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“THE FURNACED COUNCIL” cont.
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2 Weeks Later
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The wind cuts through the camp like a blade, carrying with it the smell of smoke, sickness, and cold earth.
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Snow drifts lazily from the gray sky, settling on tents patched with whatever cloth the people can find. The once-bustling settlement is quiet now — too quiet.
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Metro walks slowly, boots sinking into the slush, his breath fogging in front of him. Every step feels heavier than the last. Passing the Maidens’ cabin, he approaches a small wooden structure with frost creeping along the edges of the windows.
Inside, muffled sobs leak through the thin walls.
When he passes the open doorway, he sees them:Three young women kneeling beside two covered bodies — old men who didn’t survive the night. Their hands tremble as they clutch each other, tears streaking down on their faces. One maiden shakes her head, unable to speak, her grief spilling silently. Metro pauses in the doorway. His chest tightens. He wants to say something — anything — but the words die in his throat. He lowers his head and keeps walking. Some of the elderly women sit near the cabin door look up at him.
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One pair of eyes is filled with hatred — blaming him. Another pair is filled with heartbreak — begging him to fix what he cannot.
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Metro absorbs only ones energy.
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Pressing on he continues down the main path.
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He sees families are huddled around small fires, trying to coax warmth from dying embers. Babies wrapped in thin blankets cry weakly. Children cling to their parents, cheeks hollow, lips pale. A woman tries to warm her hands over a lantern that barely glows. A teenage boy stares blankly at the snow, eyes sunken. Morale isn’t just low — it’s shattered. An old man sits inside the hearth lodge, visible through a fogged indoor window. They’re bundled in thick coats, faces grim, watching the camp with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. The old man's jaw is tight. He’s arrived at the worst possible moment — or maybe the moment Metro needs him the most.
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Metro walks toward the largest fire pit in the center of camp — the one meant to be the heart of the community. Now it’s barely alive, flames licking weakly at damp logs. Lilly stands near the kitchen area on the left side of the hall, stirring a pot of thin broth. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat, but her eyes are tired, ringed with exhaustion. When she sees Metro, she forces a smile — soft, warm, but frayed around the edges.
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Lilly:(voice cracking slightly)
“Hey… you’re back.”
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She wipes her hands on her apron and steps out of the kitchen, pushing through the beaded curtain. The beads clatter softly as she enters the main hall, head lowered.
Metro watches her go, feeling the weight of her worry settle on his shoulders.
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He turns to the horses standing in their makeshift stable, steam rising from their nostrils. They’re alive — but thin. Their coats are dull, their movements sluggish. Sally lifts her head when Metro approaches, ears flicking forward, but even she looks worn. Metro places a hand on her neck, feeling the cold beneath her fur. He gives her one last stroke before turning toward the hall.
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MAIN HALL- YURT
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The beads sway as he pushes them open. Inside, the hall is dimly lit by lanterns and the struggling central hearth. People sit on benches, wrapped in blankets, waiting — for food, for orders, for hope.
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Some look up when Metro enters. Some don’t have the strength. A few eyes brighten. A few narrow with resentment. Most simply watch him, silently pleading for answers. Metro steps inside fully, letting the door close behind him. The weight of the entire camp settles on his shoulders.
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Metro, Rose, Paul, Lilly, Ana, Blake,Gregory, grumpy Sam, Rodney, Kathryn, and Archeus all around the main furnace blaster,
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(Cornelius bedridden),(Kyle lays bedridden in Lilly's cottage with his wife).
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The glass furnace is see through so they can see each other across the table. Just a morphed flamed expression to be seen.
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Metro:
“Archeus has told me there isn't any food to be found for miles each way, the hunters are starved and can’t continue.”
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Archeus shifts slowly in his scooted stool.
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Archues:
“I'm afraid moral is down with the maidens and children. Everyone is very hungry and sick, the elderly have perished from sickness, the depression has hit the camp... winter has arrived in brutal fashion.’
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‘…I'm afraid this is the start of starvation and pestilence.”
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Beat.
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…due to many hungry mouths to feed.
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Sam:
“There's monsters out there bigger than us... they're also hungry.”
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Metro stares and continues on.
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METRO 1497 —
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The main furnace blaster roars in the center of the hall—its glass belly glowing like a trapped sun. Everyone sits around it in a wide circle, silhouettes flickering in the amber light. Through the flames they can see each other’s faces: pale, tired, hollowed by hunger and cold.
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Metro sits forward, elbows on his knees, eyes dim but steady, pauses, breath shaky, then continues.
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Metro:
“Lilly and Ana barely have rations left. We can’t live on seeds. Everyone’s weak… fighting sickness.”
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Archeus lifts his head, voice soft but unwavering.
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Archeus
“There is still hope.”
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Blake nods faintly, eyes half‑closed.
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Metro nods back, though he looks pale—almost translucent in the firelight.
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Rose leans forward, cloak wrapped tight.
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Rose
“We need to find food soon.”
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Lilly’s voice is small, tired.
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Lilly
“We’ve foraged everywhere. Nothing alive for miles.”
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Ana folds her hands in her lap, speaking gently.
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Ana
“We may need to start an indoor greenhouse. Lantern‑light. Flowing water.”
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Everyone looks at her.
Metro’s eyes soften—twinkling faintly, but still pale.
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Kathryn breaks the silence.
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Kathryn
“I’m ready to eat one of you guys…”
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Everyone stares.
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Kathryn
“…Sorry.”
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Cornelius, bedridden on a cot near the furnace, cracks a weak smile.
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Cornelius:(coughs)
“Good one…”
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But the room stays stern. Exhausted. Hollow.
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Paul shifts, wincing from soreness.
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Paul
“I can’t continue on like this much longer. We need warmer weather… or food. Who’s willing to go?”
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Gregory sits cross‑legged, mask and goggles hiding his face. He bows his head, hands on his knees.
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Gregory
“I’ll go.”
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Sam:(exhales sharply)
“Finally. Thank you.”
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Blake lifts a hand in agreement.
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Blake
“Thanks, man…”
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Archeus smiles faintly.
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Archeus
“One‑of‑a‑kind lad, that one.”
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Gregory turns toward Metro.
Metro already feels the request before it’s spoken.
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Gregory
“Would you assist me on the hunt, Metro?
I believe we can pull this off…
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What do you say?”
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A beat.
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Metro
“Yeah.”
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He stands. Heads lift around the circle.
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Rose rises too, gripping Metro’s arm, eyes flicking toward Kathryn and the others—fear and love tangled together.
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The bead curtain rustles. Rebecca enters, breathless.
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Rebecca
“I’m sorry to intrude… I heard you speaking of hunting. Straw Hat loves elk—there should be plenty this season along the trails somewhere.”
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She carries Kyle’s handmade crossbow—brown wood, black metal, crafted with care.
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Rebecca folds her dress, kneeling before him and presents the weapon with both hands.
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Rebecca
“Kyle wants you to have this.
He knew you’d go looking for all of us.”
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The room watches in reverent silence.
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Metro kneels too, meeting her eyes.
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Metro
“Tell Kye I said thank you.”
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Rebecca smiles softly and slips out through the beads.
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Blake pushes himself to his feet, swaying. He unstraps his bow‑staff.
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Blake
“Here… I don’t have the strength to use it.
Found some mice earlier… let them go.”
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Metro smiles—small, tired, grateful.
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Blake
“Godspeed, man.”
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Metro straps the staff to his back. Rose hugs him. Ana joins. Kathryn watches from the firelight.
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Kathryn:(voice soft, tired)
“Bring me a quail, would ya?”
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Gregory bows.
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Gregory(nods to Katt)
“I’ll do my best for you, Katt.”
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Kathryn grins. Blake’s face tightens, then softens—hunger dulling everything.
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Metro and Gregory step through the beads into the freezing wind.
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Archeus hurries after them, holding a sliced block of cheese.
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Archeus
“For you, Master Metro—”
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Metro shakes his head.
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Metro
“Give it to someone who needs it.”
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Archeus hesitates, confused, then hands it to Gregory.
Gregory tears off his mask and devours it like a starving wolf, then drinks from his flask.
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Gregory:(looks up to the sky)
“Goodness…”
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Metro mounts Sally, leaning forward, forehead resting against her neck—fatigue weighing him down.
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Archeus steps closer, voice trembling with sincerity.
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Archeus:
“Here.”
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He offers a small brass compass—old, worn, cherished.
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Archeus:
“My grandfather gave it to me.
It’s lucky. Many magical things have been found with it. And… I know you’ll use it well.”
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Metro looks at him—deeply, gratefully.
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Metro
“Thank you, Archeus.
You’re a good friend.”
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He nudges Sally forward.
Gregory rides beside him on Crook.
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Together they disappear into the snowy mountain trails— two bodies swallowed by white, carrying the hope of the entire camp on their backs.
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and then Add to home screen.