The temporary shelter wasn't much more than a canvas tarp strung between two leaning poles, reinforced with scrap metal beams driven into the rocky ground. Gemma had carved out a small space beneath the looming shadow of the mountain that loomed like an uninvited giant, its craggy face pocked with rust and stone. The steel gate that marked the entrance to Deep-1 lay just beyond, stark and foreboding. Snow and Rain arrived under the grey light of morning, their packs smaller than usual, their steps a little heavier.
Gemma looked up from her workbench, where she had been hunched over a piece of Old One machinery—a warped, gear-filled contraption with wires spilling from its guts. Her thick, round glasses were smeared with grease, and her hair stuck out in every direction like she'd been wrestling with a live power cable.
"Took you long enough," she called, squinting at them. Then, her sharp eyes darted to Rain, who trailed behind Snow with her shoulders slumped, her head bowed as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her slight frame.
"What's her deal?" Gemma asked, jerking her thumb in Rain's direction. "Someone steal her sweets?"
Snow shot her a look as she set her pack down. "Something like that," she muttered, her tone flat but simmering with restrained anger.
Gemma folded her arms and tilted her head. "Oh, this sounds juicy. Spill it."
Snow hesitated, glancing at Rain, who had sunk onto a rock, her knees pulled up to her chest. The younger girl was quiet, her usual chatter replaced by a heavy silence that didn't suit her. With a sigh, Snow relented.
"We left the Niners," she said simply.
Gemma raised an eyebrow. "Really? Thought you lot were inseparable, like rats on a sinking ship."
"Turns out, they're just rats," Snow replied bitterly.
Rain looked up, her voice soft and wavering. "They didn't like that I was… different. A Knower. They took everything—my notes, my books, everything—and said I didn't deserve it."
Gemma's smirk faded. For a moment, she simply stared at them, her expression unreadable. Then she shrugged and said, "Well, that's stupid."
Snow blinked. "That's it? That's all you've got?"
Gemma spread her hands. "What do you want me to say? 'Oh, poor you, how tragic'? Doesn't change anything, does it?" She glanced at Rain, her tone softening just slightly. "For what it's worth, though… that's a raw deal. You don't deserve that kind of treatment."
Rain managed a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's fine," she said quietly. "It's not like my things were that important anyway. Just the ramblings of a dreamer, not a proper Knower like you."
Gemma's eyebrows shot up, and she let out a sharp laugh. "Proper Knower? Is that what you think I am? Kid, the only difference between me and you is that I know how to use a wrench."
Rain looked at her, startled.
"Listen," Gemma said, crouching down in front of her, "no knowledge is useless. Doesn't matter if it's a diagram of an engine or some scribbled thoughts about the Once-World. What matters is who's holding it and what they do with it. Even a dreamer like you can make something out of nothing if you've got the guts to try."
Snow opened her mouth to say something, but Rain beat her to it. "Do you really mean that?" she asked, her voice hesitant but tinged with hope.
Gemma shrugged. "Sure. And if we get out of this mess alive, I'll even teach you how to be a 'proper' Knower. Sound good?"
Rain's face lit up, the clouds lifting from her expression. "Yes! Yes, that sounds amazing!"
Snow watched the exchange with a mixture of relief and irritation. It was the second time since arriving in the Eastern Alliance that someone like Gemma had managed to pull Rain out of her gloom when Snow couldn't. The thought rankled, though she shoved it aside. What mattered was that Rain was smiling again.
Gemma stood, brushing her hands off on her patched trousers. "Good. Now, get your heads in the game. We've got a long day ahead of us."
Before they could move toward the shelter, Rain tugged at Snow's sleeve and pointed toward the distant horizon. Snow followed her gaze and saw a line of vehicles—ramshackle trucks and buggies patched together with scavenged parts—winding away from Greybranch and heading south. The Niners.
"They're leaving," Rain said quietly.
Snow's jaw tightened. "Good riddance," she muttered.
Rain didn't seem to hear her. "Do you think… do you think they'll be okay? Do you think they'll ever change?"
Snow sighed, the bitterness fading from her voice. "I don't know, Rain. Maybe. People can surprise you, but it's not something I'd bet on."
Rain nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I hope they do," she said softly.
Snow glanced at her, then gave a small, reluctant smile. "You're too good for this world, you know that?"
Before Rain could respond, Gemma's voice rang out from the shelter. "Hey! You two gonna stare at the scenery all day, or are we doing this?"
Snow shook her head, her smile fading as she turned toward the steel gate looming in the shadow of the mountain. "Let's go," she said, her tone firm.
Rain nodded, her resolve steady. Together, they followed Gemma toward the gate, their steps echoing on the rocky ground. The mountain loomed larger with every step, its craggy face swallowing them in its shadow.
————————————————————————————————————————————
The air inside Deep-1 was thick with the scent of rust and mildew, the cloying smell of ancient machinery lying dormant in the gloom. The faint hum of something—perhaps a long-forgotten generator, stubbornly clinging to life—buzzed through the walls. Shadows shifted with every flicker of their headlamps, casting strange, twisting shapes against the walls of the narrow corridors.
Snow moved ahead, her eyes darting to every corner, every crevice. Her grip on her longshooter was tight, her posture coiled like a spring. The place felt too quiet, too still. There were signs of the Old Ones everywhere—half-buried terminals, skeletal remains of furniture, and walls lined with hollowed-out machines—but the facility itself seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting.
Behind her, Rain flitted about like a moth drawn to a flame. Her eyes widened at every flicker of light reflecting off rusted panels, her fingers twitching to touch. "Snow, look!" she called out, pointing at a set of blinking lights embedded in a control panel. "Do you think it still works?"
"Don't touch it," Snow barked without turning around, her voice sharp.
Rain hesitated, her hand hovering over the dusty buttons. "I wasn't going to," she mumbled, though her tone suggested otherwise. She tucked her hands behind her back and trotted after Snow, her boots kicking up clouds of grime.
Gemma, bringing up the rear, was calmer than either of them. Her sharp eyes darted between her surroundings and the crude map she was scrawling on a sheet of old plastic with a charred stub of chalk. Every now and then, she paused to jot down notes or mutter to herself. "Service corridors here… storage area marked... probably leads to the lower levels..." Her tone was clinical, almost detached, though there was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
"What do you think this place was for?" Rain asked, trailing beside her and peering over her shoulder at the map.
"Research," Gemma replied without looking up. "Probably military or scientific, judging by the layout. See how the corridors are laid out in a grid? Standard for places like this. Efficient. Cold."
Rain nodded, her fingers brushing against the faded lettering etched into the metal walls. "It's incredible, isn't it? All this technology… all these things they built, just abandoned."
Gemma shrugged. "That's the thing about the Old Ones. They were brilliant, sure, but also idiots. Built all this, then let it all collapse around them. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
Snow, still ahead, didn't respond. She didn't trust the way the walls seemed to lean closer the further they ventured, the faint flicker of dormant lights like the eyes of predators in the dark.
When they stopped to rest, it was in a small alcove tucked away from the main corridor. The girls set up a makeshift camp—little more than a few blankets and their gear stacked against the walls. Snow sat with her back to the group, her longshooter resting across her lap as she kept watch on the corridor. The faint murmur of Rain and Gemma's conversation floated toward her, but she didn't turn around.
Gemma leaned back against the wall, her map rolled up beside her, and regarded Rain with a curious expression. "You're really serious about this Knower stuff, aren't you?"
Rain tilted her head, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Gemma said, gesturing vaguely with one hand, "most people don't stick their necks out to 'know' things unless there's something in it for them. So, what's your deal? Why do you want to be a Knower?"
Rain hesitated, her hands twisting in her lap. "I… I want to help people," she said softly. "I want to use the Old Ones' knowledge to make the world better. To stop things like the Collapse from ever happening again."
Gemma let out a low whistle. "That's a big dream, kid."
Rain's cheeks flushed, and she looked down. "Is that… is that stupid?"
"No," Gemma said, surprising her. "It's admirable. But it's also naive."
Rain blinked, hurt flickering across her face. "Why?"
"Because this world's a mess," Gemma said bluntly. "It's broken, rotten to the core. You think the Niners are bad? Try traveling eastward sometime, past the Alliance. Or north, where the clans aren't even pretending to be civil. People don't want to be saved, Rain. They want to survive. Big difference."
Rain was silent, her shoulders slumping.
"But," Gemma added after a moment, her tone softer, "that doesn't mean you're wrong. It just means you've got your work cut out for you."
Rain looked up at her, hope flickering in her eyes. "You think I can do it?"
Gemma shrugged. "I think you've got the determination. And determination's half the battle. The other half is figuring out what you're willing to risk for it."
Rain chewed her lip, her mind racing.
"Here's the thing about being a Knower," Gemma continued. "It's not just about collecting data or figuring out how old machines work. It's about understanding why. Why the Old Ones built what they built. Why they fell. And most importantly, why you're doing this in the first place. Once you figure that out, then you'll be a proper Knower."
Rain nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful.
From her spot near the corridor, Snow listened in silence. She didn't understand half of what Gemma was talking about, but one thing stuck with her—the part about figuring out what you're willing to risk. She glanced over her shoulder at Rain, who was now deep in conversation with Gemma, her face alight with curiosity.
Snow tightened her grip on her longshooter. She didn't need to think about her own reason. She already knew it. Rain was her reason. Keeping her safe, keeping her happy—that was Snow's purpose, her anchor in this cruel, broken world.
And she'd do whatever it took to make sure that purpose stayed intact.