The days in the wasteland passed with a deceptive calm. Kael and Mira had been riding together for nearly a week now, their route an unpredictable maze of dunes, jagged rock formations, and the occasional remnants of forgotten civilizations. They avoided settlements where Consortium agents or bounty hunters might be waiting, choosing instead the harsh but safer desolation of the open lands.
Kael worked tirelessly on his crawler every evening, modifying its systems to better withstand the wear and tear of their escape. Mira, in contrast, spent her time studying old maps, scouting the terrain, and keeping an ever-watchful eye on the horizon. The growing tension between them was palpable—an unspoken understanding that this momentary quiet wouldn't last.
One evening, the two set up camp in a rocky outcrop, using the natural cover to shield themselves from prying eyes and the unrelenting wind. The air was cooler than usual, and the horizon glowed faintly with the light of a distant storm. Kael sat atop his crawler, carefully soldering a circuit into the control unit of a small drone. Beside him were various parts: salvaged rotors, a compact power cell, and a camera module he had scavenged days earlier.
Below, Mira busied herself with assembling their modest camp. She cleared debris, set up a small fire, and positioned herself in a way that allowed her to watch all angles. Her Consortium training was evident—every movement deliberate, every decision calculated.
"You've been quiet," Mira finally said, breaking the silence. She leaned against the side of the crawler, her arms crossed as she watched him work.
"Thinking," Kael replied without looking up.
"About what?"
"About how to keep us alive," he said matter-of-factly. He tested the drone's rotors, which hummed faintly before sputtering out.
"You're always thinking about that," Mira said, sitting on a nearby rock. "Haven't you come up with a dozen contingency plans by now?"
Kael smirked, but his eyes remained on his work. "Contingency plans are only as good as the information you have. And right now, we don't know enough."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "What don't we know? The Consortium is coming. They won't stop until they get what they want. Isn't that enough?"
Kael paused his tinkering and turned to face her. "It's enough to keep us moving. But if we want to end this, we need leverage. Something they fear losing more than they want what we have."
"And you think we'll find that out here?"
"I don't know," Kael admitted. "But I know we won't find it by running forever."
Mira studied him, her expression unreadable. "You're not like anyone I've worked with before," she said after a moment.
Kael chuckled dryly. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't meant to be," she replied, though her lips twitched into a faint smile.
The two fell into a silence that was neither tense nor entirely comfortable. Mira watched as Kael returned to his drone, his movements precise and focused. She noticed, not for the first time, how he worked with an efficiency that spoke of experience, yet there was a rawness to him—a reminder that he wasn't a soldier or a professional engineer. He was a scavenger, a survivor, someone who had learned through necessity rather than training.
"What's your plan, then?" Mira asked after a while.
Kael didn't look up. "What plan?"
"The one for the Hounds," she said.
Kael set down his tools and gave her a sharp look. "That's assuming we survive long enough to need one."
Mira scoffed. "You're way too smart to not have a plan. Don't play coy with me."
Kael sighed and leaned back against the crawler, his gaze shifting to the fire below. "The plan is simple: delay them, misdirect them, and pick them off when they're vulnerable. Anything more complicated than that is a gamble we can't afford."
"Practical. I like it," Mira said. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "But you're assuming they'll play by the rules."
Kael laughed quietly. "I'm assuming they'll underestimate us. They already have. That's the only reason we're still alive."
Mira tilted her head. "And when they stop underestimating us?"
Kael's expression darkened. "Then we make them regret it."
The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows on the rocks. Above, the stars began to emerge, their cold, distant light a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the day. The wasteland stretched endlessly around them, a reminder of the vast emptiness that defined their world.
"Do you ever wonder what's out there?" Mira asked suddenly.
Kael glanced at her. "Out where?"
"Beyond this," she said, gesturing to the desolate landscape. "The Consortium, the blanks, all of it. Do you think there's more?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared into the fire, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of indifference. Finally, he said, "Wondering doesn't change anything. This is the world we live in."
"But it doesn't have to be," Mira said softly. "There's more out there. I know there is. I've seen it. And I think... I think we could find it."
Kael looked at her, his expression unreadable. "If that world exists, it won't come to us. We'll have to fight for it."
Mira nodded. "Then maybe it's time we stop running and start fighting."
Kael's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Maybe."
For a long while, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The fire burned low, and the night grew colder, but neither of them moved. They both knew the storm was coming, and when it did, there would be no turning back.
But for now, in the calm before the storm, they allowed themselves this fleeting moment of peace.