Atlas and Alexander stared at the sky, the red flares casting an ominous glow against the darkening horizon. Two more sets of flares shot up, each from a different direction. Alexander turned to Atlas, concern etched on his face, "What should we do? I don’t think we’ll be able to make any difference if we split up."
Atlas clenched his jaw, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He knew that if he divided their team of twenty into two groups of ten, they might all be wiped out, depending on the size of the bandit attack. And he was almost certain it was another bandit attack.
‘Fuck‘, he thought, his mind racing. ‘This is not what I was expecting. This is not what I wanted. We’ve done so well this time around with the portals, but fuck, this is a decision I don’t want to have to make.‘
He exhaled sharply, steeling himself for what was to come. "We’re going to have to pick one," he finally said, his voice heavy with resignation.
Without further hesitation, they ran towards the flares on the right. When they arrived, they found John and his group of five Portal Crushers being overwhelmed by bandits. The bandits outnumbered them, but Atlas, Alexander, and their team of twenty quickly jumped into the fray. In a brutal and efficient fight, they killed the bandits, saving John's group. They quickly looted the weapons and coins. Speed was of the essence, so they didn’t strip the corpses of armor.
Now numbering twenty-five, they rushed towards where the other red flare had been fired. What they found there was a sight they wished they had never seen. Evelynh and Kingsley lay dead, their bodies strewn across the ground. The porters they had brought with them were also killed, along with two new warriors in training. The packs the porters had carried were ransacked, and the group's weapons and armor had been stripped away. A broken cestus still lay nearby Kingsley’s corpse.
The Portal Crushers were stunned. Death was always an unpleasant companion in the wasteland, but it had never hit them like this. Atlas felt a deep, burning anger mixed with a profound sense of loss.
“FUCCCCKKK!”
It had been his decision to go right, and this time it had led him astray, Atlas thought. ‘How the fuck did this happen? I trained for a year, I've trained these guys for a year, and still bandits can fucking kill us? I am the worst leader in the world. Fuuuuck.‘
Evelynh had always brought light and cheer to the camp, and now that light was extinguished. Alexander, too, was devastated, silent tears rolling down his face as he realized he would never share another joke with Kingsley.
"Carry their bodies back," Atlas said, his voice flat but firm. "We’re going to have to make plans for changes." His voice was unemotional. He couldn't show weakness with the rest of the Portal Crushers watching him, all depending on him for leadership. But he knew in his head that he had failed yet again.
‘I can't protect everyone. No matter how hard I try, someone will always slip through the cracks, just like today. The wasteland doesn’t care about our plans or our strength; it chews us up and spits us out without a second thought. But damn it, I’m not giving up. I'll make us stronger, smarter. I'll push them until they’re as tough as the god damn wasteland itself. They depend on me, and I won't fail them again. We’ll adapt, we’ll fight harder, and next time… next time, we’ll be ready. Even if I can’t save them all, I’m sure as hell going to make sure they have the best chance possible.‘
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In solemn silence, they lifted the bodies of their fallen comrades and began the long, painful journey back to Fort Bone. Each step was heavy with grief, the reality of their losses settling in. This was the Portal Crushers' first deaths. When they reached the Portal Crushers' camp, Amber rushed to meet them, her face pale with worry. "Oh my God, what’s going on?"
Atlas didn’t respond immediately. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Bring us to the area behind the castle," he finally said, "where we can set up a memorial."
Amber nodded, leading them to a quiet spot behind the castle walls. It was a place they had designated earlier for any memorials, though none of them had expected to use it so soon. They laid down the bodies, the weight of their losses pressing down on them like a physical force.
As they stood there, looking down at their fallen friends, Atlas knew that things would have to change. This was a harsh reminder of the world they were in, and they would need to be stronger if they were going to survive it.
Atlas stood amidst the quiet, the weight of the recent loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. "Everyone," he called out, his voice tinged with a sorrow that mirrored the faces around him, "start gathering up wood and bones. Whatever scrap we can find—we’re making them a pyre."
With the possibility of undead, Atlas didn’t want to risk the thought of his Portal Crushers rising up and fighting him again.
There was no hesitation, only the shared grief driving each of the Portal Crushers to action. They moved in a silent, sombre procession, collecting what they could from the remnants of the wasteland.
It wasn’t long before a massive pyre stood ready. The bodies of Evelynh, Kingsley, and the rest of their team were gently laid upon it, their final resting place in this desolate world. The group gathered around, their eyes reflecting the flickering flames. Atlas stepped forward, knowing the moment had come to speak, to honour those they had lost.
"Evelynh and Kingsley weren’t just fighters," he began, his voice carrying across the silent crowd, "they were the heart and soul of our group. Evelynh’s laughter could lift the darkest of days, and Kingsley’s strength was something we all leaned on. They stood by us, not just in battle, but in every moment we needed them. They were the first to step up, the last to back down, and always there to remind us of the light we’re fighting for, even in this wasteland. I can’t say I know the others as well. They were excited this morning to start their adventure in the wasteland. But now their souls have returned to the beyond. Today, we say goodbye to our own, but we will carry their spirit with us. They showed us what it means to live, even when surrounded by death. And that’s something none of us will ever forget."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle over the assembly. There was no comfort to offer, only the harsh truth that the wasteland had claimed it’s due. His tone grew sombre, and the sadness in his voice was unmistakable as he continued, "This won’t be the end of it. I wish I could say it was. But this is the wasteland. This is why we call it an apocalypse. Out of the people here," he glanced around at the hundred or so members of the Portal Crushers, "not everyone’s going to be going home. I wish it would be different, but it isn’t. That’s why we’ve got to try our very best to always remember what we’re fighting for. Why we’re Portal Crushers."
He selected the item he had hoped never to buy: a memorial tablet. With the press of a button, a 20-foot-tall memorial tablet materialised in the area they had designated as their graveyard. As the flames began to lick at the pyre, consuming the bodies of their fallen comrades, Evelynh and Kingsley’s names, along with the newcomers, engraved themselves onto the stone tablet, forever etched into the history of the Portal Crushers.
Atlas watched the names appear, the weight of the loss settling deep within him. ‘I hope I never have to see another name on that memorial‘, he thought, as the fire crackled and roared, sending their ashes into the darkened sky.