When morning came, several villagers finally opened their eyes. They looked around in confusion, realizing they were inside the only hospital in the entire village.
The smell of disinfectant lingered in the cramped ward. A few of them tried to sit up but winced as their bodies protested, still stiff from the cold night that almost killed them.
Seamus, Dylan, and X had been tending to them all night. They teleported the survivors here one by one, wrapping their bodies in thick cocoons to keep the hypothermia from claiming them.
Dylan even repaired the ruined heater with shaking hands, turning the freezing building into a fragile pocket of warmth.
It had been a brutal, endless night. Three exhausted people caring for thirty barely breathing survivors, while the rest had already slipped away.
The silence that followed death never got easier, not even for the three of them.
"Where am I? How did I end up here?" a man whispered as he struggled to sit up.
