the police station is six blocks from Shining Square. There's also one block west on Birch Street and a north turn at an intersection, but the images are crowding together in my mind, making it hard to remember correctly.
As I turn the corner into the road, a bright flash of light almost blinds me. I yelp, leap, and almost lost my balance in the slippery muck. Instinctively, my hand whips into the knife satchel at my waist and pulls out a blade. Without looking, I throw it in the general direction of the flash. There is a
clank of metal against metal.
At that moment I really do lose my balance and fall
splat on my rear into the blood. It's weird that so much blood should have flooded this end of the alley. But I barely think about that as I dive toward the knife, snatch it up, and scramble to my feet.
I look up to see a cam-drone hovering a few feet away, about level with my head. It's shaped like a giant square box with a helicopter-like tail with antennae sticking out of it. A single blue eye, the camera lens, glows in the center.
It took my photograph.
That was the flash. And suddenly there comes another one. I cover my eyes, streaking blood across my face, and sprint forward. The drone whirls and follows me at a leisurely pace.
I have to get away from that thing!
I turn the corner sharply and start uphill. The blood seems to be less here. Of course, the sensible supposition would be that all the blood drained down the hill and into Shining Square. But what aspect of any of this makes sense?
When I reach the curve of the hill, I stop again. Not because of the slipperiness of the road. Far from it. My legs seem to freeze into place, and I can't move. I'm stock-still, staring.
In front of me, reaching as far as my eyes can see, the streets are littered with corpses. I can't think of them as people, it's too horrifying. Layers upon layers of bodies, extending to the horizon. Men, women, children...
I gasp and completely forget about escaping the drone. It floats quietly next to me, snapping photo after photo, but I pay no attention. I'm too busy struggling to control the churning in my gut that calls for release.
This can't be happening.
Not again.
Not again...
I stumble forward, my feet sloshing in the half-coagulating muck. When I put my hand out to steady myself, red smears against the silver wall. The drone flashes its camera again.
Why is it photographing me? What will it do with the pictures? And why do I see no other drones around?
This is a city-wide tragedy here. I'd think the air would be full of drones, snapping images of the carnage for newscasts and police reports and—
That's what it's doing.
I freeze again, terror working through my numb limbs like a tingle of fire.
It is recording for the police and the news. That's why it's photographing me.
The lone survivor.
I gasp in shock at the final realization.
They're framing me for this.
I bolt, just like that, and take off running, slipping and splashing my way through the streets—such strangely blood-filled streets—not looking where I'm going. I know only one emotion, fear. And in my ears rings the one word I will never, ever, forget. The one word that can save my life. The one word I've known since I was a child fleeing the destruction of my world.
Run.
Note: This is the edition with all the changes I made on Blitz's advice. Thanks, Lightning-dude!
That's the key to suspense I suppose. 
