Chapter 15: The Scrap Fields
564 Words
The Scrap Fields stretched to the horizon. It was a graveyard of civilization. Towers of rusted metal, shattered golems, and the skeletal remains of war machines rose from the toxic earth like the bones of giants.
Kaelen moved through the maze of debris. The miasma was thicker here, a greenish fog that clung to his skin. The Vyre larva in his arm pulsed with contentment, feeding on the ambient magical radiation.
He heard voices. Not the guttural growls of mutants. Human voices.
He crouched behind a pile of broken masonry. Peering over the top, he saw a group of people. They were scavengers, like him. But they were organized. They wore patchwork armor made from scavenged metal. They carried crude spears and crossbows.
They were dismantling a fallen Steam Golem. They were harvesting its parts.
Kaelen watched them. He noted their numbers—seven. Their weapons—primitive but effective. Their behavior—cautious, disciplined.
They were not like the Scroungers in the Tower. They were a tribe.
One of them, a woman with a scar across her cheek, looked up. Her eyes were sharp. She was the leader.
"Company," she said, her voice low and gravelly.
The scavengers stopped working. They turned, weapons raised.
Kaelen stood up. He didn't hide. He walked toward them, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Who are you?" the scarred woman demanded. "This is our claim. Move on."
Kaelen stopped ten paces away. He said nothing. He just looked at them. His cold, dead eyes assessed them. He could take them. Easily.
But he didn't. He needed information. He needed to know what was out here.
"I'm looking for a place to stay," Kaelen said, his voice flat.
The woman laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Stay? There's no staying in the Wasteland. You survive, or you die."
She gestured to the Steam Golem. "This is our food. Our shelter. We don't share."
Kaelen looked at the golem. It was a treasure trove of residue. Metal, steam, and magical circuits. It was exactly what he needed.
"I can help you," Kaelen said.
The woman sneered. "Help? You're one man. We're seven. What can you do?"
Kaelen didn't answer with words. He raised his mutated arm. The Adaptive Carapace extended, covering his entire forearm. He pointed at the Steam Golem.
He activated his Acidic Spray.
A stream of viscous, green fluid shot out, striking the golem's chest. It hissed and sizzled, eating through the thick metal like it was paper.
The scavengers stared, their jaws slack.
The woman's eyes narrowed. She looked at Kaelen, then at the hole in the golem.
"You're not from around here," she said. "That's a trick I haven't seen."
She lowered her spear. "Maybe you can help. But you work for us. And we get the best parts. Understand?"
Kaelen looked at her. He didn't agree. He didn't disagree.
He just walked toward the golem.
"I'll take the core," he said.
The woman shrugged. "Fine. Take the core. Just don't get in our way."
Kaelen reached the golem. He placed his hand on the metal. The Vyre larva stirred. It could feel the energy inside.
He began to dismantle the machine, using his acid and his strength. He was efficient. Ruthless.
The scavengers watched in silence.
Kaelen had found a new source of food. And maybe, just maybe, a place to learn more about this world.
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