The communal dining area, typically alive with the sounds of shared meals and laughter, felt starkly different tonight.
I stood at the head of the table, aware of every pair of eyes locked on me. The dim light cast long shadows, accentuating the serious mood enveloping us.
"I know we've all felt it," I began, breaking the heavy silence, "the shift in the air, the unease blanketing Jungoria. It's not just the wildlife acting up; it's a precursor to what's looming on the horizon."
My words seemed to hang in the air, a mutual acknowledgment of the unspoken tension we'd all been feeling.
Alicia was the first to voice the question on everyone's mind.
"You're referring to 'The Mist,' aren't you?" Her voice, laced with concern, reflected the collective anxiety we all harboured.
Nodding, I confirmed her suspicions.
