Cira’s boots crunched over the brittle bones of what remained of the past—rusted metal, shattered glass, and the skeletal remains of machinery that had once hummed with life. The outpost stood as a crumbling testament to the past, a ghost of the Ascended’s former glory now lost to the Wasteland’s cruel embrace ... .Or that's what she hoped. This outpost was the only one Cira ever saw in that condition.

The wind howled through the gaps in the cracked walls, carrying with it the scent of decay and dust, the bitter remnants of a world that had long since forgotten hope.

The air was thick with the stench of rot, and Cira instinctively pulled her scarf tighter around her nose and mouth, trying to block out the foul odor. Her heart pounded in her chest, not just from exertion, but from the nagging sense of unease that gnawed at the back of her mind. Something was wrong here—terribly wrong.

The outpost had once been a stronghold, its walls reinforced with the strongest metals known to man, its sentries unyielding, its defenses impenetrable. But now, it was little more than a ruin, its walls crumbling like sandcastles, its halls silent as the grave. The once-mighty defenses had been reduced to twisted heaps of metal and shattered glass, and the only sounds that echoed through the corridors were the mournful wails of the wind and the occasional creak of settling debris. 

And then there were the bodies.

Cira hesitated as she stepped into a large chamber, her foot skidding slightly on something slick. She looked down and her breath caught in her throat. The corpses of Ascended warriors lay scattered across the floor, their once-proud forms now broken and lifeless. Their advanced, gleaming armor was splattered with dried blood, and some of it had been torn open, as though something had ripped through the hardened plates like they were paper.

These corpses were not old—no more than two days, at most. The sight sent a shiver down Cira’s spine. For all the stories she had heard about the invincibility of the Ascended, to see them like this, reduced to nothing but broken shells, was unsettling in a way she could not put into words. Whatever had done this, it wasn’t human. It couldn’t be.

She forced herself to step closer to one of the bodies, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out. The warrior’s face was obscured by a cracked visor, but Cira could still see the dull gleam of metal beneath it, a reminder of the person this Ascended had once been. She reached for the Energy Blade still clasped in the warrior’s hand, prying it free from fingers that had gone stiff with death. The hilt felt cold in her grasp, and when she flicked the activation switch, the blade sputtered to life, emitting a weak, flickering glow. It was damaged, but it might still be useful.

As she was about to move on, something else caught her eye—a small device strapped to the warrior’s wrist. A Memory Pad, its screen still blinking faintly with unread messages. Cira knelt beside the body, her fingers fumbling as she detached the device and activated it. The screen flared to life, displaying a series of messages, each marked with an urgent red symbol.

She opened the most recent one.

The voice that came through was frantic, laced with desperation and terror. “This is Lieutenant Voren of Outpost Theta. We are under attack! They... they came out of nowhere! We can’t—!” The message was abruptly cut off by the sound of gunfire, followed by screams, and then something else—something wet, and the sickening crunch of bones breaking. The recording ended with a distorted, inhuman growl, a sound that made Cira’s blood run cold.

Yet, despite the feelings gnawing at her insides, Cira was determined. She wasn’t going to turn back now. She had come too far. Steeling herself, she pocketed the Memory Pad and the malfunctioning Energy Blade, then moved deeper into the building. The corridors seemed to close in around her as she went, the shadows growing darker and the air growing colder. But Cira pressed on, her eyes scanning every corner, every doorway, every flicker of movement.

Finally, she came to a heavy door, slightly opened. A faint blue light seeped through the crack, casting long shadows on the floor. Cira hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. The memory of the recording played back in her mind—gunfire, screams, that sickening, inhuman growl. But she couldn’t turn back now. She had to know.

With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and as she stepped in, her senses immediately got assaulted by the overwhelming scent of blood and burnt metal. The chamber was larger than she had expected, its high ceiling casting long shadows that danced across the walls in the dim blue light. The source of the light was a large, cylindrical device in the center of the room, pulsing with a faint, eerie glow. Cira’s eyes were drawn to it immediately, but the scene around it was far more…. interesting to her brain.

Corpses littered the floor, their bodies sprawled in unnatural positions, their blood painting the walls and floors in gruesome patterns. Some of the Ascended warriors bore shot wounds, their armor pierced by high-caliber rounds that had shredded through both metal and flesh. Others had deep gashes across their chests and limbs, as if they had been torn apart by something with immense strength. One unfortunate soul had been nearly severed in two, his torso hanging by threads of muscle and sinew. The sight made Cira’s stomach churn, but she forced herself to keep moving.

The room was a battlefield frozen in time, each body telling a story of the final moments of desperation and fear. The walls, once pristine and metallic, were now marred with deep scratches and scorch marks. The air was thick with the stench of death, a heavy, suffocating odor that clung to everything. Cira’s breath came in short, shallow gasps as she picked her way through the carnage, her eyes landing again on the strange device at the center of it all.

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The device was unlike anything Cira had ever seen before. It was roughly the size of a small crate, its surface smooth and unblemished save for the glowing blue lines that ran across it in intricate, swirling patterns. The lines seemed to pulse in time with some unseen rhythm, almost as if the device were alive. Despite the chaos around it, the device remained untouched, as though whatever had caused the carnage had intentionally avoided damaging it.

Curiosity warred with caution. Every instinct told her to leave it alone, to walk away and not get involved in whatever nightmare had unfolded here. But Cira wasn’t one to ignore her instincts—or her curiosity.

She reached out, her fingers grazing the cool surface of the crate-like object. It was warm to the touch, almost as if it were responding to her presence. The blue lines brightened, pulsing faster, and for a moment, she hesitated. But the pull was too strong. She had to know. Her hand closed around the device, and in that instant, a shrill alarm blared to life.

The sudden noise shattered the oppressive silence, and Cira’s heart leapt into her throat. Red lights flashed along the walls, bathing the room in a crimson glow.

«Damn it!» she cursed under her breath, snatching the device and bolting for the door.

The walls vibrated with the sound of the alarm, and Cira ran, her boots pounding against the metal floor as she made her way through the winding corridors. The high-pitched wail of the alarm followed her, growing louder, more urgent. She barely made it through the threshold when the door slammed shut behind her, sealing her exit.

Cira stumbled, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. The device felt heavier now in her arms, its glow pulsing frenetically, as though responding to her panic. She forced herself to keep moving, the weight of the alarm and the bodies behind her lingering in her mind.

Suddenly, the world fell silent.

Cira froze. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, and her ears rang from the sudden absence of noise. The flashing lights had stopped, the corridors now bathed in eerie stillness. She swallowed hard, the silence oppressive, thick like a tangible force pressing down on her.

A low, rumbling growl reverberated through the corridor. The sound was deep, guttural, and unmistakably predatory.

Cira’s blood ran cold as her gaze snapped upwards. There, clinging to the ceiling like some grotesque spider, was the creature responsible for the massacre. Its skin was mottled and scarred, thick patches of fur clinging to a body too large and muscular to be natural. Its eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, two pinpricks of malevolent amber fixed squarely on her.

A Revenant.

Cira’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse hammering in her ears. She knew the beast. Knew it all too well. Revenants were not to be trifled with. Mutated creatures, far stronger and more ferocious than any normal predator, with speed and cunning that made them deadly even for seasoned hunters. And Cira was far from equipped to handle one.

The Revenant snarled, its jaws parting to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. Blood still dripped from its maw, the sickly-sweet stench of death clinging to it.

She took a step back, her mind racing. Fighting it head-on was suicide. Without proper equipment—energy weapons, reinforced armor—she stood no chance.

Cira’s instincts kicked in before her mind had fully processed the danger. The Revenant's growl deepened, vibrating in the narrow corridor. Her body tensed, muscles coiling like springs, and then she bolted.

The Revenant moved almost simultaneously. She heard the scrape of its claws on the ceiling as it launched itself after her, but Cira didn’t look back. 

Her breath came in ragged gasps, heart thundering in her chest as she sprinted through the corridor. The walls blurred at the edges of her vision, and the foul stench of decay hung thick in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. The corpses littering the floor threatened to trip her with every step, their lifeless bodies a grim reminder of what awaited her if she slowed down.

She leapt over a twisted pile of armor and broken limbs, barely clearing the obstacle as the Revenant’s snarl grew closer. The sound of its claws scraping against metal was deafening, a sharp reminder of just how fast it was.

Just keep moving. Just get out.

She glanced over her shoulder, only to see the Revenant's hulking form gaining on her, its yellow eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. The creature’s breath came in short, rasping huffs, and its massive jaws were dripping with blood. For a split second, their eyes met, and a shiver of pure terror shot down Cira’s spine.

Her foot snagged on something—a loose cable, perhaps—and she stumbled. Her heart lurched as her balance wavered, and for a split second, she thought she was done for. But somehow, she recovered, propelling herself forward with renewed desperation. The Revenant snarled behind her.

Ahead, she could finally see the end of the corridor, sunlight streaming through a jagged crack in the structure's outer wall.

Sunlight.

Cira’s mind raced. Revenants avoided direct sunlight. It was one of the few things that could easily harm them, burn their mutated skin. She had to get out into the open.

With one last burst of energy, Cira sprinted toward the light, her entire body screaming in protest. The Revenant roared, its claws scraping the ground with a final, desperate lunge.

But just as Cira reached the breach, sunlight poured in from above, bathing her in its warmth. She threw herself through the opening, landing hard on the rocky ground outside.

Behind her, the Revenant screeched, a horrific, guttural sound of pain. The beast skidded to a halt just inside the threshold of the outpost, its massive body recoiling from the sunlight as if struck by an invisible force. Its skin began to sizzle and blacken where the light touched it, and with a furious growl, it retreated into the shadows, out of reach of the burning sunlight.

Cira collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. She looked back at the darkened doorway, the Revenant still lurking just inside, its eyes glowing with barely contained rage. The way its eyes narrowed slightly, the low, rumbling growl that echoed from its throat—it was almost as if the beast was telling her something. «I will remember your face, girl.»

The moment stretched, the tension between them palpable even from a distance. Then, with a ragged breath, Cira swallowed hard, the dry air burning her throat as she pushed herself to her feet and began to walk, the cracked, barren ground crunching beneath her boots. Her body ached, her lungs burned, but she forced herself to keep moving.

In her hands, the device pulsed faintly, the soft blue glow illuminating the intricate patterns etched across its surface. It felt almost alive, as if the lines of light were responding to her touch, reacting to her presence. She stared at it, curiosity gnawing at the edges of her mind. 

Reaching into her pocket, Cira pulled out her Memory Pad and activated its scanner, aiming it at the device. The small screen flickered as it processed the data, a series of unfamiliar symbols and numbers flashing across the display. Cira’s heart quickened as the Memory Pad beeped softly, identifying the object.

Anti-Radiator.

The words stood out starkly against the screen, and Cira’s eyes widened. She had heard of these things before—whispers and rumors, mostly. It was said that the Anti-Radiator could stabilize volatile environments, neutralizing harmful radiation and creating pockets of safe zones in even the most irradiated areas of the Wasteland. Every Wastelander would kill for something like this.

Suddenly, the weight of what she was holding became all too real. This wasn’t just some lost piece of technology. This was valuable, maybe even invaluable. And now it was in her hands.

Her fingers tightened around the device as she glanced back over her shoulder once more. The outpost lay in ruins behind her, the Revenant waiting in the shadows, but Cira knew the real danger wasn’t over. If word got out that she had an Anti-Radiator, there would be more than just mutated creatures hunting her down.

With a deep breath, she adjusted her grip on the Memory Pad and the device, then set her gaze ahead and Made her way Home.