The scrap heap, as the residents of Fracture called it, was where Nova City's trash ended up, delivered by massive autonomous vehicles that dumped their loads in one convenient spot.
A sprawling landscape of discarded technology and raw materials stretched towards the sky and beyond the horizon. Towering piles of outdated shells lay scattered, their once shining metal bodies now rusted and shattered. Mechanical limbs jutted out of the scrap heap, some still twitching with residues of power.
The smell of melting plastics and battery acid hung thick in the air, assaulting Ryne's senses and triggering a slight gag in his throat. A low hum, like the dying breath of the discarded technology, added to the eerie atmosphere.
In the distance, a figure moved deftly among the wreckage. The scavenger's hands worked quickly, keenly selecting parts from the rubble with a speed that only someone who knew this place like the back of their hand could achieve.
A giant of a Shell stood by them, its massive frame casting a long shadow. Its glowing eyes swept over the scene, scanning the heap for anything that might pose a threat to its master.
"Maira!" Ryne called, his voice echoing through the desolate expanse.
The scavenger paused and turned around. Covered in black cloth from head to foot, Maira lowered her hood, revealing the long cascade of dark brown hair that flowed down her back, a stark contrast against the surrounding grime. Her sharp, calculating eyes locked onto mine, and I could almost see the shift in her face from concentration to recognition.
"Ryne?" She blinked, sounding almost surprised, though she quickly masked it with a casual grin. "Ryne! Been a minute. You here to help me again, or are you just here for the show?"
Ryne laughed, stepping over a pile of discarded tech. "You know I wouldn't miss it. What's the latest disaster this time?"
Maira motioned to the contraption in front of her, her tone already slipping into that technical rhythm she got when she was excited about something.
"Disaster? Since when is my work disastrous? I need help with this." She pointed to a red metal box, tapping it lightly as though it were an old friend.
"What is it?" He asked, squinting at the unfamiliar object.
"Freshly outdated—" Maira paused, then rolled her eyes. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand, anyway. Just help me lift the safety panel to expose the core."
"Safety panel? Core? That… uh… doesn't sound safe?" I teased, already regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth.
"Relax, Ryne," Maira said with a smirk, though her eyes were serious. "It's perfectly safe. We just need to ensure the core remains undamaged. Let's hope it's already intact, but don't worry about that, okay?"
Ryne flinched. The tools in his hands froze as he thought about the potentially explosive nature of their actions.
"Right, because thinking about the danger only makes it worse." Ryne shook his head, barred his teeth, and held the crowbar-like tools tightly.
"You'll be fine. Just listen to me closely and you'll get back home to Cassie," Maira muttered, turning her attention back to B3-B0, who stood silently by like an obedient bodyguard.
Ryne worked the tools into the panel's seams, and a low beep sounded, sharp and insistent, filling the air with a tension that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Maira, however, didn't even flinch. Her eyes remained focused on the device, like a bird of prey waiting for the perfect moment.
Inside the box, a glowing, egg-shaped crystal pulsed with contained energy, its sharp edges glimmering in the faint light. Thin metal tendrils wrapped around it, humming with power.
"Alright, we've got a live one here," Ryne said, trying to lighten the mood as he glanced over at Maira. She was already pulling heavy-duty gloves from B3-B0's storage compartment, slipping them on with precise, practiced movements.
"Watch and learn," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching up. "This is how you do it."
With barely a second thought, with one fluid motion, she slid her gloved hands under the panel and extracted the core; her face set in a mask of determination. It was always like this with her—calm, unflinching, as if everything was just another puzzle waiting to be solved.
"You can let go now," she said, her tone softer now that the work was done. "We're finished."
Ryne eased the tools out, the box hissing lightly as the tension from within released.
"So, what exactly did we just do?" He asked, still trying to process the glowing object now wrapped up and tucked safely in B3-B0's storage compartment.
Maira was already fiddling with the items in the Shell's interior, her mind a thousand miles away. "We just removed an experimental power cube," she explained absently. "The creator intended it to be a rechargeable energy source, but the damn thing was too unstable. I need it for a project. It should be fine, as long as I don't connect it to anything that matters."
"Unstable? And we're just carting it around like it's a toaster? How unstable?" Ryne raised an eyebrow, my concern real, though he knew he wouldn't get a straight answer.
"Not important. Just trust me." She waved it off, her eyes flicking to mine, as if daring me to challenge her. "Anything else, or did you just come to stare at my work?"
Ryne chuckled, trying to hide how much he appreciated her unwavering confidence in her abilities. "Brad said you've missed me." He let the words hang in the air, knowing it would get a rise out of her.
She lowered her face, the darkness of the looming night casting a shadow over her. Her eyes narrowed with mock annoyance when she lifted her head. "That idiot doesn't know the first thing about what I feel. He doesn't even know how to wire a circuit properly."
"Still sounds like a 'yes' to me," Ryne teased, nudging her gently.
"Ugh, you're impossible," Maira muttered, but her cheeks had flushed slightly. She glanced down, fiddling with her tools, clearly trying to hide her reaction.
He grinned, pretending not to notice. "Maybe I heard him wrong."
"You definitely did," she replied, her voice a little too defensive to be casual.
They stood there in silence for a moment, both unsure how to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness that had settled between them. Ryne shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of the silence. Their dynamic remained as it had always been—comfortable, yet always on the edge of something deeper.
"Anyway," Ryne said, breaking the silence, "I should get going. It's getting late. Thanks for the shirt, though. I'll let you know if it helps."
"Oh, you're wearing it?" Her tone softened, and she glanced at me, a hint of pride in her voice. "That was one of my better finds. Glad it's useful."
"Yeah, well, it's kind of perfect for what I've been dealing with."
"Good," she said, her eyes flickering briefly to the ground. "And, uh... give Cassie my regards, okay?"
Ryne paused, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. "You've met her once. She probably doesn't even remember your name."
"Ryne," she groaned, but I saw the playful glint in her eyes.
"Fine," He said with a chuckle, turning to leave. "I'll tell her you say hi."
As Ryne walked away, the cold air biting at his skin, he couldn't shake the feeling that, despite everything—despite the machines, the tech, and the mess they both constantly found ourselves in—Maira was a part of something he couldn't quite define. There was more to her than just a brilliant engineer, and maybe one day he'd figure out exactly what that was.
Ryne's dilapidated house, nestled in the heart of this wasteland, awaited him like a grim reminder of everything he had to face. The lights flickered behind dirty windows, casting erratic shadows on the walls, creating an eerie ambiance, as though the house itself were alive.
Or, perhaps, undead.
The creaking floorboards echoed under his feet as he entered, and the familiar sense of dread washed over him. Every room felt like it was closing in, suffocating him the palpable rage further within.
As he rounded the corner, a figure stood waiting—nostrils flared, eyes cold and unforgiving.