The rain had followed them even then.A thin drizzle slid across rusted rooftops, dripping into broken alleys where smoke and fog tangled like ghosts. The air reeked of scorched metal and rot, as if the city had never stopped burning.
Max tightened his grip on the strap of his pack. Beside him, April adjusted her mask, her eyes sharp beneath the drizzle. The massive gate loomed ahead—its surface cracked and streaked with faded warning signs. Few dared to cross. Fewer still returned.
April whispered, almost to herself."Looks worse than the stories…"
Max didn't answer. His gaze lingered on the flickering billboards above, cables sparking faint neon light into the rain. The Dead District wasn't just a ruin—it was a graveyard for the reckless. Rumors spoke of scavengers vanishing, of fugitives carving out kingdoms, of experiments left to rot in silence.
The capsule behind them hissed as its doors sealed shut. No way back.
A sudden creak echoed from the ruins.Metal shifting against metal.
Max raised his rifle. April froze.From behind a collapsed storefront, a shape dragged itself into the rain. Flesh torn, metal grafts fused into bone, a mouth hanging open in a hoarse growl.
A Crawler.
Its eyes, milk-white and unfocused, locked onto them.
April muttered, steadying her blade."First one…"
Max steadied his breath. Pitiful. But no time to hesitate.His rifle spat a short burst—legs shattered. April's blade cut clean through its arm in a hiss of light. The Crawler collapsed, twitching in the puddles.
Max's scanner blinked. Components flickered across the display—synthetic heart, memory fragments, mechanical lens. Junk, but sellable. He slid them into his pocket.
April wiped rain from her visor."Not empty, then."
Max almost smirked. "It never is."
They pressed deeper.Children splashed in muddy puddles beneath makeshift tents. Vendors packed their stalls with rusted electronics. Exhausted faces stared back at them, a silent warning: you don't belong here.
Max's chest tightened. This wasn't just ruins. It was a city inside a city. A place where law didn't exist. Where only those who could heal, fight, or kill fast enough survived.
He glanced at April. She was steady, but her hand never left the hilt of her blade.
Every step was a calculation. Every step could be an opportunity… or a trap.
The trap came sooner than expected.
From the shadows of a ruined overpass, four figures emerged—scarred, muscular, eyes sharp with hunger. Their weapons hummed with lethal light.
Plasma Whip. Pulse Rifle. Shock Blade. Railgun Pistol.
April's sword ignited in response, pale blue in the rain."Fugitives," she muttered. "Looks like we're not the only hunters tonight."
One of them, the leader, smiled with broken teeth."You think this is sightseeing? You bleed, you pay."
The whip cracked. The fight began.
They moved as one. Max's bullets shattered legs, April's blade carved through armor. Sparks danced in the rain as plasma and neon collided. A Shock Blade screeched across the wall, disabling April's visor for a second—long enough for Max to drag her back, his arm regenerating where a rail shot had grazed it.
April blinked, stunned. Max didn't flinch. His flesh knitted itself back in seconds.
She exhaled, steady. "That fast… you really are impossible."
Max smirked faintly. "Focus."
The fugitives fell, their bodies scattering across the ruins. Max's scanner buzzed—memory chips, cybernetic modules, credits flashing on the HUD. A fortune, if they could live long enough to sell it.
April leaned against the wall, panting."Dead District… harsher than I thought."
Max looked past her, into the smoke. Footsteps echoed above. Heavy, deliberate.
He raised his weapon."Stay ready. This place isn't finished with us yet."
The ruins groaned as more shadows gathered.
The Dead District wasn't just a battlefield. It was a survival test. And they had only just begun.
The rain didn't stop. It drummed against broken glass, sliding down neon-lit puddles that reflected the ruins like fractured mirrors.
Max and April pushed deeper, weaving through alleys where shadows lingered longer than they should. Here, silence felt heavier than sound. Every step crunched on broken circuitry, every breath tasted of dust and ash.
"Feels like the city's watching us," April muttered, her hand brushing the hilt of her blade.
"It is," Max replied flatly. His eyes scanned the rooftops. "Every scavenger who died here left pieces of themselves behind. This place remembers."
They passed a collapsed tower, its walls scorched black. Inside, skeletal remains clung to shattered desks—scientists, judging from the white coats stiff with decay. Tubes and cables hung from the ceiling, dripping stagnant water onto corroded terminals.
Max's scanner pinged softly. A weak signal. Data residue.
He crouched, brushing grime from a half-crushed console. Lab equipment. Not junk. His pulse quickened. If the signal was still active, that meant—
"Treasure?" April asked, eyes narrowing.
"Maybe more than that."
The further they climbed, the stronger the signal pulsed. Each floor was a grave of machines: broken pods, cracked energy cells, graffiti scrawled in blood. Leave or be consumed.
The scanner buzzed louder—until they reached a door sealed in reinforced steel. Faded letters across the panel read: Sector-9 Biotech Storage.
April's throat tightened."This… is real."
Max slid his palm across the biometric lock. Sparks flickered, circuits long dead. With a grunt, he pried the panel open, hotwiring the mechanism until gears screeched and the door shuddered ajar.
Inside lay a single containment box. Untouched. Gleaming beneath layers of dust.
April's eyes widened."Jackpot…"
The scanner confirmed: EX-MOD-09, high-grade synthetic heart. Value: 12,500 credits.And not just one—several modules, stacked neatly, as if waiting.
Max's lips parted in something close to a smile."With this, we could vanish from their eyes for months."
But before they could move, the air shifted.
A dull thud echoed. Then another. Heavy footsteps, boots grinding against broken glass.
April's sword hummed to life, its glow cutting across the dark."They've been watching us…"
Six figures emerged from the shadows. Fugitives, their bodies ragged with cybernetic grafts. Eyes burning with hunger, or madness.
One spat onto the floor."You think you can walk into our sector, scavengers? That box—belongs to us."
The room grew tight with heat, rain dripping from a crack in the ceiling as silence pressed in.
Max raised his rifle, his voice steady."Then come take it."
The fight erupted.
Plasma cracked through the air, sizzling against the walls. April ducked low, her blade slicing through a pipe—steam burst, clouding the room in thick white fog. Shadows moved fast within it.
A whip lashed through the haze, wrapping around Max's arm. The flesh seared—but before pain could register, it healed. Muscles knitting, skin reforming in seconds. Max yanked forward, dragging the fugitive off-balance into April's strike.
Her sword flashed, clean and merciless.
Two down. Four remained.
Bullets tore through the fog. Max fired back, his shots precise, forcing enemies to scatter. April weaved between blasts, blade clashing with steel, sparks hissing as neon light stuttered across the chamber.
One lunged with a jagged blade. Max's scanner blinked—Shock Edge detected. He ducked, the blade screeching inches from his face, frying the console behind him. With a snap-shot, Max blew the attacker back into the wall.
Rain dripped harder through the ceiling crack, mixing with blood pooling on the floor.
April's breath was ragged, her uniform stained."They're relentless…"
Max reloaded, eyes burning with focus."They're desperate. That makes them dangerous."
Finally, the last fugitive staggered, clutching a torn shoulder. He cursed, spitting blood, before stumbling back into the darkness. Silence returned—broken only by rain and the hiss of fried electronics.
The scanner blinked green. Box secure.
Max exhaled slowly. His hands, though bloodied, already healed. He glanced at April. She was trembling, not from fear—but exhaustion.
He placed a hand on her shoulder."One mistake here… and we're done."
April nodded, swallowing hard."Then let's not make any."
Max lifted the containment box, its weight heavy but promising. The Dead District had given them treasure—at a cost.
And deeper inside, it promised more.
As Max tightened his grip on the containment box, a low hum stirred beneath the floor—deep, mechanical, alive. April froze, her eyes widening.
"...Max," she whispered, her voice trembling.
The ruins weren't done with them.