[After walking some distance from the fight...]
New Horizon, Nuclear Refugee Area.
The wasteland stretched out endlessly, a desolate sea of cracked earth and twisted metal, scorched by a sun that seemed to have forgotten how to set. Rising from this barren expanse was a settlement—if one could call it that. It huddled against the wind like a wounded animal.
The gates of New Horizon creaked open, revealing a sprawling metropolis of scavenged shelters and makeshift tents. Nexus stepped through the entrance alongside Horvath.
Horvath's massive frame and twisted limbs drew wary glances from the settlement's guards, who eyed his brutal, hammer-like fists. Nexus's feline ears folded back, sensing the tension.
The guard stops them.
Guard: Newcomers not allowed in.
Horvath gives the guard a piece of a biscuit. The guard eyes the biscuit with greed in his eyes and says immediately...
Guard: In...
[And the gates of the new horizon start to open.]
|creak... creak.....creak....|
They enter the gates, and the gates close behind them, separating them from all the dangers of the outside world.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted nearby. A pair of twisted, glowing humans—their bodies radiant with eerie, nuclear energy—caught in a flurry of punches and snarls. The settlement's peacekeepers rushed to intervene, rods and their own mutated bodies clashing against them.
The guards inside the settlement approach the two.
Guard: Come this way if you are new to the settlement. I will take you to registration, and remember, be away from people that look too much normal.
The group of people split into groups and followed the guard.
Nexus: What did he mean by that?
Horvath: The more normal a person is, the more their bodies are capable of absorbing radiation, but it also causes their more primal emotions to increase. If a person is easy to anger, then after absorbing radiation he gets angry easily, and they are also mostly powerful.
Nexus{thinking}: There is no major change in my body also; there is no problem with my emotions. Is it the same for other animals, or are the humans wrong?
As Nexus and Horvath ventured deeper into the settlement, they navigated through many different sites.
- A market selling scavenged goods and makeshift mutations (9 artificial limbs, enhanced senses).
A medical bay treating radiation sickness and mutation-related injuries.
- A communal kitchen serving rationed food (insects, plants, unknown meat, etc.)
They also saw a number of mutations in the people living in New Horizon's residents.
Humans with minor mutations (extra limbs, enhanced strength).
- Twisted, unrecognizable creatures (glowing, scaled, or grotesquely deformed).
Others, like Nexus, have more pronounced animal features. (hair on their body, wings, and scales all over the body)
The air reeked of radiation, smoke, and desperation. Fights broke out sporadically, tensions simmering beneath the surface.
Nexus: Stay sharp.
Horvath: Always.
They reach a tent in an open space where tables are spread and clerks in different clothes are filing information.
At the registration tent, a harried clerk processed their entry.
Clerk : Welcome to New Horizon. You're assigned to Sector 4. Be careful; tensions run high.
Nexus ears perked up.
Nexus: We will.
As they exited the tent, a young woman was having a quarrel with some men, and the fight started to escalate.
when Horvath approaches and stands behind the woman. The goons get frightened seeing Horvath's appearance like a meat mountain, and they flee the scene.
Horvath: You should reduce your temper, Luna.
Luna: Being soft doesn't help me survive in this hellhole, Horvath. Any way did you find any supplies?
Horvath: None; the rats may have scavenged the area, so now we are without food.
Luna : This is troublesome... who is this?
Horvath: A newcomer I just met said 'he wanted to see the outside of the city.'
Luna: Another Lunatic.
Horvath: Okay, enough of that; we need to explore away from the outskirts if we want any food.
Luna: Yeah, call you friend; we will move after daybreak for scavenging.
[Nexus continues to observe society after the nuclear blasts.]
A market sprawled through the center, stalls cobbled together from twisted metal beams and scavenged tarps. Traders hollered out their wares, dented cans of food scavenged from the ruins, weapons fashioned from car parts and old pipes, and tattered clothes still stained with the dirt of a bygone era. The smell of sweat, smoke, and decay hung thick in the air, mixing with the scent of overripe vegetables and meat that had gone bad ages ago.
Children with wide eyes and scarred faces darted between the stalls, their laughter tinged with an eerie echo of innocence lost. Many of them bore the marks of mutation—a third arm sprouting from a shoulder, eyes that blinked sideways, patches of scaly skin—but here, such things were normal, barely worth a second glance.
In one corner of the settlement, an old bus lay on its side, half-buried in the dirt, transformed into a communal shelter. Its windows were boarded up, and the engine was long gone, but its rusted frame offered some semblance of safety.
Nearby, a massive tree rose defiantly from a crack in the concrete, its gnarled branches twisted and bare, save for a few scraps of cloth tied to them. They fluttered in the wind like ragged flags, each one a marker left by someone who had passed through this place, a token of hope or desperation in a world where both were hard to come by.
Here, in this wasteland refuge, life persisted—not in spite of the apocalypse, but because of it. Every scar, every mutation, every desperate act was proof that humanity could bend but never quite break. It was a place where survival wasn't guaranteed but was fought for, day after grueling day, against a world that had long since forgotten what it meant to be kind.
Horvath: Sometimes, everything that is taken leaves behind something that changes you.
Images of children laughing and a man and woman watching them from a distance, hand in hand, flashes in his mind, and then it flashes to burning houses, and a crunching sound echoes in his mind, snapping him from his memories and reminding him of reality.
Horvath (whispering sadly to himself): Just... it may not be good every time...
Something flashes in his eyes. sadness, anger... maybe a tear?????
To be Continued!!!