"Sometimes the heaviest burdens are eased not by forgetting, but by sharing the weight."
The first light of morning crept through the shattered remains of a windowpane, golden shafts of sun piercing the cold, crumbling walls of the three-story house. Dust danced in the air like fragile ghosts of the past, and within those fragile beams, a new day struggled to begin.
Upstairs, Ayush stood alone, near the window of the top floor. His eyes were fixed on the streets below — empty, silent, but never truly safe. The burden on his shoulders wasn't visible, but it pressed into his bones with every breath. In his stillness, there was command. In his silence, unspoken promise.
Across the hallway, the sharp, rhythmic scrape of metal on stone broke the quiet. Kartik sat cross-legged on the cold floor, a small knife in hand, sharpening it with calm, mechanical precision. His face was unreadable — the kind of calm that had seen too much and stopped expecting peace.
Ground Floor — Main Room
Downstairs, the makeshift base stirred to life. Ananya moved between crates and shelves with gentle purpose, her faded shirt clean but worn. Her fingers brushed over each ration with care, as if touching fragile hopes rather than supplies.
Nearby, Sanaa leaned back against the wall, her face pale, eyes shadowed by nights without sleep — and by the new life growing inside her. Yet, behind her fatigue was a glint of something stronger. She would not let fear claim her.
Mr. Khan walked slowly through the main room, his presence quiet yet grounding. His voice, when it came, was gentle as a lullaby and just as needed.
"We have survived because we never lost faith," he said softly. "This house—our new foundation—it will stand as a symbol of that faith."
Sanaa looked up at him and offered a tired smile — brittle, but real.
Mrs. Khan moved through the group like a nurse in a battlefield hospital, offering slices of bread and sips of water. Her kindness came with no expectations. Her eyes, however, held sorrow unspoken — the weight of all the sons and daughters she'd never known but now protected.
Rooftop — Sunrise
Up on the rooftop, Bhargav stood at the edge, facing the horizon. The sun breached the ruined skyline with slow reluctance, casting long golden fingers across the city. He didn't flinch as the wind whipped his jacket.
His mind was elsewhere — with his father, lying cold and monstrous in the street below. A whisper escaped him, lost in the wind.
"For them... I have to be stronger."
Behind him, Tanya lingered near the rooftop door. A weathered notebook rested on her lap, filled with half-scribbled poems and sketches of a life that no longer existed. She watched Bhargav quietly, a pang of recognition flickering in her chest.
Main Room — Mid-Morning Assembly
The group gathered in the center of the base. The walls, still crumbling in places, now held new reinforcements. The mood was tense but focused.
Ayush stood at the center — shoulders square, eyes burning with quiet command.
"We have a home now," he said. "But it will only keep us safe if we make it so. Today, we begin new defenses, new routines. We protect each other, no matter what."
Kartik stepped forward, pulling out a crumpled map sketched on old cardboard. The ink was smudged, but the strategy was clear.
"Every window. Every door. We seal them tight. And we rotate watch shifts — day and night."
Bhargav's jaw was tight as he nodded.
"Rooftop watch is mine tonight."
Ananya moved closer, her eyes serious.
"I'll handle inventory. Every pill, every grain of rice needs to be accounted for."
Ayush met her gaze and gave a faint nod of gratitude.
"Thank you."
Supply Room — Afternoon
The room smelled of dust and disinfectant. Ananya flipped open a tattered notebook, its pages barely clinging to the spine.
Day One: Ration Log.
She scribbled furiously.
"Water: 24 liters. Canned food: 50 units. Medicine: 12 units."
Her voice rang softly in her own mind.
We must make every piece last.
Sanaa stepped inside quietly. She hesitated, as if her very presence might fracture the moment.
"I'm… worried," she murmured.
Ananya didn't stop writing, but her voice softened.
"We all are. But worry won't keep us alive. Planning will."
Sanaa nodded, her eyes shadowed but resolute.
Second Floor — Quiet Room
Tanya sat cross-legged by a cracked window, her pen scratching against a page. The silence wasn't peace. It was survival.
"In this broken world," she wrote, "every small moment feels precious… even fear, even pain. We are all holding on to hope — fragile, like glass."
The wind moaned beyond the walls. And somewhere distant, something growled.
Street Outside — Afternoon
Below, just out of view, the dead stirred.
A slow tide of shuffling feet and guttural moans pressed against the barricades. Their hands scratched the concrete. Their hunger was endless.
Shivam watched from behind the boarded window, his knuckles white on the hilt of a wooden plank. His breath was still. He didn't blink.
Evening — Internal Tension Rises
Ayush and Kartik bent over the map again in the common room, their whispers low and urgent. Mention was made of Mehul — a contact coordinating distant efforts via an old radio, faint but reliable.
"We'll need to scout soon," Kartik murmured. "This building can't protect us forever."
Ayush's voice was like steel.
"First, we survive the now."
Hallway Conversation
Sanaa walked slowly with Ananya beside her. Her steps dragged — from exhaustion, yes, but more than that.
Ananya caught the tension.
"You're carrying more than just the baby, aren't you?"
Sanaa halted. Her voice cracked.
"What if I can't protect him? What if I'm not strong enough?"
Before she could fall apart, Ananya wrapped her arms around her.
"You don't have to be strong alone. We'll protect him. We'll protect you."
Rooftop — Midnight Assault
The groans grew louder. The barricades rattled. The dead had found them again.
Bhargav stood atop the roof, pipe in hand, the moon casting jagged shadows across his determined face.
This is it, he thought. Hold or fall.
He shouted down.
"Hold them off! Don't let them break through!"
Inside, chaos. Furniture dragged. Nails hammered. Blood pounded in ears louder than the undead's howls.
But they held.
Pre-Dawn Silence
The assault waned with the creeping light of dawn. The moaning faded. The horde staggered away, unsatisfied.
Bhargav sank to one knee, chest heaving.
Final Scene — Main Room at Dawn
They gathered in the common room, faces pale, hands shaking. But they were still standing.
Ayush faced them, his voice low and sure.
"This building is more than shelter. It's hope. And as long as we stand together… nothing can break us."
A hush fell.
And then… the smallest flicker of smiles. Tired, fragile. But real.
[EPISODE 7 – END]