Elena followed the trail of destruction, her camera catching every detail-the jagged remains of shattered buildings, the haphazard spray of broken glass, and the faces of those caught in the crossfire. Her lungs burned as she inhaled the acrid smoke thickening the air. Every step closer to the epicenter felt like stepping into another world, one where chaos ruled. She paused briefly, leaning against a toppled mailbox to steady herself. In the distance, she could see Union Square engulfed in chaos. A double-decker bus lay overturned, its windows blown out. Flames licked at the edges of a department store, while a statue at the square's center stood defiant, cloaked in smoke. People were fleeing in all directions, but what chilled Elena most were the bodies sprawled across the pavement-motionless, silent. She pressed on, pushing past the instinct to turn and run. Her heart raced, not just from fear but from the realization that she was witnessing history. Every step she took might uncover another piece of the puzzle. Who had done this, and why? Her phone buzzed in her hand-a text from her editor: "Where are you? Are you safe?" She quickly typed back: "Near Union Square. Multiple explosions. Don't know who's behind it yet. Sending footage soon." As she pocketed her phone, her eyes landed on a young woman sitting on the curb, clutching her bloodied arm. She looked dazed, her gaze unfocused. Elena crouched beside her. "Hey," Elena said gently. "Are you okay? Do you need help?" The woman blinked, as if noticing Elena for the first time. "I... I think it's broken," she murmured, wincing as she gestured to her arm.
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