The seven days that followed were a whirlwind of ash, debris, and relentless rebuilding efforts. The capital city remained awake around the clock, its streets lit by the flickering flames of pyres that burned through the first night, their smoke billowing into the sky like a dark, rising second horizon.
The death toll was estimated in the tens of thousands, with the injured numbering in the hundreds of thousands, many of them lying in makeshift hospitals set up in public squares and abandoned buildings. Everywhere, the streets echoed with the sounds of hammers striking nails, chisels carving away at damaged stone, wagons creaking under the weight of rubble, and desperate voices calling out the names of the missing loved ones amid the chaos.
