Chapter 6: The Sulfur Plains
Morning never truly arrived in the Graylands, but the sky had lightened enough to distinguish shapes on the horizon. Jack and Lena moved quietly, leaving the ruins and that cursed camp far behind. The wasteland stretched ahead of them — an endless plain of cracked earth, dead trees, and a haze of sulfuric smoke that rose from the fissures in the ground.
The air here was thicker, laced with a stench that burned the throat with every breath. Jack tied a cloth over his mouth, glancing at Lena who struggled to keep pace, a sheen of sweat on her brow.
> "You'll pass out if you breathe too deep," he warned. "Slow breaths. In through the nose."
She nodded weakly, copying him. She was tougher than she looked, but the environment itself was a predator here — silent and relentless.
Ahead, the land sloped downward into a valley ringed with jagged cliffs. Steam hissed from the cracks in the earth. Pools of yellow-green liquid bubbled quietly, their surfaces coated with oily sheens that shimmered with sickly colors.
Jack stopped at the ridge, surveying the path ahead. No signs of movement — but that meant little. The Plains had their own predators, and not all of them left tracks.
Lena sank to her knees beside him, gasping.
> "How far... to this Citadel of yours?" she asked.
> "Farther than here," Jack muttered. "Weeks, maybe months. If it exists."
Lena scowled.
> "You're chasing a ghost."
Jack smiled faintly.
> "Maybe. But it's the only ghost that might still have answers."
She didn't argue. Hunger had dulled her defiance, and the heat of the sulfur plains was draining her fast.
They started descending carefully, feet testing every patch of ground. The deeper they went, the hotter the air became, waves of heat warping the landscape. Insects the size of fists buzzed in the distance, their wings heavy and slow, like they too struggled to survive this place.
Then Jack heard it — voices.
He raised his hand, signaling Lena to stop. They pressed against the side of a jagged rock, ears tuned to the wind.
There were three, maybe four people ahead. The voices were rough, some laughing, others arguing. Mercenaries? Scavengers?
Jack peered around the rock.
At the base of the valley, where the smoke thinned just slightly, a group had set up camp. Not like the last — this one was more organized. Tents made of stitched tarps, a central fire pit, weapons stacked in crates. But what caught Jack's attention was the vehicle — a rusted, armored truck, its sides painted with the same red circle symbol he'd seen back at the camp.
> "Same mark," he whispered. "These aren't just random scavengers."
Lena looked worried.
> "What do we do? Go around?"
Jack shook his head.
> "We can't. This valley stretches too far. We'd starve or worse."
> "So we fight?"
Jack considered it. But the numbers weren't in their favor. These men were better equipped, better armed.
> "No. We watch. Wait for a hole in their defenses."
But then something changed. A figure stepped out of one of the tents — tall, wrapped in cloth and a long coat, but their face was masked with a breathing apparatus, lenses glowing faintly blue.
When they spoke, their voice carried authority.
> "Pack up. We move east by sundown. The Citadel's scouts are getting closer. We need to intercept them first."
Jack's breath caught.
> The Citadel?
So it wasn't just a myth. They were real — and they sent scouts.
Lena glanced at him.
> "Did you hear that?"
Jack nodded, mind racing.
> "Yeah. And it means they're real. The Citadel... it's out there."
> "Then let's follow them!"
Jack hesitated.
Following meant risk. These people knew the land, and being caught would mean death. But it was the first real lead he had in years.
> "We'll follow at a distance," Jack decided. "Carefully. If they're chasing the Citadel scouts, we'll find both."
Lena smiled weakly.
> "Thought you'd say that."
They settled back into the rocks, watching, waiting for the convoy to move. The sulfur plains hissed and bubbled around them, the sky oppressive and unchanging.
But for the first time, Jack felt it — a pull, like a thread guiding him forward.
The Ashen Citadel wasn't just a myth.
It was real.
And he was getting closer.
Ch