The days passed without incident. The peak of summer was slowly beginning to fade, although the heat remained just as unbearable. The air was heavy and dense, as if even the atmosphere itself was resisting movement.
In the big city of San Martín, life continued without incident. The daily hustle and bustle filled the streets, the markets opened with the same routine, and caravans came and went under the scorching sun.
Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening. For most, it was just another cycle, identical to the previous one.
However, beneath that facade of normality, the silence weighed its own.
The city remained the same, yes, but only in appearance. No significant event had occurred in full view of the masses. Even so, in the corners where the sun's gaze did not reach, the threads of power slowly tightened.
Unless one belonged to those who knew the shadows of San Martín, one would never notice that the change had already begun.
