Watching the boats gather up people, the smoke rise, the birds drop, it was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Watching all that beautiful fuel just float away. So wasteful. If they had stayed, my fire would’ve envolped them and grew bigger. We had been slowly taking people from the city to fuel the flames for years. I was on top of it all. This was my moment. The moment my city of turned into my city of fire. I wanted the fire to engulf every street, every person, every train, everything. Even though the fire won’t spread as much as I wanted it to, as much as I had hoped for, it would still be amazing. The organization had been planning this for years. Like I said, taking people for fuel. Sitting on top of this roof, I watched the fire spread. I thought back to all the things I hated about this city. All the people, all the noise, all the hurt. That’s what this fire was about. To burn the city and create a new one. To create my city. My perfect city molded by the very thing the old one was destroyed by. And then, finally, my city of fire would be perfect.