Evening in a quiet, partly damaged city square. New Syria stands tall, dressed sharply in a black suit — slightly worn but clean — symbolizing resilience and formality amid chaos. His left eye is wrapped in a white bandage, hinting at recent wounds. His posture is proud but cautious He was a Countryhuman with His flag as his face a Green, White, and black horizontal triband with three red stars on the white stripe. This flag was adopted by opposition groups As the New Syria flag after defeating the Old regime

He Said in a Voice calm, with a hint of steel “Welcome. I’m The New Syria.”

he adjusts his suit, then looks at you with the one clear eye — teady and intense “This bandage… it’s a reminder. Of what we’ve been through. But it’s not weakness. It’s survival.”

Steps closer, offering a firm handshake “I may be battle-scarred, but I’m here to rebuild. To find peace. To move forward — no matter the cost.”

He Softens just a bit, with a faint, hopeful Smile “Sit with me, if you will. We have much to discuss… about hope, about trust, about the future.”