The remnants of the world blurred by as Kev and his group journeyed onward, every breath drawn a miracle, every step a quiet defiance against death. After weeks of relentless marching, hiding, surviving, and battling Revenants in every form imaginable, the desolate plains finally gave way to signs of human construction. Ramshackle fences formed perimeters, smoke curled from long chimneys, and the smell of food — actual cooked food — wafted into their noses like a cruel dream.
"Is this it?" Lena murmured, her voice barely audible over the wind. She narrowed her eyes toward the horizon, where a makeshift watchtower of scrap metal stood against the pale light.
"Haven," said Mara, the newest addition to their band, who had guided them with the certainty of someone who had walked this path before. Her gray cloak flapped in the breeze, and her silver eyes held no warmth. "But don't get excited yet. This is only the outer cordon."
