Ren carefully dismounted the bike, his legs still shaky from the exhilarating, terrifying ride. He pulled off the helmet, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears.
The air here was different, less sterile than the Faction compound, filled with the smells of cooking food, dust, and a faint, sweet scent he couldn't quite place. He heard the hum of conversation in the distance – it was a symphony of normal life, a stark contrast to the rigid order he had grown accustomed to.
"The residents?" Ren repeated, looking around with wide-eyed wonder.
The buildings, though smaller and less imposing, had a lived-in feel, painted in various shades of white and earth tones
He looked around and saw how people were bustling about, engaged in various activities – an old woman in a nurse's uniform emerged from the building beside them tending a young man's broken, wrapped wrist.
