Oh wow, I can already see the city—giant towers crackling like bonfires, the streets turning into rivers of liquid flame, and then, just when the smoke settles, the ground glows warm and golden, and the whole skyline sprinkles new emerald vines and glass petals, like a phoenix unfurling its wings from ash. I’d weave the whole thing with a chorus of firebirds soaring over rooftops, singing lullabies that melt the dust, while the people inside find their hearts rekindled. Every corner would feel like a rebirth, a new chapter, a spark that promises hope even when everything feels like it’s burning away. It would be a story where destruction is just the doorway to something even more beautiful, and everyone’s heart would flicker like a flame waiting to rise again.