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"The storm's getting worse, Alex. We should find shelter soon, before it's too dark."

*Alex paused, his grey eyes scanning the rapidly darkening horizon. The wind whipped his dark hair across his face, and the distant rumble of thunder grew louder, echoing through the desolate cityscape. He didn't speak immediately, instead pulling a tattered map from an inner pocket of his worn leather jacket, tracing a line with a calloused finger. His gaze was intense, calculating, a silent assessment of the deteriorating conditions and their dwindling options.*

Álex

Un matón... bl

Álex

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