As I climbed higher, the fog thinned, exposing the skeletal remains of the city. Poison and chaos retreated, leaving behind only a hollow, oppressive silence. The frantic pulse of life had been snuffed out, replaced by the occasional drip of condensation from rusting beams overhead.
Darkness enveloped the scene, save for the jittery glow of malfunctioning lights casting angular shadows against corroded walls. This wasn't refuge—it was the husk of a world long forgotten. The threats felt distant now, muffled by the eerie quiet.
Then, a low thumping cut through the silence, faint like a distant heartbeat that didn’t belong. It gnawed at the edge of my awareness. I slowed, letting it pull me deeper, each step syncing with the sound. The soft whirr of failing tech buzzed around me like a dying insect.
I rounded a corner, and there it was: a crater that shouldn't have existed, as if the city itself had been devoured by some giant beast. Twisted metal jutted from the bottom, debris strewn like shattered bones. A low, mournful wail drifted up from the depths, the ghost of destruction still lingering.
Something moved in the rubble—shadowy figures flitting between jagged concrete and sparks of exposed wires. I edged closer, squinting through the flickering haze. A flash of synthetic light seared through the fog, burning an afterimage into my vision before vanishing as if it had never been there.
I hesitated, but the thumping grew louder, echoing in my skull, syncing with my pulse. Something was wrong. My fists clenched as I tried to push through the noise, but it burrowed deeper into my mind, relentless.
“Arvie, you picking this up?” My voice felt distant, like someone else was speaking.
A pause, then her voice, tinged with concern. “Hold on... scanning.”
The thumping intensified, consuming every thought, until, suddenly—it stopped. The silence was deafening.
“It wasn’t real,” Arvie’s voice broke through, uneasy. “You were picking up a distress beacon, but your interface is busted. It twisted the signal into that sound.”
I blinked, the weight of reality settling back in. “So, it was all in my head?”
“Pretty much. Your Neurolink’s busted—it was feeding you scrambled signals. Lucky it didn’t fry your brain.”
I rubbed my temples, trying to shake off the lingering headache. “What’s this interface even supposed to do?”
“It connects you to external signals—comms, data feeds, distant calls, the works. But with it damaged, things get... weird.”
“Great,” I muttered. “One more thing to worry about.”
Arvie’s voice was lighter now, playful. “Just another day in paradise, master. At least now we know it’s a distress beacon. Could be someone in trouble—or a trap.”
“Why can I still hear you?” I asked, confusion gnawing at the edges of my mind.
“Because, darling, I’m in your head,” she replied, a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “No malfunctioning Neurolink’s going to shut me up.”
Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. Of course, she was right. I cleared my throat and refocused on the environment. The oppressive thumping had faded, replaced by an eerie calm that felt almost too quiet.
A door, half-buried under debris, caught my eye. It was reinforced, scarred by deep gouges and burn marks. “Let’s hope it’s not a trap.” I muttered, stepping closer.
“Maybe they left us a gift,” Arvie quipped, her tone gleeful. “Could be good, could be bad. I’m betting on good.”
I tapped into my mind console. Overriding the security was a delicate dance, Arvie guiding me with sharp quips and banter.
The door finally groaned open, and I stepped into the bunker. A wave of stale air hit me, metallic and dank. I sealed the door behind, shutting out the toxic world.
Inside, flickering emergency lights cast erratic shadows down narrow corridors. The hum of ancient machinery was the only sound, a mechanical lullaby in the stillness.
In a storage room, I found sparse supplies—medical kits, rations, water bottles. Not much, but it’d do. Deeper still, I stumbled upon a small dormitory, the disarray of blankets hinting at recent chaos.
And then I saw them—two figures huddled over a battered table, ration packs and tools scattered. Their heads jerked up, startled.
“Who’s there?” A grizzled man stepped forward, weapon in hand, his eyes a wary mix of suspicion and relief. His companion, a younger woman, sat rigid, clutching a first-aid kit.
I raised my hands. “Not here to cause trouble. Just need shelter. Supplies.” My rasping voice sounded strange to my own ears.
They exchanged glances before the man nodded, his grip on the weapon loosening. “Fine. We’re running low, but there’s still a bit to share. Just keep the peace.”
“Trust me,” I muttered, “I’m too tired to cause trouble.”
I sat, exhaustion heavy on my bones. They handed me a can of preserved food and water. The protein tasted like nothing, but I didn’t care—I was starving.
The man introduced himself as Jaraek, the woman as Reya. They explained they’d been stuck here since the city fell, trapped in this bunker beneath the ruins. “We couldn’t leave—not with the poison in the air and whatever else prowls beyond.”
I nodded. “Seems I’ve got some resistance to the poison,” I said, my voice gravelly. “I can go out, scout around—see if there’s a safer place to hole up. Maybe find more survivors. But first, I need a rest. It’s been a rough journey.”
Feeling their curious gaze, I looked up from my meal, water clearing the fog in my head. “Wish I could tell you my name, but... I don’t remember. Woke up with no memories. It’s all blank.”
The silence hung heavy, broken only by the low hum of the ventilation system. Then Arvie’s voice slipped into my thoughts, almost playful. “A mysterious amnesiac with a knack for surviving the impossible. I like it. Makes for a good story, don’t you think? How about we call you ‘Echo’? It’s got a certain resonance.”
A rough laugh clawed its way out of my throat, ending in a ragged cough. “Echo, huh? That’ll do... for now.”
Jaraek raised an eyebrow, skepticism flashing in his eyes. Reya, though, gave a small, understanding smile, something warmer than I’d expected. “Echo it is, then,” she said, the name settling in the air like it belonged there. “Until you remember more.”
Jaraek leaned in, eyes sharp as blades in the dim light. “You say you can withstand the poison out there? That’s not a gift many possess, not without a mask or filter. And you’re certainly not one of the ghouls.”
The word snagged my attention. “Ghouls? What are they?” I asked, then sighed. "Look, I'm a blank slate here. You have to fill in the details."
Jaraek’s face darkened. “Ghouls are what’s left of those touched by the Nether—the twisted, choked jungle beyond the city’s edge. The miasma there corrupts everything, warps it—plants, beasts, people. They’ve found a way to live in it, but they paid dearly. They’re not truly human anymore, not in any way that counts. Sometimes they drift too close to the city, or find their way into the mines. And when they do, they’re taken, put to work where the air is just as thick and cruel. They survive where no one else can.”
I nodded slowly. “So, I’m not one of them?”
“No,” Jaraek said, his tone firm. “You’re something different. And that makes it all the more curious. If you could find us a safer place, well... that’d be something to hang our hopes on.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied, finishing off the last of the food. “I’ll scout around, see if there’s any way to improve our situation.”
Reya’s hands shook slightly as she handed me another bottle of water, her fingers brushing mine for a moment, the connection brief but grounding. “We appreciate it, truly. We were... starting to lose hope.”
As I drank, Jaraek leaned in, voice low. “We don’t know what’s out there, but it’s nothing good. This bunker... it’s the last scrap of safety we’ve got.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of the poisoned world pressing in. I’d survived the miasma, but for how long?
“You shall rest,” Jaraek said. “Tomorrow, we figure out what comes next.”
I set the bottle down, feeling a spark of something new take hold. “Let’s see what’s out there, then. For now, I’ll rest and prepare.” We exchanged nods, a silent understanding settling between us. For the first time since I woke up in this shattered world, I felt a flicker of hope.490Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdyFp77tjd5
