The city did not return to normal.

It pretended to.

That was worse.

By midmorning, the streets were moving again with something that looked like confidence. Shops reopened their shutters with deliberate slowness, merchants arranging goods as though routine itself might anchor the day. Guards resumed patrols, boots striking stone in familiar rhythms, their armor polished to a ceremonial gleam. Bells rang—not alarms, not summons, but the ordinary marking of hours, their notes drifting across ...