The ruins stretched out before Leon like the bones of some long-dead beast, crumbling and silent, but still holding secrets beneath their decay. He moved slowly, carefully, with the kind of precision that came from years of practice. Every step was deliberate, his eyes sweeping the ground for the telltale glint of something worth salvaging. Other scavengers had been through here before him—he could see their tracks in the dust, the places where debris had been moved, where valuable scrap had already been plucked. But Leon knew there was always more to find if you had the patience.
He knelt beside a pile of broken masonry, brushing away the dust with the back of his hand. The scent of old stone and rust filled the air, familiar and oddly comforting in its own way. He picked through the rubble, feeling the texture of metal beneath his fingers. A broken piece of tech—a stabilizer, maybe—twisted and useless now, but it could fetch a small price in the market. Not much, but enough to justify the time spent here.
"Not the worst I've found," Leon muttered to himself, flipping the piece over in his hand. The edges were worn, the metal scuffed, but it still had some life left in it. "Could probably get a few credits for this, or at least trade it for something better."
He pocketed the piece and rose to his feet, his eyes drifting toward the deeper parts of the ruins. The light from the entrance was faint now, casting long shadows that stretched across the floor, making the edges of the walls blur into darkness. His pack hung heavy on his shoulder, but he barely noticed it anymore. He'd been out here for hours, and while his haul wasn't impressive, it wasn't a total loss either.
Leon paused, glancing over the scattered pieces of scrap he'd already collected. Instead of continuing forward, he eyed a broken table half-buried under debris nearby. With a quiet grunt, he shifted the wreckage aside and cleared a small space on the surface, enough to lay out his findings.
He began pulling out pieces from his pack, arranging them carefully on the table: the half-broken stabilizer, a frayed wire coil, a few bits of old circuitry. His fingers moved almost unconsciously, assessing each part, imagining how they might fit together.
His eyes narrowed as he studied them, a plan already forming in the back of his mind. "Could probably rig a rudimentary sensor out of this... patch it together with some extra scrap..." he muttered, fingers idly toying with a piece of metal. "Or maybe a low-range energy field... something simple, keep the heat from leaking out of smaller devices."
For a moment, Leon was lost in his thoughts, envisioning the possibilities. He'd always had a knack for turning junk into something useful—something no one else would think twice about. Other scavengers praised him for it, but to Leon, it was just instinct. He saw the potential in things, even when they seemed broken beyond repair.
But then reality snapped him back.
He glanced around at the ruins of Ein Soldat, a place littered with the remnants of someone else's war. The traps, the hidden dangers—it was a miracle he hadn't tripped anything yet. The soldier who had claimed this place long ago had made sure no one would enter it easily, and Leon had been lucky to avoid the worst of it so far.
The air was still, unnervingly quiet, reminding him that he wasn't out here just for the scraps. There was something bigger to find. He could feel it, somewhere deeper in the shadows of the ruins. A treasure left behind by the lone soldier who had turned this place into his fortress.
Leon quickly packed the parts back into his bag, forcing himself to focus. "Right," he muttered, adjusting the strap of his pack. "Plenty of time to build later. Gotta find what's worth taking first."
He stepped away from the table, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the pieces he'd scattered. Tempting as it was to stay and tinker, he knew better than to linger in a place like this. Ein Soldat wasn't just ruins—it was a trap waiting for the careless.
Leon slung his pack over his shoulder and stepped carefully away from the broken table, the shadows of Ein Soldat stretching out ahead of him. This place was a tomb, silent and dark, but it held more than just the bones of old wars. There were treasures here—treasures others had missed because they didn't have the patience or the eye to find them.
He'd heard the stories growing up, back when scavengers still whispered about the soldier who'd found the ruins long ago. Deployed on some forgotten mission, the soldier had stumbled upon this place, hidden in the wilderness. No one knew what it had been before—maybe a fortress, maybe a sanctuary. But the soldier had made it his own, filling it with traps and turning it into a base of operations. They called him "Ein Soldat," the lone soldier, and the name stuck.
Leon's eyes flicked to the floor as he moved deeper into the ruins, his boots carefully avoiding a set of faint, barely visible wires stretched across the path. Traps. Always traps. The soldier had rigged this place with enough surprises to keep scavengers on edge, and most didn't make it past the first layer of defenses.
Not Leon, though. He'd made it further than most.
"Old man really didn't want anyone poking around, did he?" Leon muttered under his breath, half in admiration, half in frustration. There was something almost admirable about the way the soldier had fortified this place, a dedication that Leon could respect. But it also made his job a hell of a lot harder.
He moved carefully, his eyes sweeping the floor and walls for signs of anything that might trip. As he went, his mind wandered back to the table of scrap he'd left behind. It was a good haul so far, but he knew there was more to find. He could feel it. In places like this, where so many others had failed or turned back, there were always hidden treasures—pieces of old tech, forgotten devices, maybe even something valuable enough to change his luck.
Leon moved carefully, his eyes sweeping the floor and walls for signs of anything that might trip. Every few steps, he paused, crouching to inspect a suspicious crack in the stone or the faint shimmer of a wire just beneath the dust. The soldier who had fortified this place hadn't made it easy for anyone to get far, but that was part of what drew Leon to it. If the traps were this intricate, then whatever the old soldier was guarding had to be worth it.
Still, something about today felt different.
The air seemed heavier, like a storm building on the horizon, and there was a stillness that set his instincts on edge. Leon had been in enough ruins to recognize when something was wrong, even if he couldn't pinpoint exactly what. His footsteps were the only sound in the emptiness, but it was as if the ruins themselves were waiting for something—watching him.
He shook off the feeling and kept moving, his attention drifting back to the table of scrap he'd left behind. It wasn't a bad haul so far. A few decent parts, some broken tech he could probably repurpose. But there was more to find here. He could feel it. In places like this, where others had failed or turned back, there were always hidden treasures—pieces of old tech, forgotten devices, maybe even something valuable enough to change his luck.
Leon knelt beside a pile of debris, brushing away the dust and stone. His fingers curled around the edge of something smooth and metallic, half-buried beneath the rubble. Carefully, he tugged it free, revealing a gleaming, untouched data module.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he muttered to himself, turning the module over in his hands. It was in surprisingly good condition, its casing still intact despite the years of neglect. "Bet you're holding something interesting."
He couldn't help but feel a spark of joy. Finds like this didn't come often, especially not in places that had been picked over so many times. Whatever was on the module, it was probably valuable—either for trade or for some of his own projects. "Not bad, Leon," he said, giving himself a small nod of approval.
He slipped the module into his pack and straightened up, but the heavy feeling in the air remained. The silence pressed in around him, thick and oppressive, reminding him that Ein Soldat wasn't just some forgotten ruin. There was something waiting here, something hidden deeper within.
As he ventured further, the shadows around him seemed to deepen, and the air became even more stifling. Ahead, he noticed a strange opening in the wall, like a doorway to another part of the ruins. But something about it made him hesitate.
The area leading up to it was heavily trapped. More wires, tripwires this time, crisscrossed the floor and walls, barely visible in the dim light. Small, nearly imperceptible pressure plates dotted the ground, and Leon could just make out the faint outlines of mechanisms hidden in the ceiling. This was different from the rest of the ruins—more intricate, more deliberate. It was as if someone had gone out of their way to ensure that no one made it past this point.
Leon crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the layout of the traps. He'd seen this kind of setup before, back in other places left behind by war veterans and soldiers. It wasn't meant to kill outright—it was meant to deter, to make anyone who came this far rethink their decision. A warning.
But Leon wasn't about to turn back now.
He carefully stepped over the first wire, his boots barely making a sound on the stone. One wrong move, and the entire hallway could collapse, or worse. He moved slowly, deliberately, weaving his way through the maze of traps with the kind of precision that only came from years of experience.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped past the last wire and into the open space beyond.
He paused immediately, crouching low to the ground as his eyes swept the area around him. Years of experience had taught him not to take any new space at face value—especially one as dangerous as this. His instincts told him he was being watched, though the silence pressed in like a heavy blanket, broken only by his own breath.
He scanned the shadows, his senses sharp and alert. Nothing stirred. No signs of movement, no shifting shadows. The quiet was almost too perfect, but he knew better than to relax just because things seemed clear. Places like this had a way of hiding threats in plain sight.
Leon stayed crouched for another moment, listening intently. When no danger presented itself, he slowly straightened up, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the vast space before him. It was pitch-black, the light from his small torch barely cutting through the gloom.
His boots crunched softly against the stone as he moved, his gaze darting between the ruins scattered ahead. The deeper he ventured, the more the walls seemed to stretch away into the darkness, vast and empty, yet still brimming with the potential of something more.
He swept his light across the ground, searching for anything worth taking. Bits of broken machinery lay scattered here and there—nothing extraordinary at first glance, but Leon had a way of finding value where others saw junk. He knelt down, sifting through a pile of debris.
"Hm," he murmured, lifting a small, twisted piece of metal. "Could use this."
He pocketed the scrap and moved further into the space. The deeper he went, the stranger it became.
At first, it was just the stillness that felt off—the kind of silence that pressed against his ears, making every small sound seem amplified. His boots crunched against the stone, the soft scrape of metal and debris the only noise that broke the silence.
But as he moved deeper, something else hit him.
A smell. Faint at first, just barely noticeable—a sharp, acrid scent lingering in the air. Leon wrinkled his nose, his brow furrowing. "What is that?" he muttered to himself, though it wasn't strong enough to stop him. Just an annoyance, like the ruins themselves were giving off an old, stagnant breath.
He kept moving, his light flicking across more piles of debris. Twisted metal, shattered consoles, rusted parts. All useless at first glance, but Leon had learned to spot potential where others saw junk. He knelt again, rifling through another pile, his fingers brushing over bits of scrap, the sulfuric smell growing stronger with each passing moment.
"That's getting worse," he muttered, glancing up from his work, but the space around him remained still. The air hung heavy, pressing down on him like a weight, but he shrugged it off, focusing on the task at hand. "Maybe it's some old chemical leak... or worse."
He snorted at the thought, amused at his own grim humor, and continued to sift through the debris. His hand closed around a small, cylindrical object buried beneath the rubble. It was heavier than he expected, the material unfamiliar, but it gleamed faintly in the dim light.
"Huh, not bad," he mused aloud, turning it over in his hand. "Wonder what you were used for." He gave the object one last look before slipping it into his pack. Whatever it was, it was in better condition than anything else he'd found so far.
Leon stood up, the faint scent of sulfur now a constant presence, though it wasn't unbearable. Not yet.
"Definitely something off about this place," he said, scanning the room again. The darkness felt thicker, like the shadows were closing in. But no movement, no sound. "Couldn't just be some chemical spill. Feels... wrong."
The words echoed in the silence, his voice swallowed up by the ruins. He shook his head, muttering to himself. "Gotta be my imagination. Place is playing tricks on me."
Despite the growing sense of unease, Leon pressed forward. The deeper he went, the more the air felt oppressive. Not just the smell—it was the feeling, that constant gnawing at the back of his mind, like he was being watched.
He wiped his brow, the sulfuric air making it harder to breathe now, but he wasn't ready to stop. "Whatever's causing this, I'm gonna find it. Gotta be something deeper in," he said.