(3RD Person POV)
Luke sat alone as twilight embraced the sanctuary, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting shadows that danced across the walls like silent spectres of the past.
He pondered the journey that had brought them to this precipice, the eve of an encounter with the unknown, with "The Mist" that lingered just beyond their reach, threatening to engulf everything they had built.
Each word he penned was a testament to the trials they had endured, the battles fought not just against the tangible threats that lurked outside their walls, but against the intangible foes of despair and division that had threatened to unravel the very fabric of their community.
He wrote of the dark days, the losses that had seemed insurmountable, the moments when hope was but a flickering flame in the howling winds of adversity.
