Talia woke to the unfamiliar sensation of… restfulness.
No screaming wind, no rattling canvas. Just a low, distant rumble humming through the stone, like the mountain itself had a heartbeat.
Storm Day 2 had begun.
She pulled on boots and stepped into the corridor, immediately greeted by the scent of ration stew drifting from the first-floor kitchen alcove. Theo was already there, hunched over three ledgers spread in a defensive arc around his breakfast bowl like they might riot if left unattended.
Talia scraped out a stool and dropped into it. "Morning."
"For some of us," Theo muttered without looking up. His hair stuck out at a defeated angle.
She accepted the steaming bowl handed to her—thick broth, root vegetables boiled into soft exhaustion, slivers of smoked meat floating like weary survivors.
"How are stocks?" she asked, blowing on her spoonful.
Theo picked up a pen, "The farming district is doing everything it reasonably can. But preservation is a choke point. Limited salt, only so many barrels and only so many hands."
He tapped the next list. "Firewood's good. Enough to run the smokehouse constantly. But meat still takes time to cure. And greens…"
"Are greens," Dad chimed behind them, sliding onto the bench with exaggerated fatigue. "Can't exactly sun-dry anything in a lightning apocalypse."
A round of exhausted eye-rolls followed.
"For now," Theo continued, "barbecue, stew, broth. Rotation as evenly as possible."
Talia nodded. "We'll manage."
She swallowed another spoonful, letting the warmth spread down her throat, then glanced across the hall where Grandma Elene and Auntie Junia were rearranging blankets and storage crates into what suspiciously looked like improvised "tour groups."
That gave her an idea.
"When you two finish there," she called over, "can you take small groups to the farming district? And the animal pens."
Grandma lifted a brow. "Tours? During a storm?"
Talia shrugged. "People need something to look forward to. Let them see that something is thriving. The animals help with stress."
Auntie Junia's grin grew mischievous. "I can make that work."
Theo, without looking up, muttered, "Nothing else going for them. They can pay in comfort."
Grandma smacked the back of his head lightly on her way past. "Optimism is free, boy."
The storm boomed distantly against the mountain as Talia stepped back into the husbandry district, damp air sneaking through the ventilation shafts. The stone beneath her feet vibrated faintly with each distant thunderclap, like the world outside was pacing.
She placed both palms on the unfinished wall.
Time to work.
Her focus narrowed.
Tap. Push.
Tap. Push.
Tap—stone rose beneath her palms, smoothing into the crisp lines she visualised.
Push—frameworks thickened, weight distributed, floors locking into place.
Minutes bled into hours.
Somewhere behind her, voices drifted.
"…look at that ceiling height—"
"…imagine what we can build in here—"
"…I swear she just wills stone into moulding for her—"
She blinked and glanced over her shoulder. A tour group, led by her mother.
Of course.
"And here," Mum said proudly, gesturing toward Talia like she was a permanent exhibit, "we have our Lord shaping more play area for the animals."
The tourists—twelve of them—stared at Talia with round eyes like children who had just witnessed fire for the first time.
Talia lifted one hand awkwardly in greeting. "Ah… hello."
They applauded.
Full applause.
She froze. "Um."
Before she could escape, a second group arrived.
Then a third.
By the time a fourth threatened to gather, Dav marched in, grabbed her by the wrist, and hauled her toward the bunker with the force of a fed-up shepherd dog.
"You," he said, pointing at the chair, "are grounded."
Talia sputtered. "You can't ground me. I'm the Lord."
Dav crossed his arms. "You fainted yesterday. If you faint again in front of these people, we will spend the rest of our natural lives calling you 'Saint Talia of the Magic Walls.' Sit."
She flopped onto the bench like a sulky teenager. "Two hours?"
"Two hours," Dav confirmed.
She drank the water someone pressed into her hands while the chatter of excited tour-goers drifted around her.
"Those work buildings are huge."
"Did you see the cute bush chicken statue outside the farm?"
"That dummy in the rabbit yard is cracked again, those stone rabbits are insane."
Despite everything, a small smile twitched at her lips. The settlement was adapting, slowly.
She opened her Territory panel absently—
—and went cold.
A sharp, hollow feeling hit her chest.
She stood up so fast the bench jerked.
Theo's head snapped toward her immediately, eyes narrowing when he saw her expression.
"Office," she mouthed.
Dav followed, already tense.
Inside the small planning office, she shut the door quietly.
"What's wrong?" Dav asked, voice low.
Talia looked at Theo. "Check the inventory against your last record."
Theo's pupils constricted. He brought up his panel.
Three seconds passed.
Then two more.
Theo swore viciously. "F**k."
His palm slammed onto the table, the temperature around him dropping like a plummeting barometer.
Dav stiffened. "What was taken?"
"Beast shards," Theo grated. "Nothing else would make sense. Inventory shows deletions, it had to be within the last two hours but the storage room is sealed. Only five people have access, so someone got past our barriers."
"My watcher—she has eyes on him," Dav said. "She's collecting clean evidence, enough to convince the public."
Talia leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes.
Three breaths.
Four.
Her mind sorted through threads like a loom—tightening, weaving, discarding, tightening again.
Theo and Dav waited in utter silence.
Finally she opened her eyes.
"We need to change the way we govern," she said quietly. "Slowly, but decisively."
Theo straightened. "Meaning?"
"Look at yesterday," she said. "Beasts in this world were nearly unbothered by the storm's approach. They're brutal, resilient. This environment rewards strength—physical, mental and societal."
Her jaw tightened. "Right now everything runs through us. Me, you, Grandma—a handful of people holding a hundred jobs. The rest of the Clan… are slipping back into Earth patterns, divisions, selfishness, testing boundaries, because we made them feel safe enough to soften."
Dav's mouth tightened, but he didn't deny it.
"This storm will scare them," Talia continued. "Shake them, and that gives us a window. A chance to reshape our structure before larger problems form."
Theo nodded slowly. "So what's your proposal?"
"First," she said, "we stop being fragments. We become one clan, one identity. No nomads and core. No old groupings. We are the Deepway Clan, starting today."
Dav hummed in agreement.
"Next—we build a Clan Code of Conduct. Place a slate in the bunker, people can add suggestions, and the council votes on it. Rules that people write themselves are more likely to be followed."
Theo jotted notes. "Oath ceremony?"
Talia nodded. "Eventually. As a rite of passage. Not now, though—I want to build the sixth floor first."
She drew in a heavier breath.
"Sabotage of core clan systems," she continued, "or deliberate harm to the Clan becomes a capital crime. Only intentional acts, not mistakes."
Dav's eyes darkened, but his approval was clear.
"Trial by council," she added. "Reason only, never emotion."
Theo nodded once, firm. "We need a system and leadership for that. Cael?"
"He becomes head of the Department of Justice," Talia said, her gaze flickering between them. "He'll need clerks, mediators, guards. People whose job is to judge the evidence fairly."
Theo underlined something on his page. "Then we mirror that for everything else."
"We stop treating work like favors and start treating it like a structure," Talia said. "Departments and clear branches. If we start now and have the foundations laid when the next issue strikes, the necessary departments can handle it without us having to micromanage everything." She exhaled. "We can't keep pretending three people can run a city."
Theo's pen stalled. "Which departments… and who's to run them?"
"Admin, Defence, Justice, Intelligence, Research, Education, Medicine, Food, Beasts, Culture, Trade, Entertainment, Crafts, Labour and Planning," she said. "Call the leaders, division heads or Sentinels as hinted by the system, I don't care. For now, we start by assigning the work, titles can come later."
Dav snorted. "You already have people in mind."
"Some," she admitted. "The census revealed some hidden talent. I'm sure you have the same ones targeted, Theo."
The corner of his mouth just twitched in response, remembering that day.
Talia lifted another finger.
"Third: training. A mandatory two hours a day for everyone, kids included. Survival in this world requires stamina and knowledge."
Dav grunted. "They'll mutiny if we force combat."
"Then we won't," Talia said. "They choose: combat, survival, or general fitness training. I'd like to add mountaineering later once we have stable trails."
Theo's pen scratched again.
"Fourth—labour rotations. No idle adults, six-hour shifts tied to the departments. Morning block, afternoon block, everyone knows where they report to. Hunters go under Food, builders under Labour, crafters to the Craft Hall. Those who can't fight or haul still work—childcare, kitchens, cleaning, record-keeping. All paid with Contribution Points as wages."
Theo's shoulders eased, like something that had been coiled in his chest finally found a shape. "If we slot the idle workforce into rotations, I can stop patching rosters every day."
"And Contribution Points," he added, almost hungrily. "We anchor all this to an internal currency. Basic work earns a base rate. Dangerous or skilled work earns more. Extra hours, extra shifts, extra points. We can tie housing, extra holidays, and luxury items to that."
Talia grinned faintly. "I might have a stash of Earth luxury items we can use as rewards."
Dav snorted. "Of course you do. Since when have you been planning all this?"
"From when people began to recover," Talia replied. "There are too many of us to start small, and we decided to keep the nomad teams, so I thought this type of issue would pop up. I was originally going to introduce it once the housing had been built."
"Anyway, continuing on. Fifth," Talia resumed, "we create Deepwatch. Not just 'Dav's watcher' lurking in the shadows. Slotted into the intelligence department. They don't arrest, they don't punish. They observe, investigate, warn—both inside and outside the Clan."
Theo's brows rose. "Intelligence for prevention, Justice for judgement and Defence for protection."
"Exactly," Talia said. "If Deepwatch does their job, Cael's trials are rare and we know where the enemy comes from next."
"Collie will love that," Dav muttered, giving Talia the look of a man watching his people get stolen one by one. "She gets a badge for doing what she was already doing."
"Sixth," she said, guiltily moving on,"we start school now. The bunker will work until the third-floor classrooms are done. Grandma and Brielle can set the framework."
Silence settled as the three absorbed the weight of change.
"Laws, departments, training, labour rotations, Deepwatch, and school," Theo recited it like a spell, eyes distant, thinking of all the work to come. "It's a full restructure."
"It's survival," Talia said softly. "If we don't do this now, we'll still be arguing about whose job it is when the next storm hits—or the next threat."
Dav exhaled. "You want to announce all this at once?"
Talia shook her head. "No. Tonight we bring the council and representatives together. We present the foundations. Let them argue through the details with us, adjust phrasing, and add what we missed. If we give them a skeleton, they'll help fill it out."
"And the rest of the Clan?" Theo asked.
Talia rose, the decision sitting solidly in her chest.
"I thought that once the storms are over, but the clean-up will be busy. The day after, or as soon as it's done," she said. "We hold our first proper Clan Council then with all in attendance, new departments and all. We show them the new Code after the vote. The new departments, the training plans and labour rotations. Make it public and transparent, then answer the questions and ask for Clan input. They need to feel like this is something we're building with them, not at them."
She touched Theo's shoulder gently. "Start drafting the departments and where our current people fit. I want names—not just family. Pull from the nomads too."
He gave a single sharp nod. "I've been mentally sorting them for days."
She looked back at Theo. "Call a meeting tonight, before the storm breaks."
He gave a second, sharper nod.
Talia stepped back toward the door, feeling the mountain's faint vibration under her boots.
"A fresh start after a storm passes. Quite poetic." She left the office to her brothers with identical wry expressions on their faces.
Talia exhaled a slow breath.
A storm outside.
A storm inside.
And after both passed—
A different Deepway would remain.