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A light so bright her glasses turned silver. The heat wave raced past her. Seen through the feed from one of her escort's cameras, the dry grass flashed into flame and was gone. Her robe and scarf smouldered, but didn't ignite; their heat-proof fabric protecting her skin.
The light faded and her goggles returned to normal sunlight filters. The city was gone, replaced by a roiling mass of fire and smoke. She could just make out the hemisphere of the pressure wave as it subtly refracted the light from the landscape and sky behind. Where it met the ground, it picked up clouds of dust. It advanced, ever expanding, engulfing everything it met. An isolated building, a farmstead perhaps, was hit. She saw the roof tiles scattered and the walls explode, timber tumbling end over end, a chair splintered, clothes ripped to shreds, the whole building reduced to shrapnel in a fraction of a second. It was getting closer but she couldn't look away, couldn't move. She drank in everything, holding the sights in her mind and saving them. Every piece of debris, every animal caught by the wall of dust. Everything was slowing down. She was sinking, lost in the details. The dust was hardly moving, her processors were enhancing each grain. A bead of sweat was frozen on her forehead.
There was a hard pain in her ribs and the world spun around her. She tumbled down the slope of the hill in the embrace of one of her escorts. They came to a stop as other members of her party piled on top of them. Parts of her brain felt like they were on fire as she curled up under the mound of metal and ceramic armour.
She heard the roar of the pressure wave as it hit. Dust was forced between her escorts, and the air was ripped from her lungs. The weight on her was definitely less now, some of her escort presumably blown away.
Silence. Calm. Nothing moved.
The wind started to pick up again. A gentle breeze at first, then a whistle, then a gale, as the air rushed back in towards the site of the explosion.
Overpressure then underpressure.