The next morning, the city of Nocturne awoke under the dim light of the morning sun, filtered through the thin black mist that always enveloped the area. The sky remained its usual grayish-purple hue, but the air felt fresher compared to the hellish night before. The rumbling sound of wooden cart wheels on stone streets, the cries of small vendors selling black bread and smoked meat, and the footsteps of citizens beginning their daily activities sounded like ordinary routine. No one knew that the riverbank outside the city walls had turned into a sea of craters and ancient blood the previous night. Or perhaps they knew, but chose not to speak of it because in Nocturne, life was about surviving, not asking questions.
