At dawn, when the sky had only just begun to brighten, orderly footsteps, resounding chants, the clatter of wall-building drills, and the explosive crashes of blades striking one another shattered the dreams of more than half of Uruk's people.
The residents of the affected central and southern districts were used to it. They simply pulled their blankets over themselves and went back to sleep.
But the people living near the North Wall's defensive line had it rough, each one sporting a pair of panda eyes from lack of sleep.
A small number cursed as they covered their ears and burrowed back under their blankets, determined to carry their dreams through to the end no matter what.
More people, however, got up mechanically with vacant eyes and reluctantly pushed open their windows to greet the sunrise of a new day.
Then came a thunderous roar that seemed to squeeze every last breath from their lungs. It echoed and spread along the North Wall, shaking dust from the window frames of nearby homes.
"Sparta!"
"Sparta!"
Every day was like this! Those damned Spartan barbarians—would they ever stop?!
The Uruk people still trying to stay in bed had ringing ears and tears in their eyes. Unable to endure any longer, they could only crawl out of bed in a daze.
After half an hour of bustling activity, the last traces of night faded away. Countless shops and stalls opened for business, while smoke from cooking fires and the aroma of food began to spread everywhere.
In the camp beside the North Wall, a group of bare-chested, heavily muscled men gathered in light armor, armed with round shields, short swords, and spears.
Under the command of the red-haired Gate Guardian, the well-trained Uruk soldiers nimbly shifted through the formations of a Spartan phalanx, assembling