Chapter 27

Tools were easily destroyed, deteriorated, and parted to dust. But they could return, built anew, whereas Walkers were hard to come by if they shared a similar fate. Regular weapons were ineffective at dealings with truly menacing Darks. Past humanity felt it the most. Coping with losing this old ideology was a tough reality that many nations endured in their own ways, either by running, hiding, or grabbing new possibilities.

Technology soon came back. Older human inventions lost their charm, but progress was about appealing to the uncommon, or forcefully going against the flow.

Alas, the numbers were right and Walkers were a completely different breed of weapons. Right now, outside of the question or ability of the past humanity, many old grudges resurfaced and minds worked for the sake of lost and new pride. The Federation was most advanced in those ideas, creating tools and weapons as supplementary authority and inevitable parts of their pride.

For the missions, humans needed tools. Reassurance. Many people believed in their fake security, even if it couldn't change the whole game.

Not until they would see working helicopters; large slabs of steel and plates capable of flight with rotating poles above and behind. It was ridiculous, but it worked. How could something this big fly? Well, some Darks did, so why not some metals?

Many dark years passed for conventional machines to count as saviors. That was changing slowly under some eyes and hands, and even some motorcycles and other supporting tools were slowly crawling back into people's minds. They were yet to be common, but smaller ones required less hands and care, so they were becoming regular. Things like radios and the general use of electricity for light were already standard in most camps.

The one Luke was riding was excessive and large, looking straight out of the old military books.

William knew one could get—or create—a small electric motorcycle if one worked really hard. If not, a bicycle was popular and easy to make, since they didn't require fuel besides healthy legs.

Assembly, maintenance, and giving tools were one way to raise people's morale, views, and advancement. A lot of it came from the old world, letting people grow attached to some ideals, and Walkers couldn't deny hope for them. They were people too, so they knew everyone should get what they deserved. Eventually, people will taste the power of technology and science on a global scale once more. Before that, it was proper to let it continue.

William had keen memories of all sides, but even primitive manners weren't wrong. They were honest and some people needed it like the technology.

In recent times, machinery was made with relative ease thanks to a more straightforward learning curve of Enginists, or Machinists, which were one of the most crucial professions in camps.

Knowing how to make, repair, and crate stuff was the epitome of technology and people creating it. Enginists fundamentally changed the lives of entire settlements, creating common machines, ensuring they would work or provide their worth. Machinists were a bit better, working with more complicated and worthy tools.

All organizations—Federation included—knew that the dawn of technology was rising back from its shadows that were hiding under decades of conflicts. Overseen and protected by Walkers, it was a gradual change for the better, which William gradually understood as he grew and learned things in the past decade without his parents. In some ways, it was great.

It was also suspicious. Wasn't his mother... like that too? Curious, helpful, and positive for the future? William got a headache every time he was thinking about her and these things.

I am going away, William thought as he rode this bike. Gone from it all. Gone from the Outside. Not from people. This camp and space where one has to live proportional to their usefulness isn't wrong. I learned valuable lessons. Now, I should look for more of them somewhere else, yet... here I am, seeing that they came for me instead. Good job, me. Really great.

William had different usefulness than being a farmer, helper in many shops or factories, or friend for Dann. In camps, everyone should put forth some work, for it was their way of living, including people like William, who wasn't a regular person, yet what else could he do? Those things in their bodies were their token of the future. A reason for hope, but it wasn't as if they were royalty.

They had to work if they wanted to live. Even children knew it. Working hard wasn't easy. Living wasn't cheap. That was common sense Outside.

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Outside or the Federation, what is bigger? William thought. What is worse, or greater than the sky? What to think of Luke and... me? Emblem and everything, what does my father have been doing in the past, or... what my mother left for? For... father? He fought against the Darks of that time, I am sure. He fought against that Incursion. In that hell. What could've had my mother done? Help? How...

Shaking his head, William waited until Luke stopped the motorcycle in a wide open space, close to the large stone walls and numerous smaller and bigger watchtowers made of wood because they often got destroyed. There was a closed gate, and... gunfire, people hurrying around the walls and street. Something was happening for sure. The military was moving, and even some Walkers went to work.

“Seems some Darks showed up as I wasted some time,” Luke said to William and got up from his bike. “Stay here. I will deal with this and go out.”

William wanted to question his words. It was obviously an alarm and some Darks were seen from the watchtowers and started attacking this camp. From the looks of it, Luke might be the reason for that, though his tone was firm. Too firm. William stopped his inner complaints and curiosity and remained sitting.

Luke walked to the guards, still wearing his jacket. It had a zip in the middle, that he secured closer to his neck. The surroundings were pretty clean and hardly hectic. Nothing more than some little herd that knocked on the gate. Luke trusted his instincts.

Then, he glanced for Walkers, but there were none around. They must be behind the walls, fighting close or in a distance. No one could see them; firing came from the watchtowers, where people wielded long-range guns, or sniper rifles, providing support for Walkers ahead. It was how things went in this part of the world, Luke knew.

All the while the gate remained shut, yet he wanted to leave no matter what.

Guards glanced at him.

“Hey, how about open the gate and let me through the gate? How about it, fellas? Why it's locked at such a terrible time? Seems bothersome.”

“Are you deaf?” one of the middle-aged guards said in a bothered tone. “We are working and protecting. You and your business will wait. Oh, I remember you from before. So you will wait.”

Luke chuckled, knowing that his little task of being calm and secretive was worse than a punch to his guts. “Listen, I was the one who came through that gate a while ago, sure. Riding a bike, remember?” He asked, glancing around a bit more, noticing more guards approaching some walls, curiously looking at him. All of them were regular people, chatting or waiting for something.

They knew Luke was from some different place. Probably some private settlement, or he was here due to some big organization because of his great bike. None knew he was a Walker, which was odd, yet realized by William. He hid his uniform before this ride, so he must've done the same before. By hiding, he was asking for it.

They saw his hefty motorcycle alone, which was complicated, great, and looking expensive. Some shops would pay a high price just to see it, let alone to buy its parts and see how it worked. It even had a proper gas for fuel. That was rare for a simple way to go and visit this place.

These people would be shocked if they knew he came here with a helicopter instead, or because of a single kid that waited on that bike.

Hearing Luke, the guard sneered and never heard such nonsense before. “We have our own rules, soldier. You are tough, I can see that. You must be a mercenary. We have to check whether you are passing through with something that should not be passed by, so do you mind some examination? Your toy included, of course. There are quite a few problems between some people Outside, and some camps have their views on many matters. There are traitors among men. Rebels too, and people are sensitive to that kind of thing here.”

“Oh, I do wonder what is it about, as I've never heard of such nonsense myself. Rebels? Do you mean simple disagreements and personal issues between people? Call it strife for all I care, but that is normal even without Darks in sight.” Luke said, scratching his chin, and appearing as unbothered as he could be. His tone was calm, which made the guard hesitant.

“Right away that. Thanks for your cooperation,” the guard said, speaking as if Luke was an eyesore, before turning to other guards. “Hey, you and you, take that bike for the inspection to the barracks” He shouted while pointing to some smirking guards.

“Inspection? Do you think this is necessary, or... do you think it is a good idea?”

“It is just an inspection. An inspection, do you understand English? Who do you think this gate is, and what is our job? Hear those gunshots and screeches? There is a fight outside. Walkers are fighting, got it? You came before and Darks suddenly came as well. Strange.” The guard found perfect excuses and rather than being confident, he sounded arrogant.

William couldn't refute it, so he wondered what Luke planned, or... why it was even happening.

They don't know he is a Walker. Isn't that weird? Did Luke come here without any marks? William thought, glancing at his arms covered by his clothes. Well, he will be fine, even if his uniform would do something better. No need to show Emblem or...

When William was contemplating, a few guards began approaching him.

”Now, go back to where you came from, redo your business here, while we take care of our business. That's what outsiders get when they come here and act silly like you. Just wait patiently.” The guard said to Luke, who had enough and stopped forward.

“I insist to open it up.” He said, a thin bit of azure mist sprinkled in his eyes.

But the guard didn't see it and laughed at him instead. He approached him and shoved Luke away with both palms. “Do you want to be detained? We have full authority to do so, in the name of Walkers and...” By a second shove to Luke's chest, something changed, blew, and flexed.

It was a thud. A breath. Then, a breeze.

A sudden force spread from Luke, coming from within, and before the guard knew his name, he flew away, hugging a stone wall with his face.

“Oh, shit...” Luke said, chuckling and turning to the other guards. “Have you seen someone slip like that? He is surprisingly talented.”