Chapter I — The Quiet Before
A leader born after midnight
The city knew every kind of noise, but it had never heard a laugh like his. Wojaker appeared beneath a dead streetlight with rain on his red coat and a smile that looked hand-drawn by fate.
He was not a king, a hero, or a promise. He was the one figure willing to walk first. Every dark window became an audience. Every puddle held a second moon. And every outsider finally had a signal to follow.
“When the city forgets the punchline, become it.”
