The neon lights in Block C flashed once before going out completely. An eerie silence covered the central prison. Detective Pistachio stood before the iron bars, holding his hot coffee, which had suddenly lost its flavor. Inside the cell, five high-profile prisoners, set for execution next month, now lie stiff with expressions of peace.
There was no blood. There was no smell of poison. Only empty bodies whose souls seemed to have been pulled down by the earth's gravity. Pistachio looked at his watch: 00:00. On his radio, the operator's voice shook, "Reporting, a similar situation has happened at the Odyssey Nightclub and nearby locations. All targets are dead."
Pistachio knew this was not just a murder case. It was the start of something bigger. Something that would force humans to choose: repent or turn to ash.