The sun cast a soft pink hue, painting long morning shadows across the ruins of Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Buildings, once proud and tall, now bore battle scars, their fa?ades pockmarked with darkened scorch marks

  From our vantage point in the townhouse, the city's destruction seemed almost artistic in a haunting sort of way. Like the universe had painted a picture of how fragile our existence could be.

  Dad, Jae, and I approached the battered semi-truck, a rusty old Ford I'd spent countless hours fixing. Despite peeling paint and squeaky brakes, it remained reliable. Dad and Jae quickly loaded essential tools, food, and water, cautious not to overload. As they worked, an engine rumbled nearby, drawing my attention to a beat-up Jeep kicking up dust down the street. It had oversized tires and reinforced metal plates.

  The sound of another vehicle caught my attention, and I squinted down the street to see a beat-up Jeep rattling its way toward us, kicking up dust in its wake. It was fitted with large tires and reinforced steel plates along its flanks.

  The Jeep pulled up beside us, and two familiar figures hopped out. The first was a tall man with broad shoulders. His skin was a rich dark brown, contrasting sharply with the white streaks that ran through his buzzed salt and pepper black hair. He wore a leather jacket over a faded metal band tee and metal dog tags, and his jeans were ripped at the knee. Though etched with lines of age and stress, his face had a rugged handsomeness. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had seen his fair share of battles, and his eyes held a depth of wisdom and perseverance that reflected his years.

  "Morning, all," he greeted, his deep voice resonating with a calm assurance. "Ready to roll?"

  "Ready as ever," Dad replied, patting Blake on the back. "Let's get this show on the road."

  Blake simply grunted and smirked at us with a glint in his eyes.

  Behind Blake, Alex emerged—a sharp contrast to the grizzled veteran. Slim and wiry, with sharp angular features and messy black hair, Alex wore a duster coat over a simple black tee. His quiet, introspective nature concealed fierce loyalty.

  He was in his mid-twenties and had a serious expression on his face. His eyes were intense, betraying a deep intelligence beneath the surface. There was an air of quiet contemplation about him, a sense of introspection that only added to his enigmatic nature.

  But he'd been a bit of an older brother figure to me and my sister, and he'd often come over to help out with odd jobs and hang out. He'd also taught me how to use a pistol and a rifle.

  Alex and I had become close over the years, and I knew that despite his reserved demeanor, he cared deeply for those around him.

  "Yo, Ikki. Zane." Alex called out, his voice breaking the early morning quiet.

  I nodded in acknowledgment, and Dad smiled broadly.

  "Morning, Alex," I waved back.

  "Good to see you, son," Dad said, extending a hand to Alex.

  Alex returned the handshake, his grip firm and steady. "Likewise, sir," he responded, his voice steady as he looked over at Dad, his eyes scanning the older man's face. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

  "Born ready, kid," Dad chuckled, slapping Alex on the shoulder.

  Blake approached me, his boots crunching on the gravel as he extended a fist in greeting. I bumped it with my own, and he grinned. "Ready to dive into the unknown, Kid?"

  I grinned back, matching his energy. "Always, old man."

  Dad and Alex shared a knowing look, and we all laughed, the tension of the early morning melting away. It was good to have familiar faces around on a mission like this, and I knew we could count on each other when things got tough.

  "Alright, team," Dad said, clapping his hands. "Let's go over the game plan one last time. We'll split into two groups. Jae will take the east side over at Hunt's Point with me and my son, while Blake and Alex will cover the west."

  Jae winked at me, "Looks like you are stuck with us today."

  I grinned back, trying to mask the jitters starting to set in.

  "Eheh," I laughed nervously. "Just keep me out of trouble, alright guys?"

  Alex smirked, "I'm certain it won't be an issue."

  Dad cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to the task at hand. "Remember, we're not looking for any heroics. Stay focused, stay alert, and don't take any unnecessary risks. The most important thing is getting in and out of there safely. There's a big haul of Chaos cores waiting out there, and we've been promised a cut, but remember that's secondary to getting info on the food processing facilities and docks. We want to get goods flowing in from the rivers as soon as we can."

  We all nodded, sobering up.

  "This city has seen enough death," Blake said, his voice heavy with emotion. "Let's not add ourselves to the list."

  Dad nodded. "Apparently the skirt that saved you three and my daughter the other day was some kinda bigshot. She swept over the entire area and rooted out the beasts pretty thoroughly, but that's probably gonna invite more third parties. For better or for worse."

  Jae spoke up, "Remember, Ikki. It's just like the surveying runs we did back in Pennsylvania and Jersey, but a little scarier. Stick with us, and you'll be fine."

  "Alright," Dad clapped his hands together, "Let's load up and head out. Jae will take shotgun while I drive. The rest of you will be in the back of the truck. Keep your eyes peeled."

  I nodded, climbing into the back of the truck. The reinforced plating I'd welded on was holding up well, but I could already see the beginnings of rust forming in the corners. I'd have to fix that up when we got back. We'd been shot at by raiders in Jersey, and the plating was a lifesaver. It might just save our lives in the future as well.

  I settled in, the weight of the journey ahead settling on my shoulders like a lead blanket. The truck's engine roared to life, its vibrations reverberating through my body. As we pulled away from our new home, I couldn't help but glance back, a mix of apprehension and determination swirling in my chest.

  Izumi looked at us from the window, her eyes fixed on our truck as Alex and Blake hopped into the back of the truck. I waved goodbye, and she hesitantly waved back. The sun cast a soft golden glow on her face, and she looked as glamorous as she always was. I didn't remember my mother all that well, but I remembered how happy she'd always made me. And Izumi always tried to do the same for me. She looked like a miniature version of our mother, albeit far from the graceful and ladylike woman our dad always told us about.

  I could tell she was anxious about this mission, but if the Brotherhood was present like Elio suspected, then I couldn't risk bringing her along. I knew that if anything happened to us, Doctor Hinokawa would take care of her. And if not, I knew her stubborn ass wouldn't go quietly into the night.

  I glanced at her again, offering a reassuring smile. She nodded back, clutching her locket tightly. Then, she smiled back and gave me a cheeky thumbs up.

  I chuckled softly, shaking my head. She was a tough one, and I was sure she'd be fine. She had the same fighting spirit our father and I did, and I knew that no matter what happened, she'd survive. We'd all survive.

  I stepped to the back of the truck, raising the metal shutter halfway. Blake and Alex settled in, their expressions a mixture of excitement and trepidation. We shared a knowing look, acknowledging the risks we were taking and the potential dangers that awaited us in the ruins of North End.

  Izumi's face disappeared as we turned a corner, and I sighed, my thoughts shifting back to the task at hand. The mission was straightforward, but the stakes were high. We had to be on our guard, ready for anything. The city had been reclaimed by nature and overrun by chaos beasts, and the remnants of civilization were scattered like forgotten memories.

  I remembered the stories Dad always told me about how it all began. The swift, crippling fall of global trade rippled like a domino effect, touching every part of the world. While there were no grand explosions or an immediate descent into chaos and bedlam, the slow crumble of society's infrastructure was even more terrifying.

  Goods stopped moving, essential services ceased, and trust in any form of governance dwindled to historic lows. And then came the local power vacuums, the infighting, the desperate struggle for resources as paramilitary groups set up small fiefdoms and separatist states. Fortunately for Izumi and me, the United States was relatively prepared for the collapse of a globalized economy due to its overwhelming native resources, and relative lack of international dependence. The idea that external trade only accounted for roughly a fifth of the country's economy while some former Great Powers relied on trade for fifty to seventy percent of their economic output was a sobering reminder of how fragile the world once was. But the U.S. had been lucky.

  I couldn't imagine what had happened to island nations like Taiwan and the Netherlands, or the former Republic of Korea.

  Dad had told me that even though the States were able to hold on better than others, the loss of trade and key transport hubs still caused major riots and a massive breakdown in supply and logistics.

  Doctor Hinokawa had been unusually obsessed with books written by people like Halford Mackinder and Alfred Thayer Mahan, and always rambled to me about everything from geopolitics to thought experiments in physics as soon as I was old enough to understand him.

  Despite the upheaval, the public school system stayed afloat thanks to the efforts of dedicated educators and volunteers. But the curriculum was a far cry from the comprehensive education of pre-collapse times. Subjects like advanced math, foreign languages, and science were often neglected in favor of survival skills and practical emergency knowledge. I was lucky, though. I had a good friend and mentor in Doctor Hinokawa who taught me a lot about what it was like to be an actual scientist and physician. However, his true love was history, diplomacy and the human condition.

  Dad was certainly glad he had Doctor Hinokawa there to answer all my incessant "Why?" questions, since he could never answer them himself. He had a good, strong back, was handy with tools, and had a solid heart. He even studied mechanical engineering in college and had a solid understanding of the world with strong instincts, but he wasn't the walking encyclopedia and calculator that Uncle Elio was. He wasn't the kind of person who'd know how to answer a question about how the planet was formed or why a leaf was green, let alone why a country was doing what it was doing or how to perform open heart surgery. That had always been Elio, and Elio was always the guy with the answers.

  The drive to North End was quiet and strangely peaceful, all things considered.

  The roads were lined with abandoned cars, like metal ghosts of the world that was. These cars had been witnesses to panic, to flight, to the last-ditch efforts of people trying to find a way out. Now they were nothing more than rusting monuments, a reminder of the fragility of humanity's progress. Early cleanup efforts had been focused on key transportation routes like the FDR, the West Side Highway and the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. But there were still cars, trucks, and other vehicles scattered around, their windows smashed or their doors hanging open.

  Nature was reclaiming the city, slowly but surely. Ivy and other climbing plants were starting to snake their way up the sides of buildings, while trees sprouted from the pavement, their roots breaking through the concrete like determined fingers. The presence of so many chaos beast corpses would naturally speed up regional entropic decay, but that would also serve to create valuable resources for the reclamation efforts. It was a morbid, but also a mixed blessing at the end of the day. The air had a different quality to it, too — a mix of dampness from the nearby rivers, the musty scent of long-abandoned structures, and the faint, metallic tang of magic lingering in the atmosphere.

  Blake took a deep breath as we passed a rusted playground, reminiscing wistfully with a rumbling baritone.

  "I loved this place, ya know. I was planning to come back and visit for the first time since college, right as the Chaos War broke out. I wanted to see the sights, enjoy some new jazz clubs that'd popped up. Funny how things turned out."

  I nodded, my eyes following the path of destruction that marked the once-booming skyline. Twisted rebar and shattered windows resembled open mouths, mute witnesses to the devastation. "I don't remember it clearly, but my dad used to talk about it all the time. He grew up in Queens and went through the Specialized High School system and Columbia. He said it was a city unlike any other - full of vibrant lights, endless activity, and a melting pot of cultures. He always described it as... the pulse of the world? It's surreal to think that something so... permanent, can just vanish in an instant."

  Alex looked at me, a distant gaze in his eyes as if he was peering through a window into a different time. "It's hard to wrap your head around it. We're not built to comprehend large-scale changes like this. Our brains are wired to deal with the here and now, not the idea of entire cities crumbling to dust.

  "It still is," Blake murmured. "Just... different. I imagine it's still like that across the portal in Shoreline City."

  The slight creaking of the truck beneath us and the soft murmurs of my father and Jae discussing our route formed a gentle backdrop. Blake leaned back, fishing an acoustic guitar from his usual crate in Dad's truck. The guitar was worn and well-used, the wood dark and smooth from years of playing.

  "You kids mind?" he asked, holding it up and looking between me and Alex.

  I shook my head, smiling as Alex gave a curt nod. "Go ahead."

  He began to strum it gently, the sound reverberating around the truck. His fingers danced over the strings with practiced ease, the notes flowing together in a melancholic thrum. It was a simple, slow jazzy blues melody that seemed to capture the essence of the city around us - the beauty, the pain, the hope, and the despair.

  As the guitar's tune filled the air, I closed my eyes and let the melody wash over me. The gentle breeze rustled my hair, and for a moment, amidst the ruins of a once-great city, there was a brief respite from what loomed ahead.

  We passed through dilapidated neighborhoods, where brownstone buildings leaned against each other like old friends sharing stories. Once vibrant and alive, murals had faded over time, but they still told stories of resistance, love, and unity. Many structures had windows shattered and doors broken, but they still stood defiantly.

  "What do you think life was like here?" I asked Alex, opening my eyes. Curiosity burned in me as Blake strummed away. "I… I was too young when everything happened."

  Alex answered with a shrug, "Busy. Noisy. Crowded. I suppose."

  Blake, however, had a faraway look in his eyes as soon as I asked my question. "Kids, I'm going to be real for a minute. It was a city of... dreams."

  "Dreams?" Alex asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

  Blake nodded, his fingers still dancing over the strings. "Yeah. Dreams. People from all over the world, from all walks of life, came out here. They came with nothing but a suitcase, a few dollars, and an unshakeable dream in their hearts. This city was a place where dreams could become reality, or they could shatter into a million pieces. There's a reason people called New York the 'city that never sleeps.' It was always alive, always buzzing, always something happening. People chasing dreams, running from nightmares."

  His music grew a bit more melancholic. "You could be anything here. A writer, a dancer, a musician, a chef, or even a millionaire. And if you screwed up, no one cared. You could always start again, reinvent yourself. It was a place where the past was forgotten as quickly as the latest fashion trend, and everyone was too busy chasing their own dreams to care about yours. But it came at a price."

  "The price?" I asked, my eyes locked on Blake's weathered face.

  He nodded again. "A high price. It could be cold, cruel. If you failed, you were on your own. You had to be tough, or you'd be swallowed up. And yet, despite that, it was the most exciting, most thriving place on earth. I grew up dirt poor, ya know. But my parents came here from Guyana. Opened up a small shop in Brooklyn selling food from their mother country. They were happy, and they made a decent living. Far better than what they could do back where they were from. They sent me to school and bought me my first guitar. I ended up joining the army through the ROTC program and went overseas, and they passed away while I was deployed. It was a shame I couldn't see them again before they went, but life's like that. Ya gotta make the best of what you have."

  Alex's face had grown thoughtful. "I can't imagine that. My parents died when I was a kid."

  Blake nodded, his eyes misting over slightly. "It's not easy. My oldest died in the Chaos War, too. But you have to move on. Keep living. Honor their memory. They'd want that, I think. For me, for my kids, and for you two."

  The music continued, and the mood shifted. The notes became more upbeat, more hopeful. It was like Blake was trying to capture the spirit of the city in his melody - its resilience, its energy, its unyielding spirit. As he played, the ruins of the city seemed to fade away, and for a moment, I could almost hear the distant sounds of traffic, laughter, and the hum of a million lives once intertwined in the fabric of this concrete jungle.

  I looked out at the passing landscape, staring as recently settled children played in makeshift playgrounds, their laughter piercing the otherwise quiet landscape. At the same time, older adults sat on steps, watching over them, their faces etched with lines of wisdom and hardship. They knew the world had changed, but it hadn't defeated them. They were still here, still surviving.

  We passed by an old basketball court where teenagers were playing a pickup game, their shouts of triumph and frustration echoing in the still air. A few of them noticed us, pausing their game and watching as we rolled by. I waved at them, and a couple waved back, their eyes curious and guarded.

  Farther along the road, we encountered an old community garden. The once carefully tended beds were now overrun with weeds, and the wooden fence that had once protected it was collapsing. There was a large faded street mural depicting a group of teenage Magical Girls, their sharp features and vibrant hair colors standing out against the comparatively dull and ashen backdrop. The depiction was haunting and inspiring, a reminder of their incredible sacrifices to protect our world.

  In the mural, they were depicted in their usual outfits, holding hands and looking up at the sky. The colors were still vibrant, and the art was well-preserved, with only a few chipped paint spots and some dirt stains. The artist had used a mix of spray paint and acrylic paint to create the mural, and the details were impressive. It was clear that the artist had put a lot of time and effort into the piece, and it was easy to get lost in the intricate details.

  I could practically hear the sound of their footsteps, the wind rustling through their hair, and the laughter of children as they surrounded the girls. It was a beautiful tribute to the heroes that had saved us all, and I felt a swell of pride and gratitude in my chest.

  The guitar's tune faded, replaced by the deep rumble of the truck's engine and the soft murmur of conversation from the front.

  Blake set the guitar down, giving me a nod of appreciation. "Music's got a way of healing, don't it kid?" he murmured.

  I nodded, "It definitely does. Yeah. "

  Blake grinned, "Listen, kid. Whatever happens, we gotta keep holding onto that hope. You've gotta keep fighting for all the beauty that's still left in this world. You hear?"

  Before I could respond, a sudden flurry of movement caught my eye.

  On the rooftops above, I glimpsed a silhouette, the glint of bright eyes that glowed red and orange briefly reflecting the sunlight. It was a girl perched gracefully on top of an abandoned supermarket. Her long, raven-black hair billowed like a dark cloud against the sky.

  She was draped in black and red, with a red scarf and a long, flowing dark cloak billowing behind her. A black half-mask concealing the lower half of her face left only her piercing, eyes colored like a burning inferno visible. Clutched in her hand was a Buddhist pewter staff, of all things.

  At first, I thought she was a mirage, but she stared down at me in surprise. She clutched the staff tightly, almost as if she was using it to anchor herself from the winds that threatened to whisk her away.

  For a brief moment, our eyes locked, and I saw it twisted in concern.

  But as quickly as she appeared, she turned vanished from my sight, disappearing behind the rooftop.

  "Did you see that, guys?" I asked in a hushed tone.

  Blake and Alex exchanged glances. "See what?" Alex questioned.

  "A girl, on the rooftops. She had a mask and... and bright orange eyes. Almost red," I tried explaining. “I think she was Terran.”

  Blake frowned, casting a concerned look in my direction. "Could have been a lookout, or maybe a scavenger. There are folks who are moving in here, remember? Plenty of Terrans like Jae helping out here too."

  "I think she might have been a Magical Girl, honestly," I answered, rubbing the back of my neck.

  Alex shrugged, though his eyes remained watchful. "Keep an eye out, but don't let it distract you. We've got a job to do."

  The truck rumbled on, the silhouette's image etched into my mind. There was something familiar about her that tugged at the edges of my memory. Still, the feeling was fleeting, and before long, the ruins of the North End captured our full attention.

  Once a bustling borough filled with life, the South Bronx was now a skeletal remnant of its former self. Buildings, stripped of their vibrancy, stood as silent monuments to the world that was lost. Nature had begun its process of reclaiming the land, with vines snaking through the broken windows and streets cracked open to reveal sprouts of green. But amidst the desolation, there were also signs of life and resurgence. Small groups were at work along the way, clearing out debris or tending to makeshift gardens.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  As we approached the eastern part of the North End, where the warehouses and ports were I could sense the anticipation and tension building. This was uncharted territory for us, a potential goldmine of resources and a place fraught with danger.

  Dad parked the truck near an old subway entrance, its sign barely readable beneath layers of grime and graffiti. Jae began unloading the gear while Blake continued to scan the area, his eyes sharp and vigilant.

  A creaking sign caught my attention. Faded letters spelled out "Hunts Point Food Distribution Center."

  Seeing my interest, Blake ambled over, eyes squinting at the facility. "You know, this place has quite a colorful history. Even before the Chaos Beasts ravaged the city."

  "How so?" I asked, genuine curiosity evident in my tone.

  Blake began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Before the war, Hunts Point was a major hub for food distribution, taking in most of the city's food from shipments upstate and over the water. If we're gonna have any hope of repatriating folks to the city in the numbers we want, this is the kind of place we'd need to get up and running again."

  I looked around, trying to imagine trucks filled with fresh produce rolling in and out of the once-bustling facilities. "So, this place was essential for the city's survival."

  "Essential is an understatement," Blake corrected. "A major city is like a living organism, always hungry, always active. The city depended on river distribution hubs like this to keep its heartbeat going."

  "But what happened?" I asked, gesturing at the destruction surrounding us.

  Blake leaned against a metal barrier near the truck, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "Well, when the first signs of trouble broke out, places like this were hit hard. Hunts Point is close to Soundview Park. You know about the battle there?"

  I nodded slowly, remembering the stories. "Tons of Chaos Beasts were killed there and along the highway during the evac, right?"

  "Yeah," Blake sighed, his voice thick with emotion. "It was one of the biggest standoffs recorded in the Fall. The military and a few early responders from Terra tried to hold them off. A lot of people gave their lives there, trying to save the city and protect vital supply routes. They managed to rout the Aberrations, but the area became too dangerous to hold on to."

  The wind howled through the fractured buildings, causing a chilling whistle to echo through the silent streets. Blake paused, taking a moment to collect himself before continuing, "Their bodies... the bodies of the Chaos Beasts, they don’t really decompose. Not in the way you'd expect. Their biology... it's strange, all metalloid-based and magic-infused. Sometimes, taking enough of a hit makes them disintegrate. In other cases, they stay as they fall, for years, and probably longer. Then when you yank out or smash the cores, they just melt away."

  I stared at him, trying to grasp the enormity of what he described. "So, you're saying they're still out there?"

  Blake nodded, gesturing towards the distant Soundview Park. "Yes, their remains are scattered throughout the park. And with them, their Chaos cores, creating those bizarre distortions in the air. It's like a permanent mark on the city, a memorial to the battles that were waged and the lives that were lost that week."

  The realization hit me hard. We were essentially walking into a graveyard filled with the remains of monsters from another world.

  Feeling a little uneasy, I began to scan our surroundings more closely. An oppressive weight was in the air, a silence that felt deeper than usual. The sense of being watched, which I had felt earlier, now felt even more pronounced.

  Blake caught on to my unease and leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Hey, it's natural to be on edge. Especially given where we are."

  I swallowed hard, nodding in agreement. "I just… It just kinda feels like we're not alone here."

  His gaze darted around, a sharp, predatory look taking over as he scanned the horizons.

  "At ease, gentlemen," Jae chimed in. "A squad of volunteer Magical Girls has already taken a first pass. It's only been a week since their last run, but they cleaned out any roaming Chaos Beasts they could find a couple of li - erm, Terran miles out from the outskirts. However, Blake is right. That doesn't mean all the possible threats here are gone. Stay focused and alert."

  My dad nodded. "Agreed. We'll meet back here in two hours. If you find a facility in a salvageable state, mark it on your map. If not, move on. And remember," he said, locking eyes with each of us, "if you find any low-hanging fruit in Chaos Cores, bring them back. We need them."

  "Got it," I replied, feeling excitement and apprehension. I began to load up, checking over a Glock and slipping it into its holster before strapping on a machete by my side. The Swiss army knife, a gift from my dad on my tenth birthday, was in my left shoe. My flashlight, a sturdy metal cylinder that had served me well over the years, found its place in a side pouch of my backpack. Lastly, I double-checked my backpack, ensuring everything was secure and easily accessible.

  Satisfied, I looked up at my dad, who was preparing his own backpack. "Ready when you are."

  He smiled, a look of pride in his eyes, and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

  After locking up the truck, my dad, Jae, and I started our descent towards the east, weaving through narrow alleys and main roads, noting buildings that could be useful. The air was thick with the scent of rotting wood and decay, but there were also underlying notes of earth and moss.

  Jae took point, moving with a practiced ease. Even amid this desolate landscape, his posture was relaxed, each movement precise. It was evident he'd been in these situations before, and his confidence was reassuring. On the other hand, my father had a calculating look on his face, his eyes darting around, absorbing every detail.

  As we progressed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something here was a little… off.

  Shadows seemed too dark, and the few rays of sunlight piercing through the cloudy sky gave the ruins an almost dreamlike quality, casting patches of light that seemed too bright, too otherworldly.

  The further we ventured, the more I felt the weight of something pressing in on me. A strange sense of unease began to build in my chest, and I glanced over my shoulder more frequently, half-expecting to see something lurking in the shadows.

  It was during one of these moments that I saw her.

  As I turned around, entertaining my paranoia, a flicker of movement stirred my instincts. My blood ran cold as my eyes glimpsed a mysterious woman watching us.

  She stood a considerable distance away, hidden in the shadow of a crumbling brick wall. Her outfit seemed out of place amidst the devastation. It was a yukata of some sort, with dark colors and intricate patterns stark against the gray backdrop.

  But as I tried to focus on her, she seemed to blend into the shadows, like she was part of them all along. I blinked a few times, rubbing my eyes, trying to process what I had seen.

  Pushing the thought aside, I decided to stay vigilant, closely watching our surroundings as we approached the looming building in front of us. It was a large, somewhat intact food processing facility that stood out from the surrounding ruins, its walls less marred by time and destruction. Rusted from years of neglect, an old sign read "Eden Fresh Produce and Garden."

  Jae approached cautiously, pushing the entrance door gently. It creaked open, revealing a vast space filled with conveyor belts, packing machines, and shelves lined with canned goods.

  The sight was unexpected, to say the least. Though some parts of the facility had succumbed to nature, most of it remained intact.

  Dad's eyes widened in surprise. "This... this is one hell of a find."

  Jae nodded in agreement. "Yeah, if we can get this place operational again, it could serve as a primary food processing and storage unit for the entire city. We could even start growing fresh produce if the water's clean."

  As we moved further into the facility, I noticed a series of large, cylindrical tanks lining one wall. Curiosity got the better of me. "What's in the tanks?" I asked, pointing toward them.

  Jae moved closer to inspect the tanks. He brushed off a layer of dust and debris, revealing a label that read "Fertilizer."

  "I'll be damned." Dad muttered. "Airtight. Looks like granular organic fertilizer. Probably a blend of compost and various nutrients."

  Jae nodded, "This is incredible. It's like we hit the jackpot. We can definitely use this."

  My attention was drawn to a corner where a stack of crates and drums lay covered in dust. Moving closer, I brushed off the layers, revealing a branded logo on one of the canisters. I had a funny feeling in my gut and gingerly took the lid off the jar.

  "Guys!" I exclaimed, excitement clear in my voice. "These drums are filled with preserved seed packs."

  My father and Jae rushed over, their eyes widening in disbelief as they peered inside. The drums were packed with small plastic bags containing seeds of all kinds – vegetables, fruits, even grains. It was an agricultural treasure trove.

  "This is unbelievable," Jae muttered, picking up a pack of carrot seeds. "I didn't expect to see such a find.

  Suddenly, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A chill ran down my spine as I sensed a presence behind me. As I turned around slowly, I found myself making eye contact with a figure that sent shivers down my spine. Standing a little distance away was a shimmering woman in a dark blue kimono in the shadows. Though I couldn't make out much detail from my vantage point, her kimono was beautifully adorned with intricate patterns that rippled with a blur even in the dim light.

  But it was her eyes that captured my attention. They were a piercing, glowing, blue, and for a brief moment, they locked onto mine from the shadows, filled with an unspoken emotion that I couldn't quite place.

  Was it sadness? Curiosity? Or perhaps… familiarity?

  "Who are you?!" I shouted in alarm, startling both Jae and my father. I briefly looked toward my dad in a panic, but when I looked back to her, she was gone. There was no sign of her, like she had vanished into thin air.

  Both Jae and Dad looked at me, concern plastered across their expressions.

  "Ikki," Dad began, a hint of worry in his tone, "Hey, take it easy. There's nobody there."

  "I know," I replied, feeling a pang of frustration. "But someone was there, just a second ago!"

  "Maybe it was just a trick of the light?" Dad suggested, attempting to ease the tension. "This place is damned creepy."

  I shook my head vigorously, still trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. "No, no, I swear, I saw her! She was in the shadows, watching us."

  Jae coughed. "If I may, Zane, there has been extensive documentation for centuries of unusual phenomena around hotspots of chaos disruption. Echoes of past events and mirages have been known to crop up with enough chaos energy accumulated in an area. With multiple clusters of kill zones nearby, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re experiencing some strange visual phenomena."

  My dad looked at Jae and then back at me, clearly still concerned. "Alright," he sighed, "Keep your eyes peeled. Let's finish up here and move on."

  We resumed our search, but the mysterious encounter lingered in my thoughts. The fleeting memory of her piercing gaze, those eerie, glowing eyes, and the intricate patterns of her kimono danced in my mind. Pushing the thought aside, I decided to stay vigilant, closely observing our surroundings.

  And then, I saw them.

  "Hey guys," I called out, kneeling down to the ground. "Check this out." Dad and Jae joined me, peering over my shoulder at the discovery.

  Jae squatted down beside me, his eyes narrowing as he traced the outline of the tracks with a finger. "These are fresh. Not more than a day old, maybe less. Looks like multiple people. And they're carrying equipment."

  Dad nodded, pointing towards skid marks left by the dragging of some sort of heavy equipment. "They were recently moving something heavy too."

  The tracks led towards a section of the warehouse that was partially collapsed, and a faint, almost imperceptible trail of dust could be seen lingering in the air.

  I exchanged a worried glance with my dad. "Do you think they're still here?"

  Dad immediately took on a protective stance as he drew his pistol, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the facility. "Careful everyone. Be on your guard - We have no idea who these people are or what they want. For all we know, Ikki might've spotted a lookout. We don't know where the rest are, so stay quiet and keep an eye out."

  I nodded, retrieving my own pistol from its holster. Jae, however, clasped his hands behind his back. He wouldn't need a weapon.

  We continued deeper into the warehouse, and found more signs of activity in the very next room. Fresh footprints, empty food cans, and even a recently burned cigarette butt. It was clear that whoever had been here had been here recently and were likely still around somewhere.

  We slowed down, our steps careful and deliberate, trying to minimize any noise that might alert whoever was in the area to our presence.

  "Looks like they camped out here," I whispered, trying to piece together the story from the remnants. "Do you think they're still around?"

  The room was almost pitch black, illuminated only by a few narrow beams of light that filtered through gaps in the walls and ceiling. The air was thick with dust, and an eerie silence hung over the space, broken only by the occasional creak of settling wood.

  Dad replied, his voice grim. "I'd bet on it. We should get out of here before—"

  A loud bang resonated from a hallway, echoing through the facility. My heart raced as we turned towards the direction of the noise, weapons at the ready.

  "Damn it." Dad swore under his breath. "Looks like we have company."

  We quickly took cover behind a large piece of machinery, and I peeked out to see a group of people emerging from one of the corridors. They looked ragged and worn, their clothes stained and torn, but their demeanor spoke of an underlying aggression. There were about nine of them in total, and two of them looked visibly scuffed.

  "These fucking filthy ass coons..." a teenage boy's voice hissed.

  "Heh, looks like that old nigger gave you a thrashing, huh?" a woman’s voice rang out.

  "Oh piss off, Laura!" one of the beaten men barked back. "If that slanty chink had just kept his nose outta my business..."

  "Save it," another voice snapped. "You got the goods, right? Big healthy negro like that would be worth a pretty penny."

  Jae whispered, "They don't look like any reclamation team I've seen."

  Dad's hand went to his sidearm, drawing it silently. "Whoever they are, they're armed. Stay quiet and observe. We're badly outnumbered."

  We watched in silence as the group moved around the facility. They communicated with a series of hushed tones and hand signals, but what struck me was their cold efficiency. Each move seemed planned and deliberate. It was clear they were searching for something – or someone.

  One of them, a burly man with a shaved head, electronic implants all over his body, and tattoos covering his chest, raised his head, sniffing the air like a predator catching the scent of its prey.

  He was massive, and calling those 'electronic implants' was the mother of all understatements. His arms were made of pure metal, with wires and red plasma floating through one side. He was missing an eye, which was replaced with a bionic red one that glowed in the darkness. His teeth were sharpened, and he had a long scar running across his face. He looked like someone who'd come out of a nightmare, or a really terrible action movie. His body was covered in tattoos, and he wore a bomber jacket and a chain around his neck.

  "I… smell filth," he snarled as I quickly dove down.

  In a heartbeat, the rest of the group were on high alert, weapons drawn.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are ?," the man taunted, his voice dripping with menace.

  The man with the shaved head took a few steps forward, eyes scanning the shadows. His cybernetic eye rotated, and his gaze landed momentarily on the spot where Jae, Dad, and I were hiding. I held my breath, praying he wouldn't spot us. I felt my heart sink as his left eye briefly flashed red.

  "Busted," he sneered, his voice echoing through the warehouse. "Got your smell, now we've got you."

  My dad and I shared a worried glance. There were far more of them, and they looked like hardened fighters. We were outnumbered and potentially outmatched, a fact that was not lost on us. Jae was a veteran Terran mage and officer, but he was only one man, and he didn't know how many of these guys could hold their own in a scrap. The cyborg was fielding some heavy-duty black market magitech, too. That meant serious money and serious business. I could feel the fear in my gut, but also the familiar rush of adrenaline. It was a feeling I had grown accustomed to, but I could feel my heart racing as the situation seemed to spiral out of control.

  "What's the plan?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

  Dad's jaw tightened, and I could see a fierce determination in his eyes.

  "We know you're here," the woman's voice from before rang out. "Show yourselves, or we'll start shooting."

  I exchanged glances with Jae and my father, trying to gauge their reactions. They looked tense, but resolute.

  Jae slowly stepped out behind cover with his hands raised, and the rest of the gang immediately surrounded us like an organized unit. They circled around us like a pack of wolves, their eyes cold and calculating.

  They wore mismatched clothing, but they all had a distinct look that marked them as a single unit. It was a mix of rugged military gear, urban streetwear, and a dash of anachronism. Their weapons were also a blend, a combination of old and new, revealing a resourcefulness born from necessity.

  The man with the heavy cybernetics pointed at Jae, sneering in disgust. "Oh, what have we here? A filthy toonhead gook, sniffing around our base?"

  Dad stepped forward as well, his hands raised placatingly. "Easy there, friend. We're not looking for trouble."

  The group of scavengers laughed, the sound echoing through the empty facility.

  "Well, lookie here. Too bad. Turns out you're in the wrong place at the wrong time," the man with the tattoos spat. "You don't know how much it pissed me off to have to drag our asses back here when I was so close to killing that little shit. Now you're here, and I'm not happy about that."

  One of the group's members, a woman with gaunt cheeks and hair matted with dirt, sneered at Jae. "Smooth hands, nice clothes. Purple eyes. You're from the other side, ain't you? What the fuck do you want?"

  Jae didn't reply, his eyes locked onto the woman, analyzing her every move.

  She laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the warehouse. "What, you think you're too good to talk to us? Think you're better than us?"

  Jae maintained his composure, speaking in his usual formal tone. "We are just here for a reclamation survey. To ensure this area is safe."

  Another member, a pasty boy around my age with a cruel smirk, sunglasses, and a 100% tattoo on his shoulder, sneered at the sight of Jae. "Fucking piece of shit Terrans… You and your lot are the reason we're stuck here in the first place."

  The group's leader, the man with the cybernetic enhancements, stepped forward, his eyes burning with a cold fury. "You think we'd just let you stroll in here, take whatever you want, and leave? You must be dumber than the rest of your kind."

  Dad stepped forward again with his hands in the air, trying to reason with them. "Look, we don't want any trouble. We're here on a sanctioned mission. We'll be out of your hair as soon as we can."

  But the man with the tattoos wasn't listening. "Shut the fuck up! I don't give a shit about your 'mission,' and I don't give a shit about what you say. You're on our turf."

  My dad's hand twitched slightly towards his sidearm, but he stopped himself, realizing the situation could spiral out of control.

  "Oh, you'll leave alright," the man with the tattoos and cybernetics said with a malicious grin, "But not all in one piece. And we're going to make it niiice and slow for the toon here. We've gotta send a message to all you little shits coming who think you can set up shop."

  Another, an athletic woman with a long scar across her cheek, took a step closer, her cold eyes taking in my father, then moving on to me. "Who's the kid?" She gestured at me with a mocking tilt of her head.

  "None of your business," Dad retorted, his voice filled with a protective edge.

  A muscular man with a Celtic cross tank top glanced over to Jae, his eyes narrowing with disgust. "Look at this one," he snarled, the veins on his neck bulging as he chuckled.

  "You know what we think of you Terrans? Especially the little faggots that look like you," he hissed, pointing at Jae's silver hair and violet eyes. "You filthy bastards unleashed your monsters on our world. Then you fucking drain us of all the resources and technology we have left to call our own and leave us with scraps."

  Jae raised an eyebrow but kept his face neutral, seemingly unperturbed by the man's aggression. "The Fourth Chaos War was a tragedy for both our worlds. We are here to help and mend, not to harm."

  The man's lip curled into a sneer. "Help? You call that help?! We know you and your kind's plans, how you want to enslave us and replace us, mold Earth into your little paradise."

  The sound of heavy footfalls and the clanking of chains echoed through the building, and the group parted to make way for three more of their members. A man was carrying a claw hammer, its head caked in rust and dried blood.

  As they approached, the objects behind them became clearer. Blake and Alex, bound and beaten, were roughly pushed into the room. Their once-pristine clothing was torn and stained with blood, evidence of a violent encounter.

  "And look at what we found outside," a wiry woman covered in Nordic rune tattoos sneered as she walked out from the shadows, drawing her finger across Alex's bruised cheek in a twisted display of mock affection. "Friends of yours, I take it?"

  The woman was in her twenties, and she had a short, blonde pixie cut. She wore a black robe, which parted into a corset, leggings, and combat boots that left very little to the imagination up front. Alex's eyes glinted with pain and defiance as he glared up to her.

  Blake, despite his injuries, managed a small smile. "Heh. Hey fellas, looks like we walked into the wrong party this time, huh?"

  The tattooed man with the implants circled Alex and Blake like a vulture, drinking in their misery. "Now, now," he drawled, "looks like we've got ourselves a full house here. Chinks, niggers, and even a disgusting little Terran toonhead."

  I felt my pulse quicken, my anger rising at how Blake and Alex were treated. I tried to stand, to face these monsters head-on, but Dad's firm hand on my shoulder held me back.

  I took a deep breath and settled in nervously. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, each of us aware that the slightest misstep could lead to violence. As ready as I was to fight, I knew we were outnumbered and outgunned. Any direct confrontation would be suicidal.

  "I will provide you one final warning," Jae said, his voice cold, the calm cadence contrasting starkly with the charged atmosphere. "Leave us be. Now. You have already gone too far."

  The tattooed cyborg man's laughter filled the room. "Oh, and who the fuck are you to tell us what to do?"

  Jae said nothing, merely stared at the man with cold detachment.

  The man stepped closer until their faces were mere inches apart. "I said, who the fuck are you?" he snarled.

  "I am Jae-hee Sung. Former Captain of the Terran Northern Alliance Council Security Unit. And you…" Jae's eyes burned with anger as he pointed at the man, "…are in violation of multiple treaties agreed upon between relief forces and the people of Earth."

  One of the thugs, a wiry man with a scar running down his cheek, laughed. "Treaties? We don't give a fuck about any treaties. We make our own rules here."

  Jae's voice remained calm, but his words carried a menacing edge. "I would strongly advise you to reconsider. For your own well-being."

  The leader laughed, a deep and hollow sound. Then, without warning, he grasped Jae's neck and slammed him against the wall, flashing like a blur. "Big words from a toon," he sneered, his face contorting with rage. I could feel Dad tense beside me, his fingers twitching in anticipation, but he said nothing. Jae, however, remained unruffled, his face emotionless and unwavering as he stared into the thug's eyes.

  Jae didn't flinch, his expression remaining stony. He met the man's gaze with his own piercing violet eyes, his mouth curling into a slight smile.

  Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind filled the room, swirling around Jae's body. The air grew heavier, and a subtle, static hum reverberated through the warehouse.

  "Then I am afraid," Jae said quietly but firmly, "that you will find that I am at the edge of my patience."

  The thug's grip on Jae's neck tightened, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "What? You think you can stop us?"

  Before the taunt could fully settle in the air, Jae's eyes began to shine a radiant violet, and a gust of wind, whirled around the room. The thug was thrown back across the room and into a wall with a surprised gasp, and the other scavengers stumbled back in shock. Some of them tried to train their weapons on Jae, but the force of the wind was too strong, and their aim was wild.

  Objects levitated, papers fluttered, and a force pressed down on all present. Jae's voice boomed, carrying an eerie echo. "I warned you," he growled, his eyes shining brightly. His hands were surrounded by a purple aura, and he gestured, sending the rest of the gang members hurtling away, crashing into walls and debris. The sound of their bodies hitting the walls echoed throughout the facility.

  My jaw dropped, and I could hear my father's sharp intake of breath as we watched the scene unfold before us.

  Without another word, Jae extended his hand, fingers splayed, and the atmosphere around us shifted. The very air shimmered with an ethereal blue glow. Whispers of an ancient language that sounded vaguely like Chinese escaped his lips, and the translucent blue and silver apparition of an ancient eastern dragon began to spiral around him. He gestured with his hands, and Alex and Blake came flying towards him, landing roughly but safely at his feet.

  "What's the plan?" I whispered, panic creeping into my voice.

  Dad's gaze was locked on the unfolding confrontation, his brow furrowed in thought. "It's all up to Jae. He knows what he's doing."

  I looked over at the others. Alex was trying to slip his bindings, his face contorted in pain. Blake watched the scene unfold with an unreadable expression.

  And then suddenly, a bolt of red lightning hurtled towards us.

  As if in slow motion, Jae turned to face the oncoming projectile, his eyes narrowing. A silver shimmering shield materialized in front of us, deflecting the lightning bolt off to the side, where it struck the wall, sending sparks and fragments of concrete flying everywhere. Wisps of silver energy spiraled around him, forming a protective barrier in front of us that shimmered like a translucent veil.

  The wiry woman took a step forward with a smirk on her face.

  "Seems like we have a showoff," she taunted.

  She also began to chant, her fingers moving in sharp, swift patterns. The ground beneath her feet darkened as she did, forming a rune. It was angular and rigid and pulsed with a deep crimson hue.

  "What?!" Jae exclaimed in genuine shock, his violet eyes widening.

  The woman glanced at her comrades with a triumphant grin.

  "I'm afraid your little light show won't be enough," she sneered.

  Dark tendrils of energy shot up from the rune, snaking their way toward Jae's dragon. The tendrils were like nothing I'd ever seen, shimmering with a cold, eerie light, reminding me of arctic auroras.

  The dragon roared in fury, attempting to fend off the assault, but the tendrils were relentless. They wrapped themselves around the ethereal beast, pulling it toward the rune, effectively neutralizing the creature's immense power.

  The blue and silver glow of the dragon clashed violently with the crimson tendrils, producing sparks and flashes that lit up the dim room. A cacophony of roars and hisses filled the air; the dragon's fury met with the cold, methodical aggression of the tendrils.

  Jae strained against the woman's magic, his face contorted with effort. On the other hand, the wiry woman looked almost serene, her eyes shining with a cold determination.

  Around them, the room seemed to distort, the very fabric of reality bending and warping under the sheer force of their magical clash. The temperature dropped sharply, and a cold, biting wind swept through the facility.

  But as suddenly as it began, the battle took a dramatic turn. The dragon's form dissipated into an explosion of blue energy, rippling down the woman’s tendrils. The woman jerked back, before collapsing on the floor and panting heavily while Jae looked at her with cold fury and wariness.

  After a few moments of silence, the woman stepped back, giving a short bow that seemed almost reluctant.

  "I am afraid our fight has to end here," she said, her gaze wandering to Jae's face as she reached into a pouch by her waist. "You are a skilled mage. Perhaps too skilled. I could not best you in a fair fight."

  Jae tensed, but the woman fished an object from her pouch and tossed it to the ground before he could respond. It was a small red glass shard, glowing softly in the dim light right before it shattered and filled the air with red light.

  She'd used the bowing gesture to buy time and catch him by surprise. In the split second it took for him to react, the room was engulfed in an intense crimson light that left us all momentarily blinded.

  The effect was instantaneous. A wave of drowsiness washed over me, my eyelids growing heavy and my limbs feeling like lead. I fought against the sudden lethargy, but it was overwhelming.

  "But I needn’t fight a fair fight, do I?" she said with a smirk.

  The woman waved her hands in a circular gesture, speaking an incantation in a strange, musical language. As she finished, a wave of malevolent red light spread through the room. I watched as it passed over everyone present before a silver and red rune appeared in the middle of the air.

  Through the haze, I could make out Jae staggering.

  His barrier shimmered and faltered, and the dragon dissipated into wisps of blue and silver smoke. Dad, Blake, and Alex were also affected. Their postures slackened as they struggled to remain conscious.

  The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was a vague figure that looked eerily similar to the mysterious woman in the kimono from before. Her kimono was dark, and her outstretched hand seemed to reach me, fear etched on her ethereal, blurry face. But she was nothing more than a fleeting vision.

  The world around me faded, and I succumbed to the darkness, my last thoughts of the strange woman and her haunting eyes.