Into the Wasteland

Chapter 3:

Into the Wasteland

The ascent to the surface was grueling. Radon climbed through layers of debris and crumbling infrastructure, his bionic limbs creaking with each movement. The air grew thinner, colder, as he approached the surface. Finally, he emerged into the twilight of the dying world.

The surface greeted them with bitter winds and a sickly crimson sky. This particular sky was a sickly hue of various rays being given off by dying stars. These colors were vibrant, they were radiantly violet caused by gas clouds and crimson dust from the negative effects of the radiation floating in the upper atmosphere. It was a mixture of pure death as the emitted were lethal to almost all species currently occupying the land of the thirds. With the red sun barely a sliver on the horizon, the wasteland stretched endlessly before them, with ash dunes rippling under the fading light of the red sun.

Radon adjusted the straps on his salvaged backpack, glancing at Karys as she scanned the horizon with a pair of makeshift binoculars. He began to the trek down towards the ruins. Every step was a battle against his failing body. His core processor struggled to keep up with the demands of his mechanical limbs, sending jolts of pain through his organic nerves.

Hours into the journey, he spotted movement on the horizon. A figure emerged from the haze, clad in patchwork armor and carrying a long spear. Radon instinctively raised his arm, the small blaster embedded in his wrist whirring to life.

A desolate expanse of ash dunes and twisted metal. In the distance, the ruins of Solara Prime loomed like the skeleton of a long-dead beast.

“Solara Prime is at least two days out,” she said, her voice clipped. “We’ll need to stay off the main paths. Rite patrols have been heavier lately.”

“Lead the way,” Radon replied, his limbs creaking as he followed her down the ashen trail.

Hours passed in tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of machinery in the distance. Radon’s core processor sent occasional jolts of pain through his body, but he pushed forward, determined.

They came across an abandoned settlement, its crumbling walls covered in soot. As they scavenged for supplies, a voice called out.

“Don’t move.”

Radon and Karys froze, their weapons raised instinctively. A figure stepped out of the shadows—a Sophont, clad in patchwork armor, their spear glinting in the dim light.

“Easy there, half-breed,” the figure said, as they lowered their spears and bionic weapons, not really sure if this could spell a brutal confrontation.

“I’m not here to fight,” the figure said.

Karys narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“Rylis,” the Sophont replied. “I’m heading to Solara Prime. Same signal as you, I’m guessing.”

The stranger was a Sophont scavenger, his weathered face partially hidden behind a cloth mask. He introduced himself as Rylis and explained how he was also heading to Solara Prime, drawn by the same signal.

Radon frowned as e eyed him warily. “What’s a Sophont doing chasing Pasttech? Thought your kind hated the touch of machines.”

“Yes, we do not like machines at all, in fact, we despise them.” the Sophont replied. “I just happened to be scouring around for lost tablets and scrolls myself, when I realized a beam coming from my sonar infused navigator.

“And why would a Sophont care about pasttech?” Radon responded, brushing him off.

“Same reason you do,” Rylis said, his expression unreadable. “Survival and resources. See I’m a scribe myself, and have come so far into these wastelands to gather enough material before another solar flare hits this afternoon.”

Rylis shrugged. “Desperate times. That signal isn’t just any pasttech. It could save this dying world.”

“Of course,” Rylis responded, cunningly with his hands slightly lowering after being raised in the air for the brief interrogation.

“Keep your little human hands where we can see them!” Karys said, as she pointed her spear at the Sophont.

Rylis raised an eyebrow but said nothing, as he raised his hands back up again.

Radon’s grip on his blaster tightened. “I don’t care about the world. I just need that processor.”

Karys fixed her eyes at the Sophont, trying to inspect if he might be carrying any weapons or not, while Radon looked around and making sure that no enemy drones were flying near-by as it could spell trouble for the gang, as he was in no condition for combat.

After a tense silence, they nodded. “Fair enough. But the Eidolon Rite won’t care what you’re after. They’ll kill us all if they find us.” Radon said.

Karys gave a thumbs up signal to Radon, so he that he could approve that no harm could be brought by the Sophont.

“Let him go Karys, I think he wouldn’t bite us enough to want to kill him.” Radon responded, shaking his head out of frustration.

Karys exchanged a glance with Radon, then nodded. “Alright, Rylis. But if you try anything, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Reluctantly, Radon agreed to travel along with Rylis towards the signal. The wasteland was dangerous enough without the added threat of solitude in the absence of a two-man wolf pack. He thought that maybe he could be resourceful, as Sophonts possess rare qualities that are needed on the journey beyond.