The rain had eased into a steady drizzle as the night deepened, the rhythmic sound against the tents providing a fragile sense of calm.
However, the weight of unease hung thick in the air.
Athena and Mors stood just outside their shared tent, their gazes fixed on the faint glow of the remaining operational camera bots stationed around the unconscious crew.
A flicker of motion caught Mors' attention. "Someone's coming," he said, his voice low but alert.
Athena turned toward the direction of the movement. Emerging from the shadowed forest, four figures stumbled into view, their exhaustion evident in the way they carried themselves.
They were drenched and battered, their clothes torn and muddied from whatever trials they had faced to reach the site.
"Finally, some others made it," Athena murmured, relief tinged with suspicion.
Mors stepped forward, raising a hand in greeting. "Who's there?"
