The descent toward Shinonome Dam began under a sky of bruised gray. The wind howled through the trees, carrying flecks of snow that glittered like ash. Riku led the group down the mountain path, boots crunching against frost and gravel. Behind him came Suzune, Ichika, and the small group of survivors they'd picked up—faces pale, clothes ragged, eyes hollow from days without sleep.
The path wound through what used to be a maintenance road. Bent guardrails lined the cliff's edge, twisted from landslides and age. Below, the dam stretched across the valley like a scar—massive concrete walls darkened by moss and rain, flanked by half-collapsed turbines and steel scaffolding. It was a monument to another time—when power still ran, when lights still meant civilization.
Riku slowed to a stop, scanning the view through his binoculars. "No movement," he murmured. "But I see smoke. West side, near the spillway."
Ichika adjusted her rifle strap. "Campfire or generator?"
