The dust swirled around Marcus’s boots as he stood atop the makeshift scaffolding, looking out over the burgeoning activity below. The air, still filtered but undeniably stale, hummed with the low thrum of the restored generators and the more chaotic sounds of human industry. Hammers clanged, saws whirred, and voices, a mixture of German, Polish, and even a smattering of English, echoed through the vast cavern. The Citadel of Ash was taking shape.