Stuck in the Mud of Awtad

Thunder detonated above the cabin roof, a violent crack that shuddered through the rotting timber as if the sky had finally decided to crush this isolated ridge. The kerosene lamps flickering in the corners gasped, their flames dancing in a frantic, losing battle before the external generator gave its final, wheezing breath. Seth didn’t flinch at the sudden roar or the encroaching dark. He remained frozen, his eyes locked on the narrow aperture of the steel insulin cooler. The cooler door sat ajar, an unnatural angle that set his teeth on edge. The synthetic ice meant to shield the precious vials was hemorrhaging, turning into slow rivulets of water that snaked across the floorboards to vanish into the cracks. Seth reached out, his fingers stiffening against the chill, aiming for the final dose. His skin met only jagged glass. The vial lay crushed in the corner, pulverized with a deliberate violence that left the shards gleaming like diamonds in the pale kerosene light. This wasn't an accident; it was a clinical execution of hope. On the field cot in the corner, Marcus let out a thin, fractured moan. His body twisted beneath the heavy wool blankets, his forehead slick with a cold…