The Wounds Of War
The world was still reeling from the aftermath of the war. Smoke no longer rose from battlefields, but its stench lingered in the minds of those who had witnessed the chaos.
Cities once brimming with life were now shadows of their former selves, their streets lined with crumbled buildings and the shattered remnants of lives disrupted by violence.
In Cambodia, a child stood barefoot on cracked pavement, staring at a towering steel structure that now dominated the skyline.
It was one of Silas Kurt's energy facilities, its gleaming panels capturing sunlight and converting it into electricity for the nearby towns.
For the boy and his family, it was more than a power plant—it was a symbol of hope, of someone who cared enough to rebuild what the war had torn apart.
Across the Atlantic, in Europe, the atmosphere was starkly different. Protests erupted in major cities, their crowds swelling with anger and frustration.