The morning sun peeked through the trees, casting long shadows across the snow-covered grounds as the survivors of the mansion prepared for a new day of work. The air was cold, but there was a warmth in the sense of purpose that had settled over the group. After the chaos of the recent attacks, George knew that expanding their home, making it more than just a fortress, was the next step in ensuring their survival.
George stood at the edge of the property, surveying the open area where the new houses would be built. He took a deep breath, his breath clouding in the cold morning air. The land sloped gently down toward the valley below, providing plenty of space to expand. With the fighters from New Haven and Reddington now fully integrated into their group, they had the manpower to make it happen.
