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There's a clear trail of destruction along the city, starting at a literal hole in the ground and moving towards where the over forty-five-feet-tall monster is. But even if that path is where there has been the most destruction—completely leveled buildings, melted rock and metal, a trail of ash and charred bodies—the monster clearly has reach, for a large radius around it is variously destroyed, too. Toppled buildings, people, dead or severely injured, fissures on the ground large enough to swallow trucks whole.
Several hundred feet behind the monster, much closer to the hole than to it, next to a mostly-toppled building and out of sight of anyone who might be looking but still at a place that has not been evacuated yet, an impossible three-dimensional structure manifests. It looks a lot like a hospital hallway. There's a woman with a very nice suit carrying a small unconscious girl in her arms. She doesn't step out of the hallway, and merely kneels to deposit the girl on the asphalt. She stands up, and the structure disappears, leaving no evidence of its short-lived existence other than the sleeping form, unhurt and unbothered, completely out of place in the hell that New York has become.
