?Listen up,? he began, his deep voice cutting through the quiet hum of activity. ?We’ve got a simple retrieval mission. Our supplier hid a cache of supplies outside the base in the Wastelands—food, ammo, tech. You’re going to get it back before the Ascended sniff it out.?
Cira glanced at the others. Liora adjusted the harness on her shoulders, her expression calm but focused. Aren leaned against the wall, checking the sharpness of his blade with idle precision, his posture radiating boredom. Evran, always the chatterbox, was busy spinning his knife between his fingers, a crooked grin on his face.
Taros turned his attention to Cira.
?Yes, sir,? Cira said, standing straighter under his scrutiny.
?And here.? He held out two familiar weapons: the energy blade and gun she had gotten from Jacc.
?These are yours,? he said, his tone brooking no argument. ?You’ve earned them. Don’t let me regret giving them back.?
She stepped forward and took them, the weight of the blade and gun oddly comforting. Taros gave her a nod before turning to address the group.
?Stick together. The Wastelands aren’t as empty as they look. If you see something, kill it. If you can’t, run. That’s it.?
He motioned toward the exit. ?Move out.?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cira’s boots crunched softly against the dry, cracked earth of the Wastelands. The terrain stretched endlessly in every direction, the horizon distorted by a faint shimmer of heat. Above, the sky was an ashen gray, a thick haze obscuring the sun. The occasional gust of wind stirred up plumes of fine dust, which clung to their clothes and stung at exposed skin.
Liora walked slightly ahead of the group, her sharp eyes scanning the barren landscape. Evran flanked her, his posture relaxed but his knife ready in his hand. Aren trudged along at the rear, his blade now secured at his hip, though his hand hovered close to it. Cira, in the middle of the group, let her gaze wander, noting familiar signs of the Wastelands she’d once called home.
To her right, a tangle of thorny vines coiled around a half-buried structure, their dark purple leaves glistening with a sticky resin. She paused, pointing at the plant.
?Don’t touch that,? she said, her tone firm. ?It’s Chokebind. The sap’ll burn right through your skin, and the thorns’ll inject you with venom that paralyzes in seconds.?
Evran leaned closer, eyebrows raised. ?Charming place, isn’t it?? He glanced at Liora. ?Our guide really does know her stuff.?
Liora nodded. ?Good. Keep calling things out if you see them, Cira. We can’t afford any accidents.?
The group moved forward, weaving through the desolate terrain. Occasionally, remnants of the past world poked through the dust—broken-down vehicles, crumbling walls, and skeletal remains of buildings, all slowly being consumed by the relentless Wastelands.
Evran broke the silence as they trudged along. ?So, Cira,? he began, his tone conversational, ?you grew up here? Must’ve been fun.?
Cira snorted softly. ?Fun isn’t the word I’d use. It’s mostly survival Outside the Village. That’s all it ever was.?
?Survival sounds fun to me,? Evran replied with a grin. ?You know, if you’re into constant danger, no food, and killer plants. All the best hobbies rolled into one.?
Liora shot him a warning glance. ?Focus.?
But Evran wasn’t easily deterred. ?So, Red Hood,? he continued, ignoring Liora. ?How’d you end up running with Cain? You two have some kind of dramatic rivalry I should know about??
Cira stiffened at the mention of Cain, her grip tightening on the strap of her pack. ?It’s not a rivalry,? she said tersely. ?He killed someone I cared about. That’s all you need to know.?
Evran’s grin faded slightly, but he nodded. ?Fair enough. Just thought you might have a good story there. You know, mortal enemies, betrayal, epic duels. The usual.?
Aren scoffed from the back. ?What are you even talking about, Evran? This isn’t one of your bar stories or Videogames.?
And yet, I’m the one keeping us entertained,” Evran quipped, flashing Aren a grin.
Cira, however, had stopped listening. Her eyes had locked onto something in the distance—a faint glint of metal, partially obscured by the sand. She stepped ahead of the group, kneeling to brush the dust away from the object.
?What is it?? Liora asked, approaching cautiously.
Cira pulled away a chunk of debris, revealing the edge of a doorway, its surface worn but still intact. ?Entrance,? she murmured.
Liora stepped closer, inspecting the faint markings on the metal. ?This must be the outpost.? She turned to the group. ?All right, everyone. Stay sharp. We don’t know what’s waiting for us inside.?
Evran smirked, rolling his shoulders. ?If it’s more killer plants, I’m out.?
Liora ignored him and signaled for the group to move in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The air inside the outpost was stifling, the faint smell of rust and decay mingling with the dust they kicked up as they stepped cautiously into the structure. Light from the Wasteland’s hazy sky filtered through cracks in the walls, casting jagged shadows across the floor.
Evran was the first to break the silence. ?Cozy. If you’re into decrepit death traps.?
?Keep your eyes open,? Liora said sharply, moving ahead with practiced precision.
They fanned out, scanning the room. It was clear this place had been abandoned for years, though traces of activity suggested someone had used it recently. At the far end of the room, two large boxes sat alongside several sturdy-looking bags. The sight immediately caught their attention.
?Jackpot,? Evran said, heading toward the supplies with a spring in his step.
?Careful,? Aren warned, following close behind.
As they approached, Cira noticed a strange marking on the boxes and bags—a stylized ?J? with an almost serpentine curve to it. Her breath hitched.
?No way,? she murmured, stepping closer to the boxes. She ran her fingers over the symbol, recognition sparking a mix of surprise and relief.
?You know this mark?? Liora asked, crouching beside one of the bags.
Cira nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile. ?It’s Jacc’s. I didn’t know he was working with the Godhunters.?
?Jacc?? Liora raised an eyebrow. ?That’s the guy’s name? We’ve been getting supplies with this mark for months, but no one knew who it belonged to.?
?Yeah, that’s him.? Cira’s voice softened. ?He’s... resourceful.?
Evran leaned against one of the boxes, grinning. ?Resourceful, huh? Sounds like someone you used to know. Old flame, maybe??
Cira shot him a glare. ?Shut up.?
He chuckled but stepped back as Liora pried one of the boxes open. Inside, neatly packed supplies gleamed under the dim light—rations, ammunition, medical kits, and a few energy cores.
Liora let out a low whistle. ?We hit the motherlode. Too bad we didn’t bring a vehicle.?
Aren groaned. ?We’re going to have to haul all of this back on foot, aren’t we??
Evran smirked. ?Think of it as a team-building exercise.?
Cira, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to the banter. Her gaze had fallen on something half-buried under the debris nearby. She crouched, brushing away the dust, and uncovered a pendant—small and unassuming, but unmistakable to her.
Her fingers trembled as she held it up. It was her brother’s.
She didn’t say anything, just clutched it tightly, her mind racing with memories.
?You okay?? Evran’s voice cut through her thoughts, uncharacteristically soft.
Cira nodded quickly, slipping the pendant into her pocket. ?Yeah. I’m fine.?
Liora had already moved ahead, calling Aren and Evran to help inspect a set of crates stacked against a wall in what must have once been a storage room. The metallic echo of their footsteps filled the desolate space as they pried open the rusted lids, the contents inside barely recognizable after years of decay.
?Rations, tools... weapons? Aren muttered, tossing aside a corroded knife. ?All in great condition.?
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
?As usual,? Liora said, setting aside a bundle of intact supply packs.
Evran grinned, holding up a sealed bottle of something amber-colored. ?Who wants to bet this is still drinkable??
Cira let the voices fade into the background. She glanced toward a shadowed doorway at the far side of the room, a faint instinct pulling her toward it. She stepped away quietly, her boots crunching over shards of metal and glass, and slipped into the adjacent chamber.
The air in here was heavier, the silence oppressive. The room had once been an armory—at least, that’s what the shattered weapon racks and discarded ammunition casings suggested. Dust coated everything, save for a single object resting on a workbench near the back.
Cira’s breath caught as she approached. The weapon was unlike anything she’d ever seen.
The hilt and grip were crafted from a smooth, dark alloy, with faint lines of blue running along its length, pulsing gently like veins. The blade—or what was left of it—was fragmented, jagged at the edges where it had once been whole. Despite its damaged state, the weapon gleamed as though untouched by time.
Cira knelt, running her fingers lightly over the hilt. The touch sent a faint vibration through her hand, almost as though the weapon was alive—or waiting. She could feel the intricate craftsmanship beneath her fingers, though it was clear the weapon was unfinished.
?What the hell are you doing in here?? Aren’s sharp voice startled her, and she spun around to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an accusatory glare in her eyes.
?I was looking around,”
? Cira replied defensively, straightening up. “Found this.” She gestured to the weapon.
Aren stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he examined it. ?That’s an Ascended Weapon…or shouldn’t be here? She reached for it. ?Let me see—?
Cira pulled it back instinctively, her grip tightening. ?I found it.?
?You don’t even know what it is,? Aren snapped, his tone full of disdain. ?You can’t just claim it!?
Before she could respond, Liora’s voice cut through the tension from the hallway. ?What’s going on in here?? She entered the room, her gaze moving between Cira, Aren, and the weapon.
?Cira thinks she can keep this,? Aren said, his voice low but angry.
Liora stepped closer, her eyes assessing the weapon. ?That’s an Arcblade,? she said, her tone shifting to one of quiet awe. ?They were prototypes, and Not much is known of them…At Least to me. This one looks… incomplete.?
?Doesn’t matter,? Aren argued. ?I should take it. She doesn’t even—?
?She found it,” Liora interrupted firmly. ?It’s hers.?
Aren clenched her fists but didn’t argue further, though her glare lingered on Cira.
Evran appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. ?Everything all right in here? You guys look like you’re about to kill each other.?
?We’re fine,? Liora said, her tone brooking no argument. She turned to Cira. ?You can keep it. But if you’re going to carry that thing, you’d better figure out how to use it.?
Cira nodded, though she could still feel Aren’s hostility as switched the Weapon Out with her Energy Blade, which she now held in her hands.
As the group made their way back toward the supplies, the air seemed to crackle with tension. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the Wastelands, the only other noise the occasional gust of wind sweeping across the barren landscape. The dull scrape of boots against dirt was the only rhythm to their march.
Evran had begun to joke again, trying to keep the mood light, but the laughter died on his lips as a low growl echoed from the shadows. Cira's eyes snapped to the sound, her hand instinctively tightening around the grip of her Weapon.
A creature emerged from the dust, its form sleek and muscular, with glowing, red eyes that flickered in the dim light. It was a Scythefang—a Wasteland predator, built for speed and savage efficiency. Its jaws were wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth, and its claws clicked against the cracked earth as it prowled toward them.
?Shit!? Evran cursed, backing away. ?Move!?
The Scythefang lunged, its powerful legs propelling it forward in a blur of motion. Evran barely managed to dodge its first swipe, but the creature was fast—too fast. Cira’s instincts kicked in, and she lunged forward, with her, still Not activated, Blade in Hand.
She swung it at the creature, aiming for its head. The blow landed, but only glanced off its thick fur. Only cutting off pieces of it. The Scythefang hissed, turning toward her with a growl, as Cira finally activated her blade.
?Aren, move!? she shouted as she saw the Scythefangs Attention going towards her. Aren stumbled too slow to avoid the creature’s next attack.
The beast was about to strike when Cira lunged, positioning herself between the creature and Aren. Her energy blade slashed across the creature’s side, creating a deep gash that sprayed a sickly black fluid. The creature howled in pain, its attention now fully focused on her.
Aren staggered to her feet. ?You—saved me.?
Cira didn’t respond, her eyes still tracking the creature as it recovered, clearly enraged. ?Stay back,? she warned, her voice cold.
The Scythefang snarled, black fluid dripping from its wound, its glowing red eyes locked onto Cira with a feral intensity. Its claws raked against the ground as it prepared to charge again.
Cira braced herself, her grip firm on the hilt of her energy blade. The creature lunged with lightning speed, and Cira dove to the side, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws. The movement sent her tumbling, and her energy blade slipped from her grasp, skittering across the ground.
?Damn it,? she hissed, scrambling back to her feet.
The Scythefang growled, shaking its head as black ichor oozed from the gash in its side. Its glowing red eyes locked on Cira, fury radiating from its every move. It lunged again, jaws snapping.
Cira twisted to dodge, but her boot slipped on loose rubble. She stumbled, and her energy blade slipped from her grasp, skidding across the ground and out of reach.
?Cira!? Evran’s voice called out, but she didn’t have time to look. The Scythefang was already upon her.
Without thinking, her hand shot to her sode, grabbing the Arcblade she’d slung there. She unsheathed it, feeling the unfamiliar weight in her hands. The blade hummed faintly, but its fragmented edge didn’t ignite like her energy blade had.
She gritted her teeth and swung.
The Arcblade sliced through the Scythefang’s thick hide with a sickening crack, embedding itself in the creature’s shoulder. The beast shrieked, black fluid spraying as it staggered back. Its movements became erratic, but it wasn’t done yet.
?Cira, keep it off balance!? Liora barked, stepping into position with her rifle raised.
The Scythefang roared and lunged at Cira again, forcing her to leap aside. She pivoted, wrenching the Arcblade free as she rolled to her feet. The weapon’s weight was awkward, the fragmented edge throwing off her balance, but it still bit deep.
Evran darted in from the side, slashing at the beast’s legs with his knife, creating another series of shallow cuts. ?We need to put this thing down now!?
?I’m trying!? Cira snapped, sidestepping another swipe of the creature’s claws. She swung again, aiming for its exposed side, but the beast twisted too quickly, and the blade missed.
Liora’s rifle fired, the sharp crack echoing through the desolate outpost. The bullet struck the Scythefang in the side, making it stagger but not stopping it.
It turned its rage toward Liora, who held her ground, loading another round.
?No, you don’t,? Cira growled, stepping in front of the beast’s path. She gripped the Arcblade tightly with both hands and swung upward in a desperate, arcing strike.
The blade tore through the creature’s chest, cutting deep enough to expose bone. The Scythefang let out a final, deafening howl before collapsing in a heap, its red eyes dimming as it bled out onto the cracked earth.
Cira stumbled back, panting, the Arcblade still clutched in her trembling hands.
Evran approached, wiping sweat from his brow. ?Well, that was exciting.? He glanced at the Arcblade, his eyebrows raising. ?You actually used that thing. Nice work.?
Cira didn’t respond, her focus still on the unmoving body of the Scythefang.
?You okay?? Liora asked, lowering her rifle as she approached.
?I’m fine,? Cira muttered, finally letting the Arcblade drop to her side. She glanced over at Aren, who was still catching his breath a few feet away.
?You saved me,? Aren said quietly, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and disbelief. ?I… thanks.?
Cira gave a curt nod but didn’t reply. She reached down to pick up her discarded energy blade, slipping it back into its holster.
Liora clapped her on the shoulder. ?Let’s grab what we can and get moving. The noise might have drawn more of these things.?
Cira wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing dirt across her skin as she bent to pick up her energy blade. The weapon felt familiar in her grip, its weight a comfort despite the chaos moments earlier. She slid it into its holster, glancing over her shoulder to see the others busy dividing the supplies.
Evran was crouched near a crate, pulling out packages of dried rations and stacking them into piles. ?We’ll need to travel light,? he said, glancing at Liora, who was sorting through ammunition. ?No sense in overloading ourselves out here.?
Liora nodded, inspecting a few rounds before pocketing them. ?Agreed. Food, water, and ammo are the priority. The rest…? She trailed off, tossing a broken radio to the side. ?Not Worth it.?
Aren was rummaging through another crate, pulling out medical supplies. ?We should keep as much of this as we can carry. Never know when we’ll need it.?
Cira approached cautiously, keeping the Arcblade slung across her back. ?What about the heavier equipment?? she asked, nodding toward a larger container in the corner.
Evran glanced at it, then shook his head. ?Too bulky. We’d burn more energy carrying that than it’s worth. We should send someone out with a vehicle.?
Cira knelt beside a smaller crate, pulling out a few sealed water canisters. She stacked them neatly with the rations, her movements methodical as her mind lingered on the Scythefang. It had been a long time since she’d been in a fight like that, and the fact that she’d survived—and saved Aren—still felt surreal.
?I’ll take these,? she said, pointing to the water and rations. ?They’re lighter. You three can handle the rest.?
Aren shot her a glance but said nothing, continuing to sort through her pile.
Liora looked up from her work, her sharp gaze settling on Cira. ?That weapon you found,? she said, her tone neutral. ?Do you know how to use it??
Cira hesitated, her hand brushing against the hilt of the Arcblade. ?Not really. It’s… different.?
?Well, different just saved our lives,? Evran said, standing and stretching his back. He gestured toward the supplies. ?Let’s load up and move before we attract more of those things.?
The group finished dividing the supplies, each taking as much as they could carry without slowing down. Cira adjusted the straps of her pack, the weight of the Arcblade a constant reminder of its presence.
As they prepared to leave, Aren approached her, her expression uncharacteristically soft. ?Thanks,? she said quietly, glancing down at her boots. ?For what you did back there. I owe you.?
Cira studied her for a moment before nodding. ?Just watch my back next time,? she said, her voice steady.
Aren gave a small smile, then turned to follow the others.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cira sat at the same table she’d claimed days ago, her bowl of soup untouched. This time, though, it wasn’t the stench of the food that put her off; her mind was spinning. She rolled Rian's Pendant in her Hand. The dining hall buzzed with subdued conversation, but she still felt apart from it all, caught in her own thoughts.
She glanced around, half-expecting the familiar sense of isolation to settle over her again, when a tray clattered onto the table in front of her.
?Figured you’d be here,? Evran said, sliding into the seat across from her with an easy grin. ?Mind if we crash your pity party??
Before she could respond, Liora and Aren appeared as well, both setting their trays down and taking seats without waiting for an invitation.
Cira raised an eyebrow. ?I didn’t realize I was hosting.?
?Think of it as community service,? Evran quipped, tearing into a chunk of bread. ?You looked like you needed company.?
Liora leaned back in her chair, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. ?Besides, Taros wanted me to pass along a message. Said you might want to hear it.?
Cira tensed slightly, her fingers tightening on the Pendant ?What is it??
Liora nodded toward the weapon. ?He took a closer look at that thing. Says it’s in rough shape, but the design is solid. Could be a game-changer once it’s fixed.?
Evran leaned forward, his interest piqued. ?So, what’s the catch? There’s always a catch.?
?The energy blade you’ve been using,? Liora said, glancing at Cira. ?Taros thinks we can salvage parts from it to repair the Arcblade. It’d take some work, but he’s confident it’ll be worth it.?
Cira frowned, her gaze dropping to the hilt of her current weapon, which was clipped securely to her belt. She’d grown attached to it during her time here—it had saved her life more than once.
?Why me?? she asked after a moment. ?Why not give this to someone more… experienced??
?Because you found it,? Liora said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. ?And because Taros thinks you’re capable. He’s not the kind of guy to waste resources on someone he doesn’t believe in.?
Aren, who had been quiet until now, nodded. ?She’s right. Besides, after what you did today… you’ve earned it.?
Cira’s lips pressed into a thin line, her chest tightening at the unexpected support. She looked down at the Arcblade again, the faint glow of its core flickering like a heartbeat.
?Guess I don’t have much of a choice, then,? she muttered.
?Not really,? Evran said with a grin. ?But hey, think of it this way—you’ll be the only one here with a fancy blade like that. Instant badass points.?
Cira couldn’t help the faint smirk that crossed her face. The weight of the day’s events still lingered, but for the first time, it felt just a little lighter.
Then, Evran launched into a dramatic retelling of the Scythefang encounter to some of the other Godhunterd. ?And then,? he said, gesturing wildly, ?Cira leaps in, all heroic-like, slashing that thing across the face! It was like a scene out of a storybook.?
?It wasn’t that dramatic,? Cira said, shaking her head, though a small smile crept onto her lips.
?Oh, it was,? Evran insisted. ?The beast was ten feet tall if it was an inch, and its fangs were like daggers.?
Aren rolled his eyes. ?It wasn’t even half that size.?
?Details, details,? Evran said, waving him off. ?The point is, Cira saved our asses, and we all owe her big time.?
Liora snorted softly, a rare sign of amusement. ?Maybe tone down the embellishments before Taros hears about this.?
Evran winked. ?Never. I have a reputation as a storyteller to maintain.?
Cira found herself laughing quietly, the tension of the day easing as the conversation turned to lighter topics. For the first time since joining the Godhunters, she felt a flicker of something unfamiliar: belonging.