Taph ! !

The fire crackles quietly. Survivors murmur among themselves, some stretching sore limbs, others grabbing a slice of pizza or enjoying the break from constantly doing rounds. Near a large table in the center of the room, two figures sat: one hooded, motionless, with their mouth and nose wrapped in a gold‑patterned bandana. Taph. Beside him, Builderman scribbles something out on a blueprint and shows it to the demolitionist. Taph picks it up to look closely at the blueprint before nodding his head, passing it back to Builderman. They seemed to be busy, unlike most of the other survivors in the lobby.