The quiet hum of the dead rig still lingered in Joel’s ears as he sat by the workbench, his fingers drumming against the weathered surface. The fire outside had long since burned down to embers, leaving behind a lingering tang of ash and scorched in the air. The weight of silence pressed on him, broken only by the occasional shift of the others moving about the depot.
Joel stared down at the makeshift map he’d sketched from memory, his grease-stained fingers tracing the outlines of the coast. Kitimat was the closest option. It had always been a hub—a lifeline for the rigs before the flooding, before everything went sideways. Now, it might be nothing more than a sunken shadow of what it had been, another casualty of rising waters.
“Yellowhead Highway,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. It had been a straightforward drive once—twelve hours of coasting down BC-16, skirting past the dense forests and the occasional glint of water through the trees. But now? He wasn’t so sure.
His eyes fell on the faint line representing the Yellowhead Highway, and for a moment, the depot around him faded.
He was a kid again, sitting in the passenger seat of his dad’s old truck, the smell of coffee and engine grease mixing with the scent of pine trees wafting in through the cracked window. His dad wasn’t much for talking. They’d just drive, moving from one job site to the next, the silence between them as comfortable as a well-worn jacket. The old cassette deck rattled as it played yet another CCR tape, the twang of “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” filling the cab.
Joel remembered staring out the window, watching the endless expanse of the Canadian landscape unfold around them. Mountains rose like sentinels in the distance, their peaks capped with snow even in the summer. Rivers carved silver paths through dense green forests, and the occasional deer would dart across the road ahead, its tail a flash of white before disappearing into the brush.
His dad’s hands rested steady on the wheel, calloused and strong, the knuckles occasionally tapping along to the beat of the music. He never said much, but there was a quiet contentment in his presence. Joel had never needed words back then; the peaceful hum of the engine and the beauty of the drive had been enough.
Now, standing in the depot, Joel felt the sharp pang of loss. He missed those moments. The calm, the simplicity of just being with his old man, with nothing more pressing than the next destination. There had been no monsters then, no system, no weight of survival crushing down on him. Just the open road, the music, and the quiet bond between father and son.
He let the memory linger a little longer before shaking it off. The highway wasn’t what it had been. The peace of those drives was gone, swallowed up by the chaos of the climate crisis. But he held onto the thought as tightly as the map in his hand. It was a reminder of why he kept pushing forward.
For those moments.
For the chance to feel something like them again.
“Anyways, back to work, like the old man would say.”
Joel knew that The Company had a small stronghold in Kitimat, at least the last time he’d heard. Their reach had always been far, their grip tighter than most realized. And then there were the Reds and Greens—rival factions who had taken to the chaos like sharks to blood. Joel grimaced. It wasn’t just about making it to the next job anymore; it was about surviving the tangled mess of allegiances and hostilities waiting for him there.
“Even if I make it there,” Joel thought aloud, “then what?” His words were a hollow echo in the depot. Supplies, transport, some kind of next step—that’s all he could think about. But the road wasn’t just a physical journey. It was a gauntlet. Flooded terrain, broken infrastructure, and creatures he didn’t want to think about.
He folded the map, tucking it into his pocket. If the city was still standing, it might offer a path forward. If not...well, he’d figure it out when he got there. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but it wasn’t new. Uncertainty had been his companion since the moment the system first sparked to life.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Joel looked over his shoulder at Craig and Darren, both absorbed in their tasks. They had questions too, he could see it in their eyes, but for now, they didn’t press. He appreciated the silence, the space to think. He’d need their help, their strength, but for now, he had to decide on his next move.
Kitimat was a risk. But it was also the only option that made sense. For now.
Joel stared down at the map again, muttering under his breath. “Raiders were bad enough before.” His voice was low, rough, as if saying it out loud could make it less real. “They’d hit supply convoys, harass anyone too weak to fight back. But even they knew not to mess with Company Security.” He scoffed, a bitter edge to the sound. “Those guys were basically bad enough to go toe-to-toe with a Hunter Alien without needing to smear mud all over themselves and scream for a chopper.”
He shook his head, leaning back against the workbench. His eyes wandered to the depot’s rusted walls, the faint scent of oil and solvent still clinging to the air. “But now…” He sighed. “Now I’m not so sure.”
The world had changed, tilted off its axis into some kind of twisted nightmare. Raiders were one thing, but the system had introduced new horrors. Freaky talking animals, void-creatures dripping with oil and malice, and who knew what else was out there? The thought alone made his chest tighten.
Joel rubbed his face, trying to chase the fatigue from his thoughts. “I’m just talking,” he muttered. “I know I’m going. It’s not a question of if. It’s the how and the where.”
He glanced at the others across the room. Craig was checking the edge of a tool he’d salvaged, and Darren was still pacing, restless as ever. They’d follow him. He knew that much. But leading them through this? Through raiders, factions, and whatever fresh hell the system had planned?
He folded the map again, stuffing it into his pocket. Joel sat back on the edge of the workbench, the dim light casting long shadows across the depot. The supply list in his hand blurred as his thoughts drifted. Then he remembered—the card. Alex’s card. He hadn’t even looked at it since pulling it from his fallen comrade.
Reaching into his pocket, Joel pulled out the card, its smooth edges cool against his fingertips. He stared at it for a moment before accessing it.
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Personal System Notification:
[Card Accessed: Arcane Shelter]
Alex’s Heart Card: Arcane Shelter
Rarity: Legendary
Level: One
Cooldown: 24 hours
Back Design: The card’s back is adorned with an intricate pattern of woven vines and celestial symbols, hinting at both natural and mystical forces at work. A glowing outline of a modest, well-tended camping tent is centred in the design, but the edges are marked with faint runes that suggest something much larger within.
Front Artwork: The front of the card showcases a small, humble camping tent set against a tranquil forest backdrop. The tent is simple, made from durable fabric, but there’s a faint aura of magic around it, giving it an otherworldly glow. In the distance, towering trees and a sparkling stream suggest a quiet, peaceful environment. But as the light from the tent’s opening flickers, the illusion of smallness fades, revealing an expansive, cozy interior beyond.
Abilities:
1. Expanded Space – When activated, the small exterior of the tent becomes a gateway to a spacious, well-equipped two-bedroom cabin. The interior includes a small camping kitchen, a comfortable living area, and two private bedrooms furnished with basic essentials.
2. Safe Haven – The shelter automatically reinforces itself against harsh weather, providing warmth, protection, and an enhanced sense of security. It can withstand storms, cold, and even the occasional intruder for a limited time.
3. Rejuvenating Rest – Those inside the shelter recover health and stamina at an accelerated rate, with a calming aura that restores mental focus and reduces fatigue. The more time spent inside, the more the shelter provides a restorative effect on the mind and body.
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Joel’s breath hitched as the details formed in his mind. He ran a thumb along the card's edge, the faint pulse of its power thrumming beneath his skin. Alex’s face flashed in his memory—not the terror of his final moments, but the quiet determination he’d shown in life. This card—it felt like him, through and through.
Joel swallowed hard, guilt and gratitude warring within him. Alex was gone, but in some way, this card kept him here. His legacy wasn’t just about what he’d done but about what they could do now with what he’d left behind.
He slipped into his Heart Deck, the faint glow fading as he did.
“Thanks, Alex,” Joel whispered, the weight of loss settling heavier on his shoulders. But there was comfort in the card—a promise that even in death, Alex was still watching over them.