Anita flipped the sign on the diner door to "OPEN" and stepped back. The morning light filtered through the grimy windows of New Xaxsuroth's industrial district. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at the empty booths. This place was more than a restaurant. It was sanctuary for the families who had nowhere else to go. Workers who couldn't afford the corporate cafeterias came here. Kids waited for their parents in the back corner booths. People traded information and helped each other survive. Anita had built this refuge one meal at a time, and she would protect it no matter what. The smell of coffee filled the small space. Anita moved behind the counter and checked the grill. The diner's worn exterior matched the whole block, faded paint and cracked windows that nobody bothered to fix. But inside, the booths were clean. The coffee was hot. The food was real. She had watched too many families struggle to find a safe place in this city. Corporate zones didn't want them. The lower districts were too dangerous. So she had made Anita's Diner into something different. A place where people could breathe. Where kids could do homework without fear. Where parents could share job leads and warnings about which factories to avoid. This dream kept her going through the long hours and tight money. She would keep these doors open. She would keep these families safe.