Chapter 1

Shhrrriiiikk sshhhrriik shrriik. The sound of the sharpening stone seemed hypnotic to me. I simply repeated the process of passing the stone over my blade over and over. Over and over. It calmed me more than anything else seemed able to. I tried focusing on it as much as I could. The blade was as sharp as it was ever going to get. Which wasn't saying much. It was spotted with rust and had several chips in the blade that no amount of polishing would ever fix. I needed to do something, however.

If I thought of what I was about to do I would start to shake again. It was best to not think about it. Nothing could be changed now. My course was set. Probably long before I even knew it. Rats can't escape their fate. Those born on the bottom would never rise to the top. The sound of the sharpening stone seemed to grind away the last of my stupid idealism and naivety bit by bit.

My friends told me my naive thoughts were foolish. They told me the best people like us could hope for was to survive. Time seems to have proved them right. It simply took a while longer for me to realize the truth of their words. They aren't around to tell me they told me so though.

When John caught typhoid I still held out hope. Foolishness. When I came to his home and I could hear his mother screaming and crying I knew he had given into the sickness and died.

When Alex got caught stealing food I was sure it would be alright. It was nothing but a bag of rice, right? Surely he could be forgiven. Naive. The merchant demanded the harshest punishment. The guards cut little Alex's hand off. Within two weeks the infection had set in and Alex was gone.

When the sirens sounded and the gunshots could be heard throughout the night, I hoped that no one I knew would be claimed. Stupid. Sandra and her father didn't survive the night. Their little shack was coated in blood and little pieces of flesh and bone the next morning along with several of their neighbors "houses". I remember throwing up at the sight.

The outer circle's walls were far too low. The guard was too lax and spread thin. Only rats reside in the outer circle. Why would the nobles ever invest in the safety of rats?

Even then I held out hope. It would be different for me. The world was dark, but there is always light... right? When I woke up a week ago and found my mother collapsed on the floor, understanding started to dawn. It started to truly sink in.

When the quack doctor that was the best us rats could hope for told me she needed medicine or she would die hope flared anew. When he told me the price, it died.

How could a rat ever afford that? 30 silver for a month. Just a month worth of medicine was 30 silver. That was the price of my mother's life. Not even her life. Just of a month of it.

I couldn't ever find that much. Selling scrap or doing some day labor wouldn't even get me a tenth of that. It's was impossible. Unless I did something truly desperate.

And that was what I was currently doing. Something desperate. My mother's heart was failing. What else could I do? So I joined the scavengers. When I showed up with a bag of groceries and two months medicine my mother didn't understand.

When I told her what I had done she was at first furious. Then she cried. I'd never heard her cry like that. It was a piercing sound. As if her soul was being ripped apart. It was as if she already thought I was dead. I guess she wasn't really wrong to think so.

Only fools or madmen join the scavenger. I stood motionlessly as she gripped me. I think she thought if she hugged me tight enough I wouldn't have to leave her.

But here I was. Sharpening a blade I barely even knew how to use. I would rather use a gun, but it was too expensive. A single tiny useless cap gun was 1 months supply of medicine for my mother.

Nobody dodges a contract with the scavengers. Or more appropriately the nobles backing them. Nobody who wanted their family to live. That was why they paid in advance. That and because no one would accept a job on the basis of money they would most likely never get to spend.

My mother's desperate hug couldn't keep me from the fate I had resigned myself too. I gave her the last thirty-seven silver from my contract and left.

I thought about the look in her eyes as she fixed my collar this morning. I tried to remember the feel of her hands as she smoothed the shirt over my shoulder and touched my cheek. She tried her best to put a smile on for me, but I could see the cold despair in her eyes as tears trickled out of them.

Her breathing came in little gasping sobs as her body shook. I couldn't bring myself to cry in front of her. I don't know how I did it, but I smiled and assured her everything would be fine. We both knew the truth though. Nothing would ever be fine again.

The sound of someone wretching broke me from my trance. Looking over towards the sound I saw the man currently puking his guts out. He wasn't the first man to puke today. He probably wouldn't be the last.

Two rows of benches lined the walls on either side of a wide corridor. I guessed it was at least eight meters wide. The benches were full of fools like me. Or madmen. I wondered which of the two I was.

Some of the men occupied themselves as I did. Some of them mumbled to themselves and shook. Some seemed ready to Sprint for the nearest hole to climb into. A few even seemed pumped and excited. Those were the madmen no doubt. And fewer still were silent and steady. Those were the veterans. There were shockingly few of them.

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They say the mortality rate among scavenger is over fifty percent... for one trip. They say for first timers it's even higher. Who knows the truth though. They don't release the numbers. Bad for recruitment I guess. Or maybe they just don't care to count. We are just rats after all.

The outer circle is said to have 250 thousand rats living in it. We rats lived in total poverty and filth. They called us rats as a joke. As in, we breed like rats. The name stuck. We even call ourselves rats.

Crime and death are rampant in the outer circle. Disease, theft, rape, murder. Even slavery. All of humanities worst facets on display. Nobody seems to care. Nobody with any power at least.

Those who are lucky get to work in the factories. Those even luckier few work in the middle circle as little more than servants to the middle and upper class. I honestly doubt any rat has ever seen the inner circle. Well, maybe a few. But I wouldn't call them lucky.

Rumors say that beautiful girls are brought to the inner circle from time to time, never to be seen again. The authorities denounce such rumors, but rumors still spread despite authority. It's human nature.

As I sat there contemplating the world and my shitty spot in it a sound began to catch my ear. A rhythmic thumping that seemed to draw closer. I looked down the corridor in the direction of the inner city and saw the lights first. They don't light the corridors well in the outer wall so the lights seemed almost blinding in the dim corridor. The lights moved side to side, up and down in tune with the rhythmic thumping. As the sound and lights drew close I figured out what caused them.

Down the corridor walked a file of giants made of metal. Light poured out of their chests and heads. Or should I say helmets? Each step they took sent tremors through the ground. These "giants" stood nearly five and a half meters high with thick barrel like bodies. They had legs like tree trunks and arms to match. Each held what seemed to be oversized machine guns and had massive swords attached to their backs. As they drew closer dust and grit started to trickle down from the ceiling.

Every man waiting beside me now had their eyes glued to the giants. I could hear a single word on many of their mouths. Knights. That's was what these behemoths were. Or more aptly the men inside them. The dream occupation of every little boy.

A voice rang out from one of the giants carrying the tin like quality speakers seemed to always add to a voice. It crushed any remaining childhood dreams of honor and chivalry among knights like in the tales of old.

"So you all our the bait and meat shield this time around? Ha! What a joke! What do they even feed you Rats? You're all skin and bone. It won't even take half a second for a core beast to eat one of you up and move on! That's no good. You sad sacks are supposed to buy us at least 2 seconds so we can do the REAL work and kill the core beast! Hahahaha"

The voice seemed to come from the knight leading the formation. I instantly disliked the man. He was torturing us. I could hear one of the younger men among us begin to cry and smelled an awful stench start to spread from that direction. I pitied the boy. I was one of the younger men among this group at 19 but he seemed even younger than I.

Honestly, I would probably be crying and shitting myself as well if I hadn't already given up all hope. Sure I would fight to survive, but I knew the odds. Maybe I could survive the first trip, but eventually I would die as food for some crazed core beast.

Joining the scavengers wasn't a long term solution. It just bought time for my mother. The thought comforted me. Mother. She was my reason to live. My reason to fight. Crapping myself and losing it would do her no good.

The lead knight seemed to have got his jollies off enough and kept walking. The rest of the file seemed no less menacing or arrogant. They sneered at us through their reinforced glass visors. As the file of knights passed us I began counting. One, two, three, ..... twelve. Twelve knights all outfitted in the same armor type.

They called this armor series GOLIATHS. They were the basics of the basics. Clunky, heavy, clumsy. But what they lacked in finesse they made up for in pure power.

Every kid grew up and learned as much as they could about armor in the hope one day they could operate one. Even these piece of junk armor was more than any rat could ever hope to lay hands on.

The GOLIATH armor was new world made. New world as in after everything fell apart. After the core beasts destroyed everything. These knights may be arrogant but they were the bottom of the barrel as far as knights go. Bottom wrung warriors.

New world armor was notoriously clunky and barbaric and the GOLIATH was one of the worst. Only good for hitting things hard. Only some of the major cities to the north could even begin to produce any good armor types.

Still, they stood at nearly three times my height covered in steel and had enough power in their mechanical limbs to smash me flat. I wasn't about to start making fun of these knights for their bottom shelf armor.

As the knights came to the end of the corridor they stopped at the massive metal gates and turned. They seemed to be waiting for something. Minutes ticked by and eventually, another sound started to echo down the corridor. This sound much lighter and less jarring. My head swiveled to look at the source. No lights came with the sound this time. No big tremors and falling dust from the ceiling.

From further down the corridor came another metal giant. This one different however. This armor was sleeker and slimmer. Smaller as well. Though still easily four meters tall. It's movements more fluid and less ponderous. There was no loud thump with every step. No creak or scrape of metal. No sound of hydraulics.

It was shocking silent except for the sound of shifting grit and gravel under Its feet and a very soft electric mechanical sound. Its metal plating seemed to flow over it and I couldn't see any gaps at all.

There was no clear glass as a vizor that could be easily used as a weak spot to aim for. The face was pure metal all the way around and what looked like two gem like protrusions that were really sensors and cameras were mounted on its faceplate where eyes should be. The armor had an odd sheen to it making it look unlike any metal I had ever seen.

My mouth went agape with shock and envy. This was an old world armor! Made before the fall of civilization. Made with technology mankind was only just beginning to rediscover and unlock. Made with knowledge beyond our current ability. This armor must be at least 500 years old but still worked like new. Or at least mostly like new. I hadn't ever seen an old world armor before.

Rumors said old world armor wasn't just a machine. They said it bonded with the knight. Only that knight could pilot it so long as he lived. On more than one occasion a knight had been killed for the express reason of "freeing" up his armor.

Old world armor was the dream of every knight. Some of the old world armor was rumored to be so powerful it could take on dozens of other knights based off the stats and the capabilities of the armor alone!

Every man seemed filled with awe. Even the GOLIATH pilots seemed hushed and subdued. A crystal clear voice rang out from the armor.

"Are we ready?"

The voice was filled with confidence and class. I immediately knew this knight was a noble.

The lead GOLIATH knight answered respectfully.

"Yes, sir. Ready when you are."

The new arrival nodded his massive metal head and said.

"Then let's begin."

And the massive metal gates began to open.