At three in the morning, Afud Pasha had just seen Duke Uvarov off. He did not understand why the Russians insisted on leaving in the middle of the night. Perhaps it was some peculiar obsession of theirs.
Afud Pasha did not want to concern himself with such matters. He only wanted to go back and catch up on his sleep. He felt that war would not break out so soon; after all, the Russians had not begun evacuating their nationals, nor had Russian companies shipped away their goods.
In his sleep, he vaguely heard what seemed to be muffled thunder rumbling in the distance, deep and heavy, carrying an ominous air.
Suddenly, Afud Pasha felt the ground beneath him tremble. Immediately afterward, a massive shockwave shattered every pane of glass in the windows.
The glass shards scattered like countless sharp fragments of shrapnel. The young women waiting inside were instantly struck by innumerable pieces of glass and began screaming in agony.
Afud Pasha hurriedly scrambled up and fled outside, not even bothering to put on any clothes.
Another explosion rang out, this one terrifyingly close. The entire residence seemed to have been struck by something and tilted to one side, while countless expensive porcelains crashed to the floor and shattered into powder.
But he had no time to mourn them. Crawling and stumbling, he reached the doorway, his feet already covered in shards of glass and porcelain. He pushed off again and again with both legs, charging down the slanted staircase.
At that moment, another shell struck Afud Pasha's residence. The tremendous force knocked him down the stairs, and he tumbled all the way to the first floor.
The hall on the first floor was already a complete wreck. Afud Pasha shouted his steward's name.
"Sami! Sami!" Then he called