(3rd Person POV)
As dusk crept over the sanctuary, casting long shadows and painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the community hall transformed into a beacon of light, drawing in its inhabitants like moths to a flame.
The atmosphere was thick with a mix of curiosity and solemnity, a stark contrast to the usual warmth that filled the space.
Luke, standing at the heart of the hall, was acutely aware of the weight of his words yet to come, the responsibility resting squarely on his shoulders.
As he commenced his address, his voice was both a balm and a blade—soothing yet cutting through the veil of uncertainty that had shrouded the community since the arrival of The Mist.
With every sentence, he unwrapped the layers of bloodline integration, treating the topic with the reverence it deserved.
