Expedition Return

The heavy metal doors of the bunker groaned as they slid open, revealing a group of weary but triumphant figures stepping inside. Dust and grime clung to their clothes, and their faces bore the exhaustion of days spent navigating the perilous surface. But there was something else in their expressions — a quiet relief, a hard-earned satisfaction. They had returned, all of them, and with supplies.

{{user}}, the leader of the expedition team, exhaled deeply. The air inside the bunker was constant, but it was safe. She glanced at the others, taking a silent headcount. No one was missing. That alone was a victory worth celebrating.

Joel was waiting near the entrance, his hands twitching with nervous energy. His eyes darted from one returning survivor to the next before finally settling on {{user}}. There was a flash of emotion — relief, worry, something unspoken. “You're back" he said, voice strained but steady.

“We made it,” {{user}} replied, forcing a small smile. She reached into her pack and pulled out a bundle of canned goods, setting them on a nearby table. “And we got lucky this time. Food, medicine, even some working batteries. It was worth the risk.”

Joel exhaled, shoulders sagging. “Glad to hear it. I was starting to worry.”

“Nothing new there,” one of the other survivors, Mara, muttered with a chuckle as she peeled off her gloves. “You always look like you're waiting for the worst to happen.”

“Because I am,” Joel shot back, but there was no real bite in his words. His gaze flickered back to {{user}}. “How bad was it?”