[: 3rd POV :]
One month had passed since the moment Daniel Valenhardt became the World Sanctum, and the world he now stood upon was no longer the same world that had once bled beneath endless invasions.
Change had not come gradually, nor gently.
It had unfolded with quiet inevitability, as though reality itself had been waiting for permission to return to a forgotten, truer form.
The lands that had once been shattered by war, scorched by divine wrath, and hollowed by abyssal breaches were whole again.
Mountains that had been cleaved in half now stood seamless, their peaks reborn with ancient majesty.
Oceans that had boiled and receded reclaimed their rightful borders, washing away scars that history had failed to erase.
Even continents, once separated by calamity and drifting epochs, had begun to move.
Not through collision, nor destruction, but through alignment.
