I stared in horror at the atrocities I was facing. Smoke billowed from the flames erupting from the ventilation ducts and had blocked most of the simulated sunlight over the artificial field. Not one building was safe from the fire that roared louder than I thought possible. The only thing that could be heard above the fire were the screams. Hundreds of people crying out in pain, fear, and grief. I could feel the power of their agony. I fell to my knees and covered my ears, tears streaming down my face.

"Alright, you have all been separated into groups depending on what you will be doing to help the efforts. The local authorities have kindly lent us some of their supervisory staff so we can cover more ground. Care package creators will go with Supervisor Coleman. Shelter assistants will go with Supervisor Andrews. The survivor intakers will go with me."

My friends and I stood to the side and watched as all the other students separated into their groups. Instructor Evans gave his group some basic instructions before sending them on their way to their living quarters. He made his way toward us with a vaguely sour look.