The squad almost moved on without Artemis before somepony gently nudged her. She followed in the others’ wake, unwilling to look at the carnage around her and unable to look away. Every building had some kind of structural damage. Bloody, disfigured bodies lay in the streets, far too few for a town of this size, yet nopony came out to meet them. Whenever they passed a body, Ash or the other flame pony would incinerate it. Remains of everyday objects — bottles, chairs, ropes, clothes, food — were scattered around. More sigils were painted on the walls; not as complex as the first, yet clearly magical in some way. The place was almost silent, without even the wind. Artemis seriously considered asking if she could just wait outside the town limits; after all, she’d gotten them here. But she had to see this through, no matter what it took.