The next few days were a blur of adjustment for Rey.
He remained in the shelter, a fortified underground structure with thick steel doors, reinforced walls, and sparse but functional accommodations. It was a bleak space carved out of an abandoned subway station, illuminated by dim, makeshift lighting powered by salvaged generators.
The air was constantly heavy with tension and the scent of oil and damp concrete.
The small group living there—nine people in total—seemed to have carved out a semblance of order amid the chaos that had overtaken Earth. Rey was under close watch, especially by Josh, the gruff man who seemed to have appointed himself Rey's personal shadow.
Josh didn't bother hiding his distrust.
Wherever Rey went, Josh followed, his sharp eyes taking in every move.