At night, she dreamed of them standing together—on a platform deep underground, the walls glowing with torchlight, a crowd gathered around them. Solace stood tall, map in one hand, a weapon in the other. She stood beside him, speaking to the people who had long forgotten what hope felt like.
Together, they weren’t just survivors. They were a spark.
A reminder that family could endure what cities could not. That beneath the rubble, something still breathed.
For now, she walked alone.
But her steps echoed with purpose.
And the tunnels—those cold, haunted halls—listened.
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