The holographic map of Earth hovering above the obsidian desk was vast, detailed, and fundamentally different from the one I had studied as a student at Mythos Academy. It was a map of a healed world, but also a crowded one.
New territories, vast swathes of land once designated as 'Black Zones' under the control of the five great dark cults, were now glowing green. The reclamation projects, spearheaded by Rose's Vakrt Corporation and the terraforming magics of the Verdanel Greenwatch refugees, had been a miracle. Land that had been poisoned for centuries was now supporting cities, farmlands, and the new, integrated communities of humanity and the Great Seven.
I zoomed out. The Moon, once a desolate watchtower, was now a glittering network of domes and orbital rings. The Cantari and Navarii, species accustomed to the void and the sky, had made it their second home, turning the grey dust into a thriving shipyard and trade hub.
It was a golden age. It was a miracle.
