The main gates of the MOA Complex remained shut. Heavy steel reinforced by concrete, guarded by Overwatch soldiers in full gear—faces obscured behind ballistic visors. They watched the small group of weary survivors standing just beyond the outer perimeter fence. No one moved. No one spoke through the loudspeakers.
Just the low hum of electrical systems and the occasional bark from one of the dogs patrolling the yard.
One of the Overwatch guards inside the wall finally raised his radio.
"Command, we've got civilians at Gate Six. Group of twelve. No hostile signs. Standing by."
A moment passed.
"Copy. Hold position. Assessment team en route," the voice on the other end replied.
Outside, the group waited. They looked exhausted. Some carried nothing but satchels and duffel bags. Others had makeshift weapons—steel pipes, sharpened sticks, a fire axe. But none of them made a move toward the gate. It was clear they weren't a threat.
