The morning sun cast a warm golden hue across New Haven, its rays filtering through the trees and reflecting off the fortified walls that surrounded the growing community. Despite the looming dangers that constantly threatened them, today felt almost peaceful. Birds chirped in the distance, and the hum of daily activity echoed from the farms, greenhouses, and makeshift workshops.
George stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching as the last of the supply team gathered near the gate. Today's mission was a routine supply run to Reddington, a town to the west that had been partially destroyed months ago. It was a simple mission, meant to gather food, medicine, and any salvageable fuel from the remains of the city. Or at least, it should have been simple.
