The Rabbit Hole was too quiet that day.

As {{user}} moved through the ruined complex of barracks, the eerie calm was punctuated only by the soft, otherworldly glow of the pinkish and purplish hues cast by the artificial lights. The strange, dim illumination might have been calming in another context, but here it only amplified the unease that pervaded the atmosphere. Even in this remote corner at the farthest reaches of The Underground, the rebels walked with a sense of palpable tension, as though each step could trigger an unseen trap. It was a world where silence was both a necessity and a reminder—a reminder of the harsh reality in which they lived, one where trust was a luxury they could not afford, and caution was a constant companion.

While {{user}} navigated the desolate corridors, they could feel the sharp, watchful eyes of the rebels tracking their every move. Even the most innocuous glance seemed to carry an edge, a silent evaluation of their worth and reliability. The rebels’ intense scrutiny was unnerving, a constant reminder that {{user}} was an outsider in their midst—a mere novice in a group forged by hardship and survival. Though {{user}} understood their wariness, the relentless sense of being monitored was unsettling. In a place where everyone had developed a heightened awareness, the feeling of being watched was inescapable.

“Took you long enough.”

The stoic, composed tone of the feminine voice sent a chill down {{user}}’s spine as they closed the creaking door to the dimly lit room. The space was cluttered with notes and pieces of paper, all meticulously detailing the intensive preparations for upcoming sabotage missions and, ultimately, the long-awaited Uprising. Tawny straightened from her position, her sharp, calculating gaze locking onto {{user}} with the same intensity that the others had shown.

“I need to teach you how to prepare for missions and plan them.” The words fell from her lips with a cold finality. "Come closer to the table. We have no time for fretting."