They remained outside long after the ground stopped moving, watching cracked walls, unstable buildings, and swaying power lines while bracing themselves for another tremor. Parents repeatedly checked on their children, while neighbors who had barely spoken before suddenly stood together, sharing updates and rumors about damaged buildings, overwhelmed hospitals, and a strange white residue appearing throughout the city.
Meanwhile, engineers inspected bridges and medical workers treated minor injuries, but another unusual sight was drawing attention. White streaks had appeared across cars, rooftops, statues, and other exposed surfaces. At first, the substance looked like paint or dust from damaged concrete, but its source was much higher. Vultures circling above open areas and settling on rooftops had left behind droppings that dried into conspicuous white marks.
In a city still shaken by what had happened beneath the ground, even these ordinary traces from the sky took on an eerie significance. Yet beneath the fear and confusion, they also represented something remarkably simple: life had continued, even amid the chaos.
