Chapter 14

Cassix Station

[Now Playing: Losu Track #55 Eterna Forest]

Cassix Station was a tangled skeleton of metal, its beams twisting out of the cracked earth like the bones of a long-dead giant. Decades of sandstorms had eaten away at the structure, leaving it jagged and corroded. At its centre, the silhouette of a broken radar tower leaned precariously, its shadow stretched thin against the dusky horizon.

The Dame rolled along the crumbling tarmac with a rumble, her wheels kicking up small puffs of dust and grit. The cracked road here was a rarity in the wastelands, but it seemed as worn and beaten as everything else.

“We’ll grab some supplies and stay the night,” Matthias said. “But we’re not staying any longer than we have to.”

Maia nodded, though she wasn’t about to argue. She’d never liked Cassix Station. Fires crackled in makeshift pits scattered around the encampment, the scent of roasting meat and spiced roots curling through the air, but it did little to make the place feel welcoming. This wasn’t a home to anyone. It was a waypoint, a brief respite for wanderers before they braved the wastes again.

SShe scanned the travellers gathered there—rugged figures with weathered skin and battered gear. Some tinkered with skimmers that looked held together by sheer stubbornness, others loaded supplies onto wiry pack beasts with knotted ropes. That it was always busy here was strange, considering the sheer isolation of the place, but nobody dared linger too long. Not just because of the wasteland's dangers, but because of something else.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Maia muttered, her fingers tapping idly against the dashboard.

Matthias gave her a sideways glance as he brought the Dame to a halt near a cluster of vehicles that looked like they’d seen better centuries.

"Safer to stop here than out in the open," he said, though his tone was distracted. His eyes were already scanning the encampment. “Something about this place keeps the scuttlers and all the other nasties in the wastelands away.”

"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," Maia replied, rolling her eyes. She leaned forward, squinting at a cluster of travellers around a fire.

“We’ll keep to ourselves, just re-supply and rest up. Stay close to the Dame.” His eyes fixed on a group of rough looking men wearing mismatched scavenged armour. “And stay alert.”

He opened his door and stepped out. Maia followed, jumping down onto the cracked asphalt. She cast a glance up at the strange tower over the makeshift camp, the faint feeling of unease prickling at the back of her neck.

“What even was this place?” she asked.

“Some kind of military base during the Verdant war,” Matthias replied, making his way over to what looked like a travelling merchant.

“Could there be anything useful in the ruins?” she pressed, trailing behind him.

“Not a chance. This place has been picked clean for decades.”

“Were you ever here? You know, when it was operational?” She tried again.

“No. It was ruins before I even enlisted,” he said, his tone gruff. “One of the first spots the Verdant landed in this region.”

“Why here?”

“Why build a base here?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Why did the Verdant land here of all places?”

“Not sure,” Matthias shrugged, his attention already drifting back to the merchant. His usual signal that he wasn’t in the mood for a long conversation.

SMaia sighed, rolling her eyes at his retreating back. He could be infuriatingly tight-lipped sometimes. Shaking her head, she turned her focus inward, tapping into her overlays. The last few days had been a whirlwind of discovery, her Arcanum system’s new scanning functions keeping her occupied. With a flicker of intent, her vision lit up with faint markers and a ripple of data scrolling across her view.

There had to be something interesting here—something new. She focused her gaze on the sprawling wreckage around them, the tangled beams and crumbling structures. Maybe there was a patch of flora hidden around somewhere.

Just as she activated the scan, a bold message burst into Maia’s vision:

Energy anomaly detected. Residual source intensity:

Moderate. Location: 17 meters southeast.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Maia froze mid-step, her father still walking ahead, oblivious.

That was strange. What’s an… energy anomaly? Her curiosity sparked, and she turned slowly toward the marked direction. Her father didn’t even glance back.

Residual energy signature identified. Source: Fatebond nexus site.

“Fatebond nexus?” she murmured aloud. Her overlays had flagged plenty of things over the last few days—plants, ruins, scuttler trails—but this… this was different. She focused on the anomaly, and the text shifted to reveal a map of the base. A glowing orange marker pulsed in the shadow of an old storage building, its broken roof leaning precariously against the tower’s skeletal remains.

“Ba,” Maia called over her shoulder, her tone cautious. “You ever see something like this before?”

Site registered as Nexus #47-Beta. Activation date: Local year 815.

Associated entities: Archon scravs.

Purpose: Assignment and resolution of divine mandates.

“What is it?” her father turned, his brow furrowed. “What are you seeing?” She could see in the corner of her eye that he was walking back to her now.

“This place was called ‘Fatebond Nexus’?” she read, “47-Beta? Whatever that means?”

“Huh, the Arcanum is telling you that?”

“Yeah. Did you know?”

“Not the name, no. But there’d been whispers about this place during the war. Big push to reclaim it, resources poured in like it was the Archon’s holy grail. Then—just like that—the Generals stopped caring. Scrapped it. Wrote the place off. If it was a Nexus… well, that explains a lot.”

Maia cocked her head, her confusion deepening. “What’s a Nexus, though?”

Matthias’s chuckle was dry and humorless. “A Nexus is where the Archons made scravs… the Verdant didn’t have scravs when they first arrived here. They must have used this place to figure out how to make their own.”

He turned to start heading back towards the merchant but Maia was left with a sour taste in her mouth. The Archons made scravs here?

“But ba…” she ran after him. “Scravs… scravs are people, right? Human?”

“‘Course they are,” his eyes cautiously on the groups around them.

“So did the Archons make us—them,” she quickly corrected.

“Scravs are infused with a sliver of the Archon’s power. This is what gives them their abilities. It just comes all interlinked with the Fatebond too. This could only be done at a Nexus point—like this one.”

“But what is a Nexus point? Why could it only be done here?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, clearly done with the conversation, and started back toward the merchant. Maia realised that was about all she was going to get from her father on the topic.

Maia lingered, her gaze locked on the crumbling storage building. Its walls were cracked and worn, covered in layers of faded graffiti left by passing travellers.

There were crude messages—half warnings, half jokes—about scuttlers, the heat, and other monsters of the wastes. Bright bursts of colour, swirling patterns of blues, yellows, and reds, marked where some nomad with a steady hand had once taken the time to create art simply because they could. A pair of eyes, hauntingly lifelike, stared out from one corner, while another section bore a chaotic riot of shapes that looked like desert fox. One section of the wall had been painted to look like the desert sky, using the cracks in the concrete, edged in pink and purple to represent the cracks in the sky.

Even here, in the middle of nowhere, people liked to leave a mark. To create something beautiful in the harshest and ugliest of places. To carve out some sliver of identity.

Maia made her way over to it, let her fingers trail along the surface of the wall as she followed the marker. She reached a portion of the wall were the concrete had crumbled so much she could fit through. She glanced inside and saw a tangled mess of broken machinery and debris.

She’d been about to slip through when she heard her father calling her away from the ruin. Maybe later. She jogged over to where Matthias was haggling with the merchant. He was already stuffing supplies into a worn canvas pack by the time she reached them, his focus on the task at hand.

“That everything you need?” the merchant asked, his tone casual as he handed over another bundle.

“That’s all,” Matthias replied, cinching the pack tight.

“You folks heading east?”

“Yeah!” Maia grinned, ready to spill their plans. “We’re going to—”

“—just east,” Matthias cut her off with a glance that clearly said keep your mouth shut.

“Just came that way myself,” the merchant shrugged, he seemed an affable guy. “Few scuttlers roaming, some bandits too. Best mind yourselves. How’s the road back to Red Market?”

“Same as always,” Matthias grunted, his tone curt.

“Met some travellers a few days back,” the merchant said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “Claimed there’s some kind of wraith lurking out there on the road.”

Maia perked up at that. “A wraith?”

“Didn’t see anything like that,” Matthias replied, already sounding dismissive.

“Oh, you know how folks get,” the merchant chuckled, though there was a nervous edge to it. “Always claiming to see boogiemen and ghouls out in the dark. But this lass, she was pale as a sheet, swore up and down she’d never take that road again while that thing’s out there.”

“What’d she say it looked like?” Maia asked, her curiosity piqued.

The merchant scratched at his scruffy beard, clearly enjoying the chance to spin a little drama. “Like a man, she said. Draped in shadows, but pale as bone with a big, creepy smile that don’t go away.”

Maia shivered, that sounded too much like that thing she’d seen back at the Verdant skyship. She glanced briefly at Matthias, he didn’t so much as flinch.

“Probably just some creep,” Matthias said flatly. “If he’s a danger, Red Market’s city guards’ll put a bounty on him soon enough. Wouldn’t worry about it.”

The merchant gave a noncommittal grunt. “Maybe. Still, keep your wits about you out there. Folks’ll say all sorts of things to scare themselves, but sometimes… sometimes there’s truth to it. Heard also there’d been some bother with some scravs at Red Market, youknow anything about it?”

Maia opened her mouth to speak again but her father quickly responded. “No, we just passed through Red Market, didn’t stick around that long,” he said curtly, adjusting the pack on his shoulder. His tone made it clear the conversation was over. “Thanks for the supplies.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sir,” The merchant chuckled, unfazed. “Always good to offload some goods before the next trading hub. Safe travels to you.”

Matthias gave a sharp nod and strode off toward the Dame, leaving Maia to trail after him. She cast a glance back at the merchant, whose gaze followed them briefly before he turned back to his cart.

“Why’d you cut me off?” Maia asked as she caught up to her father.

“Because we’ve got no business poking into other people’s scraps,” Matthias said, his voice low but firm. “And I don’t want anyone poking into ours.”