A heavy silence followed Talon's declaration.
The square held its breath.
Then came a single clap.
Loud. Sharp.
It cracked through the stillness like a lightning strike.
And then another joined it. And another.
Until the dam broke.
The entire crowd erupted into thunderous applause.
But this wasn't just polite approval. It was raw. Visceral. A roar of pent-up rage, pain, and desperate relief erupting all at once. Cheers rang out from every corner of the plaza—shouts of Talon's name, cries for justice, declarations of defiance.
Some raised their hands to the sky as if praising the heavens. Others slammed fists to their chests or gripped the hands of their loved ones beside them. The noise swelled—not chaotic, but unified. A city's heartbeat thundering through cobbled streets.
For the first time in days, something stirred deep within the hearts of Iron Hearth's people.
Hope.
Not the fragile kind whispered behind locked doors.
But the kind that burned.
The kind that roared.
