Han returned on the fifth day to controlled chaos.
Not the bad kind of chaos. The "everyone is doing something but nobody knows if they're doing it right" kind. The Shadow Legion was packing. Preparing. Getting ready to move with the coordination of caffeinated squirrels organizing a library.
Qiu was taking inventory. Again. For the seventh time. Each count produced different numbers and increasing anxiety.
The twins were dismantling the makeshift shelters. One of them was doing it carefully. The other was just hitting things until they fell over. Hunter had stopped trying to figure out which twin was which.
Chen Lao was organizing food supplies into categories that made sense only to him. "Perishable but edible." "Perishable and questionable." "Already perished, why do we still have this."
Mei was supervising. A seven year old with her arms crossed, watching adults work, occasionally pointing out inefficiencies with the brutal honesty only children possessed.
