Corellia | Coronet City | 453 Sal-Solo Ave. Bomb Site
It was chaos. The entire bottom floor of the 453 building was strewn with ash, rubble and fire. Men and women of countless species cried out in countless tongues, crying out for the same things. Crying out in pain, for their families, for the Force ... for their Gods. The bearded man, dressed as a Speaker of the Rim planets in all black, watched with a troubled expression. The wounded were crying out in vain. No one could save them now except for men and women like them, and that was no place that one could safely store their hope. For men and women did as men and women did, and some men and women did things like this.
"Preacher!" A voice called his name, but the bearded man didn't turn. He just watched. Broken. They said that each moment in time stood by itself, and only our perceptions linked each moment together. They said that the universe was only the creation of our own collective subconscious, but who would create a universe like this? Men and women, the bearded man supposed. Men and women. The source of all the joy in the universe, and all of its ills. Men and women lived, and they died, and the universe stayed the same. Because men and women sustained it, obliterated it, built it up again, all the while creating more and more men and women to maintain the illusion of their creation.
"Speaker!" The bearded man felt a firm hand rest on his shoulder, and so he turned. His eyes met those of another man; a shorter, clean-shaven man with wide, scared eyes. The bearded man's, in return, were troubled in an understated way. They gave the appearance of calm where there was none, and assurance when there was little. And yet he did not speak, because he could not find the words. "Speaker, these people could use the voice of God."
The bearded man sighed and looked again at the bombing site, where the countless wounded lay and emergency services busied about in their orange jump suits. What would the voice of God do for these people? Nothing, except make their passing easier. Because they were stupid, unfortunately stupid, and they had not seen what the bearded man had seen. But for them, he give them what they needed. He had nothing else to do except watch. So he nodded, placed his hand on the shoulder of the other man, and smiled sadly.
"So they do, my son." Moving past the man, he made his way through the crowd of people and towards the site. "So they do..."