New Earth

"Haaa…"

The faint hum of a generator and the distant sound of murmured voices pulled Rey back into consciousness. His body felt heavy, as though it had been dragged through the depths of exhaustion and left to rot. 

He stirred, the coarse texture of a tattered blanket rubbing against his skin.

He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, dimly lit by a flickering bulb. The air was damp, carrying the scent of rust and mildew, and his head throbbed faintly as he tried to piece together where he was.

"You're awake," a calm but cautious voice said.

Rey turned his head, meeting the gaze of a young man standing a few feet away. 

He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with messy brown hair and dark circles under his eyes, as if sleep was a luxury he hadn't had in ages. His clothes were worn but functional, a mishmash of patched fabric and reinforced leather that suggested both practicality and survival.