TRASH-DRAGON's market was housed inside the torn-apart carcass of a large transport ship. There was no artificial gravity here. Stalls, auction booths, buyers, and sellers floated freely in the air, creating a chaos with its own peculiar order. Children with magnetic shoes ran and jumped on the ceilings and walls, considering it completely normal.
Old Man Gizmo's "Food" Stall: The old man was a half-human, half-refrigerator robot who moved on treads. On his counter, tubes from the fridge dispensed grey-brown "recycled protein buns" into bowls made from shell casings. He was wearing an annoyed expression and twisting a steam valve, spraying nitrogen smoke at a group of Steel Leeches clinging to the wall: "Get lost! You metal-blood-suckers!" Yet, the moment any customer approached his stall, he would immediately turn to face them with a smiling face.
"Recycled protein sandwiches! exchange for One happy memory or two "Essence". Guaranteed to fill you up, not guaranteed to avoid a stomach ache!" he shouted. In reality, the buns were compressed from processed algae and organic waste, tasting like metal dust mixed with water.
The Glowbug Kids' "Toy" Corner: A group of glowing blue-skinned children were selling strange, homemade toys. One kid was demonstrating a bug-robot made from a broken hard drive and some LEDs.
"This bug-bot can crawl on walls! It even makes fun sounds! Trade for a good story or a nice dream!" the blue child said, their voice chirping like a bird's.
The "Intergalactic Grocery" Store Owner: A woman with six robotic arms was simultaneously weighing a pile of expired Essence, calculating prices on a rusty handheld calculator, and scolding a haggling customer.
"I've got everything here – from expired "Essence" to alien plant seeds! Everything is for sale Except a conscience! Buy now, the sale is almost over!" she yelled, using one arm to snatch some batteries a child was trying to steal.
Ember led her group through the market. Teron crawled on the ceiling, his eyes scanning the merchandise for components. Celeste was drawn to a crystal stall, where Dream Speakers—glowing orbs of gas—hovered, projecting hazy images of distant worlds.
Just as the market was at its busiest, a swirling gust of wind suddenly appeared from a ventilation duct in the ceiling. It wasn't normal wind. It was a Mini Vortex—a living atmospheric entity, about two meters tall, with a body of frantically swirling air, glittering inside with countless metal fragments and luminescent dust it had collected.
With a chilling shriek of "Woooooooo...", the Mini Vortex dove into a pile of uncleared trash near the six-armed Grocery Owner's stall. It sucked all the garbage—from boxes and rusty screws to a mechanical mouse running around—into its swirling core. In seconds, the area was spotless.
Its job done, it hovered in front of the shop owner, its swirling form slowing down, as if waiting.
"Time to pay the little cleaning buddy again," the shop owner muttered, using one robotic arm to pull out a large, low-grade Essence of Cold, the size of a fist, billowing with white, freezing vapor.
"Here, this is for you!" She tossed the Essence of Cold into the center of the vortex.
RIIIIING!
A high-pitched, joyous sound, like shattering glass mixed with clear laughter, erupted from the Mini Vortex. It swallowed the essence, and immediately, the temperature around it plummeted. Tiny ice crystals began to form on the debris spinning within its body.
As a thank you, or perhaps just out of sheer joy, the Mini Vortex began spinning faster than ever. It sucked fine metallic dust from the air. Under the flashing neon lights of the market, these dust particles, now coated with a thin layer of ice from the cold vapor, refracted the light into a shimmering, brilliant rainbow—a beautiful and magical "Ice Rainbow" right in the middle of the chaotic market.
The rainbow lasted for a few brief seconds before vanishing. The Mini Vortex, after its performance, shrieked happily again and then swirled away to another pile of trash to continue its "cleaning" duties and demand a reward.
The miraculous sight made Celeste's eyes go wide and her mouth drop open. "Sister Ember, look! It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, one hand pointing in the direction the vortex went, the other gripping Ember's hand tightly.
Ember, who usually acted tough, couldn't help but crack a small smile. "Yeah. It really is," she admitted. In a place of only garbage and survival, moments like this were as precious as the Essence itself.
A few nearby vendors also paused to enjoy the free light show before burying themselves back into their work of making a living. It was part of the daily routine, a somewhat endearing quirk of life on TRASH-DRAGON.