BUY THE BOOK

BEFORE THE WAR WAS NAMED, BEFORE THE LINES WERE DRAWN—THERE WAS A CHOICE.

THE CITY HAD NOT LEARNED HOW TO SLEEP

Smoke lingered above the rooftops, unmoving, as if even the air were holding its breath. Somewhere beyond the eastern wall, a bell rang once—too early, too deliberate—and then fell silent.

No one spoke. No one needed to.

This was how it always began: not with blood, not with fire, but with the quiet understanding that something irreversible had already been set in motion.

By the time the first signal reached the square, it was already too late to turn back.