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Icon held another survivor within his grasp, gently pulling the man up through the soil and mortar. As he pulled, he felt an odd sensation, as if the ground buckled beneath him, and the man within his grasp began to wither away even as he attempted to free the man from his would be tomb. When Icon finally pulled his hands free from the dirt, there was nothing in his hands but fistfuls of soil. 

Before he could react, the earth beneath him again began to move. Instead of buckling and sinking down further, which one might expect, the earth instead began to rise, forcing him out of the hole which he had dug to get access to the people trapped beneath the ground. Then, the hole closed, and where a large patch of dirt and rubble should have been visible, instead the neatly groomed grass of the park was once again visible. 

Sensing that who, or whatever was responsible for this bizarre occurrence is near, Icon turns and sees the winged figure that he had observed flying about Little Ulster was now standing directly across from him. He was somewhat taken aback by the appearance of the winged figure that stood before him. She was a pretty woman with long blood red hair that went about halfway down her back, and a set of six wings, the color of the feathers matched her hair. She took a step toward him, her red and gold robes flowing as she moved, her crimson eyes locked on his. 

He did not know exactly what he was looking at, but it was certain that this woman was responsible for the deaths of all of those people in that tenement, and possibly countless others that happened to be in the vicinity.

[b]”What have you done?”[/b] Icon asked as he took several steps toward the figure.