The wind cut through the ruins of Rubicon like a blade, carrying with it the scent of ash, rust, and a world long since abandoned. Talon Creed pressed himself against the crumbling wall of what had once been a residential building, surveying the skeletal streets below. The sun, obscured by layers of smoke and dust, cast a pale orange glow across the landscape, painting shadows where light dared not linger.
He had learned early that Rubicon showed no mercy. Every day was a fight, every step a test of instinct and survival. And Talon had been shaped by loss from the very beginning.
He remembered his parents clearly—both brilliant engineers who had dared to dream beyond the iron grip of the corporate machines that ruled Rubicon. They had been cautious, careful, and meticulous in their work. Talon's earliest memories were of their laughter, the hum of machinery in their workshop, and the small comforts of a home filled with warmth despite the harsh world outside.
But that world had a way of taking everything.
The day the corporate enforcers came, Talon had been only eight years old. He had hidden behind a stack of crates in the family workshop, small hands pressed over his ears as the sounds of destruction tore through the building. Explosions, shouts, and the unmistakable clatter of armored boots echoed in his mind even now. His parents had fought to protect him, but the corporations had no mercy.
By the time Talon had crawled from his hiding place, smoke choked the air, and the workshop was a ruin. His parents were gone, taken by the very world they had tried to resist. Their voices, their guidance, their presence—gone. Only ash remained.
From that moment, Talon swore a silent oath. He would survive. He would endure. And no one would ever take away someone under his protection again.
The years that followed shaped him into a master of the wastelands. He learned to navigate the ruins of Rubicon with stealth and precision. He scavenged for food, water, and mechanical parts, often venturing into dangerous areas where other survivors dared not tread. Each day honed his reflexes, his senses, and his instincts. By the time he was thirteen, Talon was no longer just a survivor—he was a predator in the ruins, capable of anticipating danger before it struck.
But Talon's life was not meant to remain solitary forever. One day, as he scavenged near the remains of a collapsed apartment complex, he heard the faint sound of crying. It was soft, almost drowned by the wind and the distant echoes of collapsing structures, yet unmistakable.
Following the sound, he found a small girl huddled beneath a collapsed doorway, her clothes torn and ash-streaked, her eyes wide with fear. She looked no older than seven.
"Hey," Talon said cautiously, crouching to appear smaller and less threatening. "Are you… okay?"
The girl flinched but did not move. Her voice trembled. "I… I'm hungry. I… I don't have anyone…"
Talon's heart clenched. He saw himself in her—vulnerability, fear, and the desperate need for protection. Without thinking, he extended a hand. "Come on. I'll take care of you. You're safe with me."
Her eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and hope. Slowly, she took his hand. Talon lifted her from the rubble, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over him. He named her Mira.
From that day, Talon and Mira became inseparable. He taught her to move silently, to scavenge efficiently, and to trust her instincts. In return, she gave him a reason to keep moving forward, to fight not just for survival but for her safety.
Their days became a rhythm of survival. Dawn to dusk, they scavenged the ruins for food, water, and salvageable tech. Talon taught Mira how to fashion makeshift weapons, repair broken devices, and read the subtle signs of danger in Rubicon's wastelands. They avoided scavenger gangs, malfunctioning ACs, and the occasional patrol of corporate enforcers.
One evening, as they rested in a partially collapsed building, Mira looked up at Talon with wide eyes. "Do you think we'll ever have a home again?" she asked softly.
Talon paused, staring into the ash-choked horizon. "I don't know," he admitted. "But we'll make a life together, no matter what it looks like. For now… we survive, and we protect each other. That's what matters."
Mira pressed close to him, her small hand resting on his arm. In that moment, Talon felt a rare warmth, a flicker of hope in a world that had given him none.
As the weeks passed, Talon noticed changes within himself. His reflexes seemed sharper, his senses keener, and he began anticipating dangers before they fully revealed themselves. He chalked it up to years of training in the wastelands—but deep down, he felt something more stirring inside him, a latent power that seemed to respond to his need to protect Mira.
The following morning, the ash-filled sky seemed heavier, pressing down on the ruins like a tangible weight. Talon led Mira through a narrow street choked with twisted metal and broken concrete. Every step was deliberate; every sound was measured. Rubicon was a city of death for the unprepared, and Talon had learned the hard way that a moment's carelessness could mean the end.
"Stay close," he murmured, scanning the shadows. Mira's small hand was clasped firmly in his, and she followed without hesitation. Her eyes darted around, catching the smallest movements, the faintest shifts in the ash-laden wind. Talon felt a surge of pride. She was learning quickly—not just to survive, but to anticipate.
They approached a collapsed factory complex, its skeletal framework rising like the remnants of a forgotten era. Talon crouched behind a rusted wall, peering through the gap. Faint metallic clanks echoed from inside—a scavenger gang, no doubt, picking through the ruins.
"Do you see them?" Mira whispered, her voice barely audible.
Talon nodded. "Yes. We wait. Patience is everything out here. They're dangerous, but predictable if you watch carefully."
Minutes stretched like hours. The scavengers moved methodically, oblivious to Talon and Mira's presence. He used the shadows to edge closer, guiding Mira silently. Every step was calculated; one misstep could expose them.
Suddenly, a beam shifted underfoot, sending a loud clang echoing through the ruins. The scavengers froze, then began scanning the area. Talon's heart pounded, but he remained calm. He whispered, "Down. Stay low. Move with me."
Mira pressed herself against his side, following his every move. Talon's hand brushed a jagged piece of metal, shaping it quickly into a makeshift weapon. The scavengers advanced, and he acted with precision honed from years in Rubicon.
He ducked a swing from a jagged pipe, countering with the metal shard to strike at their knees, forcing them off balance. Mira, inspired by his movements, grabbed a loose piece of debris and swiped at another attacker, causing him to stumble. Together, they moved as a unit—fluid, silent, lethal.
When the last scavenger fled, bruised and defeated, Talon exhaled slowly. Mira looked at him, eyes wide. "I… I did it?" she asked, astonishment mixed with fear.
"You did," Talon replied, brushing ash from her coat. "You followed instructions. You stayed calm. That's how you survive."
After the encounter, they pressed deeper into the ruins, careful to avoid leaving any trace. Talon led Mira to a partially collapsed building, where they set up a temporary shelter. Inside, he arranged their meager supplies: ration bars, water packets, and a few tech scraps they had scavenged earlier.
Mira, exhausted, leaned against him. "Do you ever get tired of fighting?" she asked quietly.
Talon stared into the darkened sky outside. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But we fight because we have to. Because if we don't, we don't survive. And… because we protect each other."
Mira's eyes softened. "I'm glad it's you. I trust you."
Talon's jaw tightened. Her trust was fragile yet precious. It was a responsibility he would carry as fiercely as any weapon.
The next day brought harsher challenges. They navigated a collapsed overpass, where ash and gravel shifted beneath every step. Talon taught Mira how to test the ground before stepping, how to balance using rubble for support, and how to move silently despite the unstable terrain. Each lesson was critical; one mistake could send them tumbling into a hidden ravine or trap.
At one point, a gust of wind sent a cloud of ash into Mira's eyes. She coughed and stumbled. Talon's hand shot out, steadying her. "Steady," he said firmly. "Breathe. Focus. You're stronger than you think."
Her small voice trembled. "I want to be as strong as you."
Talon allowed himself a faint smile. "Strength isn't just about fighting. It's about thinking, surviving, and protecting those who matter. That's what makes someone truly strong."
By midday, hunger gnawed at them, and they discovered a half-buried supply crate beneath a collapsed warehouse. Talon brushed away the ash and debris, revealing ration bars, water packets, and an energy cell that had seen better days. Mira's face lit up, and she grabbed a bar eagerly.
"Easy," Talon cautioned. "We share. Take only what we need."
They ate quickly, packing the remaining supplies. Talon's mind was already calculating the next steps. Deeper into the ruins lay more danger—but also more opportunity. Somewhere in Rubicon, hidden amidst the ash and rubble, lay resources that could ensure their survival for weeks, perhaps months.
As they moved through a narrow alley, Talon's senses tingled—a subtle warning of nearby movement. He froze, crouched low, and signaled Mira to do the same. Shadows shifted ahead, revealing a scavenger patrol scanning for survivors.
"Stick close," Talon whispered. "We wait for the right moment."
Hours passed in tense silence. Talon watched the scavengers, noting their patterns and weaknesses. He moved Mira quietly behind debris, teaching her how to remain unseen and anticipate danger. When the moment came, he struck with precision—forcing the patrol to retreat while minimizing noise and risk. Mira observed, learning quickly, absorbing every detail.
By nightfall, they reached a collapsed overpass offering minimal shelter. Talon built a small, controlled fire using scavenged materials, careful not to draw attention. Mira curled beside him, shivering but safe.
"You make survival look… easier than it is," she said softly.
Talon shook his head. "It's never easy. You just learn to endure, to anticipate, and to protect those who matter. That's how we survive."
As they settled in, Talon's mind drifted to the latent power he had begun to feel within himself. His instincts, faster and sharper than normal, hinted at something more—something beyond human. The spark of Innovade abilities stirred, responding to the danger around him, to the presence of Mira, and to the harsh demands of Rubicon itself.