Adam couldn't remember exactly when the war had ended, and the reconstruction had begun.
No clear turning point marked the changes.
One day, he was leading men on a battlefield, and the next, he found himself sitting at a desk covered with documents, numbers, and decisions that weighed heavier than any sword.
The papers piled up in no apparent order.
The city of Arkham was still standing, yes, but it was an incomplete shell, held up more by inertia than by any real stability.
Several areas remained half-repaired.
And now, everything depended on him.
There was no one else making decisions.
The first few days were a silent chaos, not for lack of action, but because of an overload of problems.
Each issue seemed to lead to another.
Destroyed streets, collapsed homes, an erratic food supply, outbreaks of disease beginning to form in the hardest-hit areas… and, above all, a lack of money.
None of these problems could be ignored.
Always money.
