Chapter 111 A World Gone Quiet

• The silence came first.
• Not the kind born of peace, nor the gentle hush that followed snowfall during the early days of the Blizzard—but a deeper, heavier quiet, as if the world itself had drawn a long breath and forgotten how to exhale.
• Lucy stood at the threshold of the shelter’s upper exit, boots planted in snow that had long since hardened into uneven ridges and ice-glazed drifts. Above her, the sky remained dark—still endless night—but it was different now. Thinner. Less oppressive. The blackness no longer pressed down like a lid sealed tight over the world. Instead, it hung loosely, frayed at the edges, as if something behind it was pushing back.