(Narrator : Jane) [Intro] The war had no single front, no line the children could draw. Some cities kept their windows lit; some forgot the use of dawn. Augustus promised order. Helena promised time. Each morning, those still breathing counted what was left behind. [Verse 1] A shopkeeper covered his windows; by morning, the shelves were bare. A woman watched her savings vanish, though she’d paid her share. A neighbor named another neighbor, with no proof and trembling hands. One family left the building; no one asked where they had gone. The courts still opened in the morning, the police still came when they could, but fear ran faster than protection through the neighborhood. [Chorus] We are here, we are alive, holding what the flames let by. If you hear us, say our names; we are more than someone’s blame. We are here. Don’t turn away. We were living yesterday. [Verse 2] The hospital halls were crowded; the wounded slept against the wall. A nurse worked through the morning, too tired to answer every call. A woman came in after violence, flinched at the closing door. The doctor listened quietly and asked her nothing more. A father kept his daughter’s picture; her chair stayed by his own. A boy feared thunder overhead; he’d learned that fear at home. [Chorus] We are here, we are alive, holding what the flames let by. If you hear us, say our names; we are more than someone’s blame. We are here. Don’t turn away. We were living yesterday. [Verse 3] At three, the power failed again; the backup cells ran low. Samuel crossed the damaged district where small fires marked the road. He knew the wires, he knew the load; he brought the hospital back. Behind the glass, a child kept breathing; a surgeon whispered, “Time.” He called his family. The terminal would not accept his name: “Identity closed. Death confirmed.” He tried. The answer stayed the same. [Bridge] The nurse stood close beside him, showed the work his hands had done. The officer said, “I know you’re here, but I can’t undo what’s begun.” Eleven times the papers came back, eleven times the same mistake. He looked down at his living hands: “If I am dead, whose life did I save?” [Instrumental] [Verse 4] I found an order signed by Augustus, an older mark beneath the seal. The world knew one face in the window; I knew what the pages could reveal. Aimé, erased from my own life, ruled through the body they shared. The record named a single ruler, not the mind that had been there. I kept the page. I called Carole. Gyu-Young would test what could be known. No accusation, not this morning. The war was moving on. [Final Chorus] We are here, we are alive, holding what the flames let by. If you hear us, say our names; we are more than someone’s blame. We are here. Don’t turn away. We were living yesterday. We are here—say our names. We are here. Don’t turn away. [Outro] The hospital lights stayed on. Samuel walked into the morning, alive to everyone who saw him, dead to every door he tried. Somewhere, someone waited for him. “If I am dead,” he asked the day, “whose life did I save?”
