Getting out of the city had been hellish, without a doubt in the world. Daisuke Tetsuken and Abari Rizuka had to fight not only a Kensai elite but an army warrior of great prowess, and then, after it all, conscripts--though, the latter gave them momentously less trouble than the former. The two men of revolutionary thought managed to break through the conscript guards and out of the city, incidentally breaking up a barrier out that soon swelled with others who had yet to evacuate, and using the open and free passage out, did just that.

Daisuke and Abari, both heavily wounded after the struggle, retreated (fatigued, with great difficulty--having to rely upon each other to walk after awhile) to a safe place, a place Daisuke offered to Abari temporarily, the Tetsuken Estate. With the Shogunate not knowing of Daisuke's involvement with the riots, it was presumably the safest place available to rest up.

After awhile, it had become absolutely imperative that the city--the entirety of the Red Zone, the area that the Shogun had decreed to be poisoned, and even some of the Green Zone, the other half of the city meant to be protected by the Shogunate forces--be abandoned, as the departure of the choking poisons facilitated more fires, which spread rapidly. Soon enough, there was an expulsion of flame and explosives that felt to soldiers as if the earth shook in fear, a towering inferno that bore down numerous structures and burned away the lives of dozens of army, Kensai, and even conscript soldiers.

Two masked men had been seen fighting in the area considered the epicenter of the blast, but neither of them were found the next day during a cautious examination of the expansive blast area, almost completely reduced to rubble. It was that explosion that ended Day Three.

A majority of those who resided in the "Green Zone" remained, and were unharmed due to the valiant efforts of the Shogunate forces. Conscript, army, and Kensai forces had worked together efficiently to keep riots from entering that area, and took calmer measures to ensure peace there than they had during the Sensou--a lesson learned.

The survivors turned revolutionaries were scattered, communication was minimal amongst them, and an attempt at Maguro's life had ended in failure--the assassin, the legendary figure Zaila Nakamura, had been fought off, and the camp was quickly moved. The failure resulted in a heavy load set upon the Shogunate's established spy network throughout Cizok--regarding Maguro, the man Gardini blamed for this entire school of thought, that is. It was going to be next to impossible to find him, now . . .

And to top it off, they had lost a valued prisoner, obtained after the explosion that ended Day Three, one that adviser and minister of affairs Hiraku felt had valuable information to provide--but alas, that prisoner was the younger sister of a woman feared and renowned throughout the Cizokian underworld, and Yumika Kato did not take no for an answer.

Gardini was growing impatient--more impatient than he ever had been before. He wasn't dealing with simple riots any longer, he was dealing with his own mistakes that lead to the potential for revolution. There were many things in the world that could deal a blow to the Shogun's patience, and the worst were his own mistakes--glaring mistakes that not even a child could overlook. For this, he could feel only rage . . .