Three hours quickly passed, but the tension in the air only worsened.
With darkness now fully enveloping the reinforced building, panic began to creep back into the minds of the refugees, many fearing this disaster would stretch on for days or weeks like the cataclysms of the past.
Up on the second floor, Ethan was noticeably straining.
His face was pale and drenched in sweat, and he was gulping down bottle after bottle of well water just to replenish his drained spiritual energy and sustain the massive shadow pillars.
Watching him push himself to the absolute limit, Elena felt a sharp pang of heartache.
A cold, selfish thought began to take root in her mind. She no longer wanted to care about the refugees, the military, or anyone else around her.
Whatever happened to them was no longer her concern.
Right now, all she wanted was to drag her husband back into the RV, retreat to a quiet corner, and leave the military to handle the rest of the storm on their own.
