I sighed deeply as they continued to grumble about the state of my hideout. In a moment of exasperation, I rolled my eyes at their reactions. 'These spoiled brats,' I thought, barely able to suppress my annoyance.
"This is only a front," I declared, stepping away from the dust and debris. "I figured it would make it harder for anyone to find me if they ever came looking."
I approached one of the large, worn-out cabinets that loomed against the wall, its wooden frame splintered but sturdy. With a decisive shove, I pushed it aside, revealing a hidden entrance behind it.
With a grunt, I revealed a hidden pathway. "This is where I really live," I announced, a hint of pride edging into my voice.
Stepping through the narrow opening, I led them into a much larger, cleaner space. It was well-lit by a few makeshift light sources I had managed to rig up, and the air felt less stale. A single tent, shelves that are filled with supplies—everything from food, tools and my weapons.
