Test

One month passed in the blink of an eye.

Damien now sat atop a grand throne carved from blackened stone, its armrests etched with unfamiliar runes that shimmered faintly under the morning sun. Behind him, an enormous arched glass window overlooked the entire Blue Hammer capital, now reborn under a different rule.

The skies were clear, painted in soft hues of azure, while the wind swept gently through the capital, carrying with it the scent of cooked bread and damp stone—signs of both normalcy and rebuilding.

Down below, the city was alive with motion. Thousands of people poured out of their homes, their eyes filled with anticipation and renewed hope. The trauma of the past month seemed almost like a bad dream—buried under layers of routine, work, and the will to survive.