The world woke up unfinished.
Not broken—undefined.
Morning rolled over the dominions without prophecy to frame it. No synchronized dawn-hymns. No universal dream-echo telling people what the day was meant to bring. Just sunlight falling where it chose, touching cities that now carried contradictory yesterdays inside the same walls.
In some villages, Sunreach had won cleanly.
In others, it had “withdrawn under divine mercy.”
In still others, it had never existed at all.
People argued in the streets over what they physically remembered seeing with their own eyes.
Fathers swore they had fought beneath a mortal crown.
Sons insisted Heaven had ordered a strategic retreat.
Mothers remembered hiding from both versions at once.
Memory was no longer law.
It was disputed terrain.
At Bla
