The morning was heavy with muffled voices and the hum of makeshift machinery. In the dilapidated confines of the base, a faint stench of damp concrete and rusted metal clung to everything, and the low light from scattered, flickering bulbs added to the oppressive atmosphere.
The base buzzed with activity as usual—guards patrolling the perimeters, scavengers returning with scarce finds, and the makeshift community bustling to maintain the facade of order.
"Mommy?" Leo's soft voice tugged her attention back to her room.
Zara crouched beside the bed where Leo lay, rubbing his eyes with small fists. His hair stuck up in all directions, and his cheeks were flushed from sleep.
"Yeah, baby?" she whispered, brushing his hair back.
"Is Uncle back?" Leo asked, his voice laced with sleep and curiosity.
