Written for the day_by_drabble challenge on LJ. Takes place after the game.
New York is devastated.
Abandoned buildings destroyed by the Ceph silently testify to the horror that that city and its people had gone through. Alcatraz questions whether or not the citizens of New York City would ever rebuild the ruins; they, along with the rest of humanity, have been shaken to the core.
Smoke is still pluming from some of the building in the Wall Street district. The FDNY have been doing their best, but no one could have been prepared for an alien invasion. There are random people walking on the street, shell-shocked and in disbelief with what had happened in the course of two days.
He understands their confusion; he feels it himself.
The information Prophet had shared with him propels him to look past his bewilderment at everything that had happened. It is time to focus on the future.
Alcatraz turns his head away from the window as he recognizes the footsteps coming from behind him.
The older man steps next to him and gazes outside. He frowns briefly before clasping him on the shoulder.
"You did everything you could, man." When Alcatraz doesn't respond, the eccentric doctor clears his throat and steps back. "Um, Tara has everything ready for your transport. You've got quite the audience waiting for you in DC, man. Just about every Head of State is going to be conferenced into your debriefing."
Alcatraz nods before he starts to make his way to the waiting helicopter, noting the destruction on the streets. He can never let this decimation happen again. As he sees Tara, sitting in the pilot's chair, he allows himself one last fleeting thought of the life he had, the family he loved, the man he was, before accepting the undeniable truth:
He is no longer Alcatraz.
He is now Prophet.