As the initial shock began to wear off, the group of displaced people started to regain some semblance of composure. The panic that had gripped them earlier was slowly being replaced by a determined urgency. They realized that standing around, staring at the rift, wouldn't solve anything. Survival was the priority now.
A man in a torn business suit stepped forward, his voice firm despite the tremor of fear still lingering in it. "We can't just stand here," he said, addressing the crowd. "We need to gather supplies. Food, water, anything that can be used. If we're going to figure out what's happening, we need to stay alive first."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. People began to nod, their expressions shifting from terror to resolve. The woman with the mole turned to her children, her voice steady. "We'll help. Stay close to me, both of you. We stick together."
