After a while, the group moved in tense silence as the forest thinned into a rocky expanse. Max limped heavily, his injury slowing them down despite his insistence that he was fine. Each step he took seemed labored, and sweat beaded on his forehead, betraying the fever starting to grip him.
"We need to stop," Nia said firmly, glancing at Max. "He's burning up."
Max groaned. "I'm fine. Just keep moving."
"No, you're not," Leo said sharply. He pointed to a small hollow in the rocks ahead. "We'll rest there."
Reluctantly, Max let himself be guided to the makeshift shelter. As soon as they sat, he collapsed against the stone, his face pale and clammy. The wound on his leg was red and swollen, and the veins around it looked darker than they should. Nia swore under her breath.
"This isn't good," she muttered. "We don't have anything to treat that infection."
Leo knelt beside Max, his hand twitching. That's when he felt it—the faint pulse from the strange wristlet still clasped to his arm. It was subtle, almost like a heartbeat, and it seemed to sync with the rhythm of Max's labored breaths.
"What is that?" Nia asked, noticing the faint glow emanating from the device.
"I don't know," Leo admitted, his voice hushed. He leaned closer to Max, his eyes narrowing as the glow intensified. For a moment, he thought he saw faint, glowing tendrils around Max's wound—thin wisps of light that flickered like a mirage.
"What the hell are you doing?" Nia snapped as Leo pressed his hand against Max's leg. "Hey!"
Max whimpered in pain. Nia tried to push Leo away when she saw her other friend crying, but Leo fought back. Something inside him, as if instinctively, told him he should continue.
The wristlet flared. Again, Leo felt the pain throughout his body, just like before, when he used the gun against the Sentinel.
Max's body jolted slightly, and a soft glow spread over his leg, seeping into the wound. The infection receded before their eyes, the redness fading to a pale pink. Max's breathing evened out, and his fever seemed to vanish in an instant.
Max blinked groggily, looking between Leo and his leg. "What just happened?"
"I don't know," Leo said, pulling his hand back. The glow from the wristlet dimmed, but its faint warmth lingered on his skin.
Nia stared at him, suspicion clear on her face. "You don't know? That thing just healed him! How the heck?"
Leo avoided her gaze, standing abruptly. "We need to keep moving. Max can walk now."
The rest of the day passed cautiously. Max moved with more ease, though he was quieter than usual. They had to sleep inside a tree trunk. By morning, the group followed back roads and less-traveled paths to avoid the patrols they knew were combing the area.
As they approached the supply cache Lexi had directed them to, tension hung heavy in the air. The settlement was eerily silent, its crumbling buildings casting long shadows in the afternoon light. They moved quickly, gathering what they could—half-rusted tools, a few intact cans of food, and a small stash of batteries.
"This'll do," Nia said, slipping a battery into her pack. "Let's head back."
"Wait," Leo said, his eyes scanning the area. "We should check that building. There might be more."
Nia raised an eyebrow. "Feeling brave now, are we?"
Leo didn't respond, pushing ahead. Max followed, still limping slightly, though the infection was gone. Inside the building, they found a box of medical supplies—a rare treasure—and added it to their haul.
Leo couldn't shake the feeling that the wristlet was changing him. It wasn't just the healing—it was the way it seemed to react to his thoughts, as if it could sense his intentions. He looked at a small object on the ground while he was closing his backpack. Holding his hand near the small piece of wood, he felt a weird noise, but mostly inside his head, like a faint hum that seemed to resonate through his arm. Leo's breaths were rapid and he distanced his hand from the object.
'Maybe it is reacting to the wood?', he thought. While Nia was still taking a final look around, Leo searched for another object and found a piece of plastic. Again, the same thing, and the glow also returned briefly, like an acknowledgment.
"Let's go," Nia said and Leo got up, nodding and following her.
"Hey," Nia said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You've been quiet."
"Just… thinking," Leo replied.
"About what?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
Leo hesitated. "The camp. I don't know if this is enough to make a difference."
"We'll manage," she said. "We always do."
They walked in silence, until Max was again with a pained face.
"What 's it?" Leo asked and Max shook his head. "Is it bad again?"
Nia crouched down and took a look at Max's leg and raised her head to Leo.
"Whatever that thing did to him," she gestured to the metallic wristlet still glowing faintly on Leo's arm, "It's only a temporary fix."
"We have to keep moving," Max said and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "If my leg is gonna go shit again, we have to move our asses before it gets worse."
"I don't trust it," Nia muttered, getting up with a sour expression. "Whatever that thing is, it's not natural."
Leo didn't respond. The truth was, he didn't trust it either. But without it, Max wouldn't have made it this far. He flexed his fingers, the faint warmth of the wristlet still lingering as if alive, its glow barely noticeable in the dimming light.
As they trudged forward, the harshness of the world around them pressed in. The ground was cracked and barren, littered with fragments of broken machinery and rusted metal. Trees, or what was left of them, were skeletal outlines against the horizon, their twisted forms a testament to the planet's slow decay. The air carried a faint metallic tang, the byproduct of decades of resource extraction and failed terraforming experiments.
"We're close," Nia said, breaking the silence. "Just past that ridge."
But as they climbed the last hill overlooking the camp, a sense of dread settled over them. Smoke curled into the sky, its dark tendrils stark against the fading daylight. The air carried the faint echoes of shouts and the sharp clang of metal on metal.
"You hear that?" Leo asked, his voice tight.
Nia's eyes narrowed. "Sounds like a fight."
Max swayed slightly, his pack slipping from his shoulder. "You've gotta be kidding me. We can't even catch a break for one day?"
They pushed forward, the fatigue in their bodies forgotten as adrenaline took hold. When the camp came into view, their worst fears were realized. Two Sentinels loomed near the gates, their metallic frames shining dully in the twilight. Hunters swarmed the perimeter, their movements sharp and coordinated as they clashed with the camp's defenders.
The settlement's makeshift defenses were holding, but barely. Survivors with scavenged weapons threw themselves into the fray, desperation etched into every swing and cry. Near the gate, a group of defenders was pinned down, struggling to fend off the advancing Hunters.
One of the Sentinels stood still, its head tilted upward as if scanning or transmitting data.
Leo's wristlet flared briefly, its glow pulsating in time with the chaos before them. He clenched his hand instinctively, feeling the now-familiar hum radiate up his arm.