The morning inside Refuge Six began like many other mornings had since the fall of the world, with a strange mix of routine, fear, forced order, and silent tension that everyone had learned to live with, even though no one was ever truly comfortable with it.
The compound was already filled with movement long before the sun fully rose, with guards changing shifts, patrols rotating positions, and civilians stepping out of their quarters in quiet lines, their faces still heavy with sleep and worry as they prepared for another day under strict control.
Inside the large open compound, all the women had been gathered together, standing in rows that were not perfectly straight but organized enough to show that this place ran on structure, rules, and authority, not freedom.
