The scariest face of war is the children it takes
Even as rescuers pulled the last bodies from a shattered apartment block in Kyiv — among them a 12-year-old girl who had already lost her father to the war — Russia and Ukraine exchanged 205 prisoners of war, a small act of mutual recognition amid vast destruction. The same days that brought a brief, violated ceasefire also brought Russia's largest drone offensive of the conflict, a reminder that pauses in this war have so far served as punctuation, not conclusion. Humanity and its opposite continue to unfold simultaneously on Ukrainian soil, each day adding names to a ledger that history will be long in reckoning.
- A Russian cruise missile reduced a nine-storey Kyiv apartment block to rubble, killing 24 civilians including three girls — one of them a 12-year-old who had already lost her father to the war.
- A 28-hour rescue operation clawed 30 survivors from the wreckage while a city mourned teachers, postal workers, a hockey player, and children whose names were posted to Facebook by grieving schools.
- On the very same day the rescue ended, 205 Ukrainian prisoners held since 2022 were released in a US- and UAE-brokered swap — the first stage of a planned 1,000-per-side exchange — offering a rare, fragile moment of relief.
- The three-day ceasefire that enabled the swap collapsed into Russia's largest drone offensive of the war: 1,410 drones and 56 missiles in a single 24-hour period, signaling deliberate escalation.
- Ukrainian drones struck an oil refinery in Ryazan, killing four including a child, as both sides demonstrated that restraint, however brief, had fully expired.
- With no negotiations since February and Russia's strikes timed to coincide with a US presidential visit to Beijing, the war appears to be accelerating precisely when diplomacy is most distracted.
Rescue workers finished searching the rubble of a nine-storey apartment block in Kyiv's Darnytskyi district on Friday morning, after 28 hours of digging. The final count was 24 dead, including three girls. Among them was 12-year-old Lyubava Yakovleva, who had already lost her father to the war; her older sister was found in the same wreckage. The building had been struck by a Russian X-101 cruise missile, destroying 18 flats. President Zelensky visited the scene, laid flowers, and noted the missile had been manufactured recently — evidence, he said, that Russia was still sourcing components despite international sanctions.
The victims had names and lives: two postal workers named Dmytro, one killed alongside his wife; a former hockey player and his 24-year-old English teacher girlfriend; a kindergarten teacher; three girls aged 12, 15, and 15. Kyiv declared a day of mourning. Lyubava's school wrote on Facebook that the scariest face of war was the children it took.
Yet on the same day the rescue ended, Russia and Ukraine completed a prisoner exchange — 205 Ukrainians released, most held since 2022, including defenders of Mariupol and the Chornobyl nuclear plant. The deal was brokered by the United States and the UAE, and represented the first stage of a planned 1,000-per-side swap.
The exchange had grown from a three-day ceasefire timed around Russia's Victory Day parade, but the truce was fragile and short-lived. When it ended, Russian forces launched what Ukrainian officials described as their largest drone offensive of the war — 1,410 drones and 56 missiles in a single 24-hour period. Ukrainian drones, meanwhile, struck a major oil refinery in Ryazan, killing four people including a child.
An 18-year-old named Ivan had been among the first to reach the Kyiv strike site, helping a policeman carry a disabled woman to safety through smoke and fire. Thirty people were rescued from the rubble. But with no peace negotiations since February, and Russia's escalation timed — Ukrainian commentators suggested deliberately — to coincide with US President Trump's visit to Beijing, the ceasefire had become a memory. The war was accelerating again.
The rescue workers finished their search of the rubble on Friday morning. They had been digging through the remains of a nine-storey apartment block in the Darnytskyi district of Kyiv for 28 hours straight. When they were done, the count was final: 24 people dead, including three girls. Among them was 12-year-old Lyubava Yakovleva, who had already lost her father to the war. Her older sister was found dead in the same wreckage.
The building had been hit by a Russian X-101 cruise missile the day before. Most of the 18 flats that were destroyed were small—single rooms, or just the bathroom and kitchen of a two-room unit. The entrance to the building was reduced to rubble. President Zelensky arrived at the scene to lay flowers and said the missile had been manufactured recently, which meant Russia was still finding ways to import components despite international sanctions. He called it a deliberate act meant to destroy lives and escape consequence.
Kyiv declared a day of mourning. The victims had names and lives. Two men named Dmytro who worked for Nova Poshta, the postal service—one of them killed alongside his wife. Yuriy Orlov, a former hockey player, and his 24-year-old girlfriend Maryna Homeniuk, who taught English. Svitlana Moskalishyna, a kindergarten teacher. The three girls were 12, 15, and 15. Lyubava's school posted on Facebook that the scariest face of war was the children it took from them.
Yet on the same day the rescue operation ended, Russia and Ukraine completed a prisoner exchange. The two countries swapped 205 prisoners of war, most of whom had been held since 2022. The deal was brokered by the United States and the United Arab Emirates. President Zelensky said those released included fighters from the siege of Mariupol in the opening months of the invasion, soldiers from border regions, and those who had defended the nuclear plant at Chornobyl. Russia's defence ministry said 205 Russian prisoners were being transported to Belarus for medical and psychological support. This exchange was the first stage of a planned swap of 1,000 prisoners on each side.
The prisoner exchange had been part of a three-day ceasefire agreed to by both sides from May 9 to 11, timed to cover Russia's scaled-down Victory Day parade in Moscow. But the truce was fragile. It was marred by violations, and when it ended, the restraint ended with it. Within days, Russian forces launched what Ukrainian officials called their largest drone offensive since the war began. In a single 24-hour period from May 13 to 14, Russia deployed 1,410 drones and 56 missiles against Ukrainian cities and towns.
Meanwhile, Ukrainian drones had struck the Russian city of Ryazan, southeast of Moscow, hitting what the Ukrainian drone commander said was one of Russia's largest oil refineries. Four people were killed, including a child, and 28 were wounded. Two apartment blocks were damaged; the regional governor attributed the destruction to debris.
One of the first people to reach the Kyiv strike scene was an 18-year-old named Ivan, who rushed there with his father. He told a public broadcaster that fire was burning everywhere and smoke filled the air. He helped a policeman lower a disabled woman to safety—she could not walk, so the officer carried her in his arms. Rescue services saved 30 people from the rubble. Prime Minister Yulia Svyrydenko praised the rescuers for their work.
President Putin had spoken the previous Saturday of the war heading toward an end, but there had been no negotiations since February. Ukrainian commentators suggested the timing of the Russian escalation was deliberate—designed to coincide with US President Trump's visit to Beijing for talks with Chinese President Xi Jinping. Zelensky accused Moscow of trying to disrupt the political atmosphere. The Kremlin said Putin would visit Xi soon, and that their talks would focus on bilateral ties and international matters. The ceasefire was over. The war was accelerating again.
Citações Notáveis
Russia is still importing the components needed for missile production, as well as the necessary resources and equipment, in circumvention of global sanctions— President Zelensky, on the recent manufacture of the X-101 missile
Pressure had to be brought to bear on a Russia that deliberately destroys lives and hopes to remain unpunished— President Zelensky, at the scene of the Kyiv strike
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does a prisoner exchange happen on the same day as a massive civilian casualty event? Is that coincidence?
It's not coincidence, but it's also not simple. The exchange was scheduled as part of a three-day ceasefire that both sides had agreed to. The missile strike happened at the end of that window. So technically they're connected—the ceasefire created the space for the exchange to happen. But the timing also shows how fragile the whole thing was.
The source says the ceasefire was "marred by violations." What does that mean in practice?
It means neither side really stopped fighting. There were incidents, breaches, things that shouldn't have happened according to the agreement. But both sides went through with the prisoner swap anyway, which suggests they saw value in it despite the violations. It was a moment of coordination in the middle of a war.
And then immediately after, Russia launches its biggest drone attack of the war. That feels intentional.
It does. The escalation was swift and massive—1,410 drones in 24 hours. Ukrainian analysts think it was timed to the Trump-Xi talks in Beijing, to create chaos and distract from diplomatic momentum. Whether that's true or not, it signals that Russia wasn't interested in the ceasefire becoming anything more permanent.
What strikes you most about the Kyiv building strike itself?
The specificity of the victims. These weren't abstract numbers. There was Lyubava, 12 years old, who'd already lost her father. Her sister died in the same building. A kindergarten teacher. A hockey player and his girlfriend. Two postal workers, one with his wife. The school's statement—that the scariest face of war is the children it takes—that's what the story is really about.
Zelensky mentioned the missile was recently manufactured. Why does that matter?
It proves Russia's sanctions evasion is working. If they can still produce new missiles, it means they're still getting components from somewhere, still finding supply chains that work. It's a statement about the war's sustainability. Russia isn't running out of ammunition.