The storm had finally passed, leaving a blanket of fresh, sparkling snow over the landscape. The world outside the mansion seemed at peace, but inside, George and the group were far from resting. After the battles, after the close calls, it was time to take stock and rebuild. They had barely survived, and now they needed to prepare for what came next.
George walked through the halls of the mansion, his boots crunching softly on the wooden floors as he made his way toward the main room. Around him, the survivors were busy organizing supplies, repairing damage, and trying to create some semblance of normalcy in their once grand sanctuary. The mansion had been their fortress, but after the recent attacks, it was clear that it was no longer as safe as it once seemed.
They had taken a beating, but they weren't broken. Not yet.
