Heat rises; a low-lying mist formed in the late morning as the ice and snow began to melt beneath the force of the brilliant sun. The air was silent for the first time in ages. The underground group had been suffering repeated assaults from the Cleaners above. Whispers rose in the twilight to open discussion as the refugees of Peter’s Hope wondered about the sudden change in their circumstances.
'This is your last chance, you will come out into the …light…’ the voice stumbled over the last word as he glanced up at the unsettlingly cloudless sky, '…or die now in the darkness.’ The spokesman for the cleaners finished with little real threat in his voice.