A/N: Last chance! Trigger warning!

The silence was deafening.

He stares at the broken abyss that he used to call home, shivering when he saw the demolished buildings. Dead bodies layered the ground-twisted, missing things- it actually pained him.

What had happened to the sunny place he had called home?

The trenchcoat he wore was heavy on his shoulders, almost tripping him as it wrapped around his legs.

So many memories here, of fights and laughter. Of smells and sights of home.

The Irken symbol was plastered on everything, burnt on, and the overwhelming hate that filled his eyes reflected in the cracked windows and the broken glasses that he held in his hand.

It was still silent.

A large building that once held the name 'Membrane' was shattered into nearly two pieces, like being chopped half like a beheading. It smelt like death, like some unholy perversion of home.

Slowly, he approached the wreckage before jolting from a startling squeak of a toy under his foot. Beyond that, lay a small child.

Not breathing, not moving...stagnant. Frozen in time with this horrible wreckage in the silence of winter...

What was worse is that he recognized it.

Memories flooded to children, shrieking and laughing and-

Fighting and-

Silently, he fell to his knees.

And silently...

The smallest Irken mourned his home.