In the days that followed, Jack observed the people of Refuge with a growing sense of unease. They moved about their routines with quiet determination, maintaining gardens, bartering goods, and repairing tools. But Jack noticed signs that things weren’t as peaceful as they seemed. He saw the tension in the residents’ faces, the sidelong glances, and the occasional arguments that broke out over seemingly minor issues.

When he asked around, he learned that Refuge was led by a council—a group of long-time residents who managed its resources and enforced its rules. While the council kept things running, Jack could sense a certain complacency, especially among some of the council members who seemed content to rest on the security of their walls. But Jack knew better; he’d seen what happened when people got too comfortable.

After much persistence, he managed to arrange a meeting with one of the council members, a tall, wiry man named Marcus with a carefully maintained gray beard and a sharp, pragmatic gaze. Marcus regarded Jack with a thin smile as he took a seat across from him in the council’s meeting room, which was sparsely decorated but orderly, with neatly stacked papers and a dusty map of the surrounding area pinned to the wall.

“So, you wanted to talk about Refuge’s safety?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve heard you’ve had a tough go of it out there. But don’t worry—these walls have kept us safe for years.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone steady. “I’m sure they have, but what I’m talking about isn’t just another raid. Magnus and the Sanctified are different. They don’t just take what they want and leave—they occupy. They break people down, make them believe they have no other choice.”

Marcus sighed, leaning back in his chair, his expression shifting from polite interest to barely concealed impatience. “Mr. Carson, we’re all familiar with the wasteland’s dangers. But Refuge is resilient. We’ve handled threats before. Raiders, the occasional lunatic who thinks they can march in here and take over. We’re still standing.”

Jack leaned forward, his eyes hard. “With respect, I don’t think you understand what Magnus is capable of. He doesn’t just send raiders. He builds loyalty by tearing people apart and remaking them in his image. He’s got a whole following out there, people who would die for him because he’s twisted them into thinking he’s some kind of prophet.”

Marcus shook his head, offering a dismissive smile. “You’re talking about a man with a cult, not an army. And from what I’ve seen, Refuge has survived worse.”

Jack clenched his fists, feeling frustration rise. “Listen, I’ve seen what he does to the places he takes. He sends people ahead, scouts or sympathizers, to break down trust and sow chaos from within. Then he moves in with enough force to crush any remaining resistance. I’m not asking you to tear down Refuge—I’m asking you to keep your guard up.”

Marcus’s smile faded, and he looked at Jack with a cold, scrutinizing gaze. “Mr. Carson, I respect that you’ve been through a lot. But we’re well-equipped here. We have guards, defenses, and a council that knows how to keep this place safe. I think your concerns are more about the trauma of living out there than about any real threat inside these walls.”

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Jack’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he forced himself to remain calm. “With all due respect, it’s not just paranoia. I want to see this place stand. You’re one of the last places that has a chance.”

Marcus rose, signaling that the conversation was over. “I appreciate the warning, Mr. Carson. But I assure you, Refuge can take care of itself. I suggest you focus on settling in, rather than worrying about things that are well under control.”

Jack watched as Marcus left the room, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. It was like talking to a wall. He wanted to protect Refuge, to help it stay strong, but he couldn’t force people to see a threat they didn’t believe in.

He stepped outside, still feeling the sting of the council’s dismissal, and headed toward the tobacco patch near the outskirts of Refuge. The sight of the green leaves brought a small sense of comfort, and he lit one of the cigarettes he’d traded for, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke calm his frayed nerves.

As he exhaled, the familiar farmer from earlier appeared, giving Jack a knowing look. “Didn’t go too well with the council, huh?”

Jack let out a humorless laugh. “You could say that. Guess they think I’m just another paranoid outsider.”

The farmer leaned against the fence, his face etched with understanding. “You’re not the first to come in here with warnings. They think that once they’re behind these walls, nothing can touch them. But those of us out here, the ones keeping the food and the supplies coming? We know things aren’t that simple.”

Jack took another drag, nodding. “They’re good people here, but if they don’t take the Sanctified seriously… well, we could lose all of this.”

The farmer sighed, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one else was listening. “You’re not wrong. There are some of us who see it. But saying anything gets you dismissed as paranoid—or worse, ungrateful. Not much anyone can do unless the council changes its mind.”

Jack’s face hardened, his determination solidifying. “Well, if they won’t listen, I’ll just have to make sure we’re ready, even if I’m doing it myself.”

The farmer offered him a sympathetic nod. “Good luck, Jack. And remember, some of us believe you. Just… keep your head down. Sometimes, a place like this doesn’t need enemies outside when it’s already got them inside.”

Jack mulled over the words, feeling a new sense of purpose as he finished his cigarette and headed back to the lodgings.

Back at the lodgings, Sam, Lila, and Ezra were settling in, each of them looking up as Jack entered, a determined look on his face.

“Did you talk to them?” Sam asked, already guessing the answer from Jack’s expression.

Jack nodded, his voice steady. “They don’t think Magnus is a real threat. They’re too comfortable, think they’re untouchable behind these walls.”

Ezra looked down, his face thoughtful. “So, what now?”

Jack took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over his small group. “Now we prepare. Whether the council wants to admit it or not, Magnus isn’t stopping. And if he comes here, we’re going to be the ones ready for him.”

The group exchanged looks, a silent understanding passing between them. Jack could feel the weight of responsibility settle over him, but this time, he didn’t mind. He’d come to care about these people and this place, and he would protect it—even if he had to do it alone.

As night fell over Refuge, Jack sat alone, his eyes scanning the horizon. The walls around him offered some comfort, but he knew better than to rely on walls alone. His real strength lay in the people he’d found here, the makeshift family he’d come to protect. And if that meant going against the council, so be it.

One way or another, he would make sure Refuge stood strong.