Outside, the night shifted. The ruined city groaned with its own restless life. The distant gunfire, dogs howling, the metallic scream of something dragging across pavement.
The outpost was not safe. No where in the entire zone was safe. But for now, just for tonight, they had food, a roof, and each other.
The morning came heavy.
It wasn't dawn so much as the sky thinning from pitch black to a bruised gray, the ruined city breathing fog into the air.
The outpost walls held the shadows close, cold concrete bleeding with moisture, and for a moment Yichen stood outside the infirmary door, breathing shallowly, trying to remember what mornings used to feel like before the world stank of rust and smoke.
Anya was asleep or at least pretending to be . He'd covered her again during the night when she shivered and hadn't said a word when her fingers clutched the blanket tighter, half-conscious.
