Dawn in Lamping Village did not begin with the blaring of a phone alarm or the industrial drone of a distant factory. Instead, the morning was ushered in by the call of the Gallus-Aureum—a golden-feathered fowl endemic to northern Verdia, whose crowing resonated through the valley like the rhythmic striking of silver bells.
Dayat woke on a woven pandan mat, its earthy, herbal scent acting as a natural balm for his frayed nerves. He stretched his limbs, feeling a dull, honest ache in his back. This wasn't the searing agony of the Nura-Scourge or the violent pressure of an overcharged Mana-Circuit; it was the simple, human soreness of sleeping on a hard, unyielding surface. To Dayat, this ache was a luxury—a reminder that he was still alive and breathing outside of a stone cell.
