The Vanguard's camp was uneasy. Word of the core spread quickly, despite Matilda's efforts to keep it quiet. Whispers of its potential—its power—filled the air, mixing with the surface dwellers' growing distrust.
Tobi sat on the edge of the camp, cleaning his weapon by the dim light of a portable lantern. His mind replayed the events of the day—the glowing shard, the creatures, the surface scout watching from the shadows.
"Can't sleep?" Hannah's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
He glanced up as she approached, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of the distant ruins. "Not really."
She sat beside him, her expression as troubled as his. "Matilda's been in the comms tent for hours. Probably talking to the Council."
Tobi tensed at the mention of the Council. "What do you think they'll do?"
Hannah hesitated, then shrugged. "What they always do. Send reinforcements. Take control. Sweep us aside."