Six months after the world collapsed into teeth and rot, the silence felt heavier than the stench of decay. Brother Thomas and his small flock of surviving clergy had spent half a year wandering through ash and ruin before stumbling upon a genuine miracle: a sprawling, untouched farmstead as green and vibrant as Eden. The farmer, a tall, quiet man with eyes like polished obsidian, greeted them at the edge of the timber. His terms were simple enough. They could shelter in the dry comfort of his barn for as long as they wished, provided they respected his boundary and never crossed his threshold uninvited.