After seven additional years - In the year four hundred ten after the coronation - The day unfolded much like every other morning on the world of Nihari. In a remote region devoid of human presence, the landscape stretched wide with towering highlands, deep ridges, and countless pools gathered from centuries of rainfall. The air carried the scent of damp earth and wild greenery. The area was alive with a scattering of small animals, skittering lizards, buzzing insects, and clusters of trees of many species, some with twisted trunks, others blooming with rare flowers. Yet Nihari was not always this tranquil. After the catastrophic War of Nihari over four hundred years ago, a conflict so devastating that it consumed more than ninety percent of the planet's population, the world had become largely empty. Even when it was later seized and declared a stronghold of the Third Army, eventually becoming an active cornerstone of the empire, Nihari's sheer immensity made it impossible to fully inhabit. To this day, no more than a single percent of the planet was actually lived in, leaving the rest barren, wild, and haunted by history. But this particular region was unusual, carrying an eerie uniqueness. At this very moment, not a single sound could be heard. It was as if the concept of sound itself had been erased from existence - no rustling of leaves, no buzzing of insects, not even the faint whistle of the wind. Everything was muted. The silence was so profound that it felt unnatural, oppressive, as though the entire world was holding its breath. Then, suddenly, that silence was broken - "Buk. buk buk buk." A bizarre rooster, its form strangely feline with a body that seemed to carry traces of catlike lineage, scuttled up one of the tallest trees in the region. Its talons scraped the bark as it climbed, and once at the top, it puffed its chest, inhaled deeply, and prepared to crow.
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