The scrapyard had grown eerily silent since the Syndicate attack, the kind of silence that only lingers after a battle. Despite the calm, the remnants of the assault were everywhere. Blackened drone shells, charred barricades, and the faint, acrid smell of melted circuitry bore witness to their hard-fought defense. The team had repelled the Syndicate's forces, but everyone knew that the battle had been a prelude, not the climax.
Ethan stood at the top of a makeshift watchtower, his silhouette framed by the dim neon haze of Neo Arcadia-2's distant skyline. The sprawling city glittered, a sea of lights that masked its ruthless underbelly. From here, the city looked beautiful, but Ethan knew better. Neo Arcadia-2 was a labyrinth of power plays, alliances, and betrayals—a city where the strong thrived, and the weak were erased.
His Interface glowed faintly, displaying a holographic map of the scrapyard and its surrounding areas. Red markers dotted the screen, representing the last known positions of Syndicate forces. For now, the markers weren't moving, but Ethan knew that wouldn't last. The Syndicate was regrouping, and they wouldn't underestimate his team again.
Behind him, Rhea's voice cut through the stillness. "I finished running diagnostics on the energy barriers. Eastern perimeter's stable, but we've got a vulnerability in the northwest sector. If they send anything heavier than drones next time, it'll buckle."
Ethan turned, his face illuminated by the faint glow of his Interface. "How much time do we have to patch it?"
Rhea crossed her arms, leaning against the ladder. "A day, maybe two. Depends on how quickly they regroup. Shade's tracking their fallback point, but we're on borrowed time."
Ethan nodded. "We'll reinforce it today. Use the plating from the destroyed drones."
Rhea raised an eyebrow. "Repurposing Syndicate tech? Bold."
"Necessary," Ethan said. "We don't have the luxury of waiting for perfect materials. Work with Briggs to get it done."
Rhea sighed but nodded. "Fine. But if this collapses under pressure, you owe me a drink."
Garret's booming voice echoed from below. "If anyone's getting drinks, it's me. I'm hauling enough scrap to build another turret out here."
Ethan smirked faintly. "Then stop complaining and get back to work."
Garret muttered something under his breath but resumed hauling crates of salvaged plating toward the northwest barricade. His grumbling was loud enough to fill the scrapyard, a strange comfort in the otherwise tense atmosphere.
Shade emerged from the shadows near the workshop, moving with his usual ghost-like precision. "The Syndicate's regrouping at an outpost west of Neo Arcadia-2. They've pulled back most of their units for now, but I've intercepted chatter. They're planning something."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "What kind of something?"
"Supplies," Shade replied. "They've got a convoy moving through the western trade routes. Heavy security, high-value cargo."
Rhea tilted her head. "Tech? Reinforcements?"
"Possibly both," Shade said. "If they're preparing for another assault, this convoy is part of their strategy."
Ethan leaned against the railing, his mind racing. The convoy presented both an opportunity and a risk. If they intercepted it, they could cripple the Syndicate's preparations and secure valuable resources. But a direct attack would expose them, leaving the scrapyard vulnerable to retaliation.
Garret approached, wiping sweat from his brow. "You're thinking about hitting it, aren't you?"
"We have to consider it," Ethan said. "If we let them stockpile resources, the next wave will be worse than the last."
"And if we get caught in the middle of it?" Rhea asked. "They'll flatten us before we can regroup."
"That's why we don't engage directly," Ethan said. "We observe first. Shade, keep tracking their movements. If we see an opening, we'll move. For now, we focus on reinforcing the scrapyard."
Shade nodded and disappeared into the shadows without another word.
The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Rhea and Briggs worked on reinforcing the northwest barrier, welding salvaged plating into place and recalibrating the energy conduits. Sparks flew as they worked, the sound of machinery filling the scrapyard. Garret hauled supplies, his heavy boots crunching against the dirt as he grumbled about the weight of the crates.
Ethan remained in the workshop, his hands steady as he refined the blueprint for a new defensive turret. The design incorporated elements from the destroyed Syndicate drones, adapting their advanced targeting systems for his own use. His Interface chimed softly as the schematic updated, displaying the turret's specifications.
[Blueprint Completed: Advanced Modular Turret.]
Attributes:
• Enhanced tracking and targeting.
• Capable of adapting to aerial and ground threats.
Resources Required: Advanced Circuitry (x3), Rare Alloy Fragments (x4).
Ethan stepped back, inspecting the prototype with a critical eye. It wasn't perfect, but it was a step forward. If they could integrate these upgrades into the scrapyard's defenses, they'd stand a better chance against the Syndicate's next assault.
Rhea entered the workshop, wiping grease from her hands. "Barrier's patched. It'll hold, for now."
"Good," Ethan said. "What about the turrets?"
"Two are operational, but the third needs a new targeting module. We're running low on alloy fragments."
"Then we prioritize," Ethan said. "Focus on covering the weakest points."
Rhea glanced at the blueprint on his Interface. "You've been busy. Think this'll work?"
"It has to," Ethan replied. "If we're going to survive, we need more than just firepower. We need strategy."
"And what's the strategy for the convoy?" Rhea asked.
Ethan's expression hardened. "We wait for Shade's report. If we see an opening, we take it."
By nightfall, the scrapyard was quieter, but the tension remained. The team gathered near the central console, reviewing their progress and planning the next steps. Shade returned with new intel, his expression unreadable as always.
"The convoy's moving tomorrow night," Shade said. "Three transports, heavily armed escorts. They're sticking to the main route, but the rival faction's territory overlaps with part of their path."
Garret raised an eyebrow. "Rival faction?"
"Mercenaries," Shade replied. "They've been raiding Syndicate supply lines for weeks. If they hit the convoy, it'll give us an opening."
"And if they don't?" Rhea asked.
"Then we make one," Ethan said.
The holographic map displayed the convoy's route, highlighting potential choke points and ambush zones. Ethan studied it carefully, marking areas where they could move without drawing attention.
"We don't engage unless we have to," Ethan said. "Let the mercenaries draw the Syndicate's fire. Once the convoy's vulnerable, we move in and take what we need."
Garret smirked. "Sounds simple enough."
"It won't be," Shade said. "The Syndicate's security is tight. We'll need to be fast and precise."
"Then we don't leave anything to chance," Ethan said. "Rhea, monitor their comms for any changes in the route. Briggs, prep the transport vehicle. Garret, make sure we're armed and ready."
"And me?" Shade asked.
Ethan met his gaze. "You'll lead the recon. Stay close but out of sight. If anything goes wrong, we'll need your eyes on the ground."
Shade nodded. "Understood."
As the team dispersed, Ethan remained by the console, his gaze fixed on the map. The convoy was a risk, but it was a calculated one. If they succeeded, it would cripple the Syndicate's plans and give the team a much-needed advantage. If they failed… there wouldn't be a scrapyard left to defend.
Ethan leaned against the console, his mind racing. The Syndicate wasn't just an enemy—they were a system, a machine designed to crush anything that threatened its dominance. To beat them, he couldn't just fight harder. He had to think smarter.
And he would.
He didn't have a choice.