With the alert calm of someone walking toward their rope at the gallows, Ark and Mino stepped further into the darkness of the scrapyard.

Beyond the fence, a clearly marked road led further into the dim surroundings, while piles of smaller junk items lay in organized heaps. At either side of the road, larger scrap like the steel chassis of a glider were stacked high, marking Hera's territory.

In shadows of these landmarks, Mino and Ark both felt their spirits falter somewhat. Although they knew the area like the back of their hand, they felt like outsiders entering into a sacred domain.

“Why did we ever leave?” Mino said, looking worried from side to side of the road, as if Hera would burst out from in between the towers and swallow them whole at any minute.

“Because there’s no future for us in this place,” Ark reminded his friend, trying to calm his nerves, even as he himself could not help but nervously flinch at every little rustle from the scrap piles.

Occasionally Ark saw the gleam of a pair of eyes watching them as they came closer, though faces were obscured by the darkness. No one greeted them, or as much as waved, even if they should recognize them. Everyone knew where they were going.

“Even so, maybe we shouldn’t have cut ties like that… We haven’t even visited in, what: a year?”

“Something like that. You could have gone on a visit on your own, if you wanted,” Ark murmured, finding dread climbing up his spine. If the Ashlands summoned him back in this very moment, he would prefer that life-threatening danger to this.

“Are you crazy?” Mino hissed, “No one just visits this place.”

“Which is why we’re here now,” Ark murmured, trying to calm his own nerves. “We made a decision to send Hera another mouth to feed. Now we take responsibility—easy as that.” His chattering teeth betrayed his confidence.

Mino grumbled something, but Ark was more concerned with the growing sets of eyes that were surrounding them. Those they had already passed were following them now—Ark was sure of it, even if he could only hear a slight rustle as they moved—and new eyes appeared at an alarming rate.

“Mino… how many kids were there, last we came here?” Ark mumbled, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

“Hmm… about two dozen, I think. Why?”

Swallowing, Ark wetted his lips before answering. “Because, I think we’ve got that amount following us now.”

“Already?” Mino looked surreptitiously around—which, with his size was more like openly advertising his movements. “Oh… I think you’re right.” His better darkvision confirmed Ark’s suspicion, which only made him worry more. Why were there so many?

“Something’s going on, Mino. If there are that many, just on the road to the entrance, then either Hera is thinking that trouble is coming her way, or…”

“Or what?” Mino said, still trying to count the kids that were keeping hidden among the scrap, not looking forward. Ark meanwhile, had come to an abrupt halt, as they had crested a small incline that led to an overlook of the central area of the scrapyard.

Here lay some of the last vestiges of Vanguard’s grand past. Corpses of massive ships that had once explored the vast void lay stripped of all but their steel carcass—electronic innards splayed out upon the ground for small hands to sift through and find treasure.

Of more recent scrap, Ark recognized rift-stabilizers that might be a decade old—wide, circular contraptions that would hold a rift open, to avoid shearing anyone entering—as well as more ordinary items like cracked steel doors, crumbled aluminum sheets or electronic signs that might have come from any shop across all three floors of Vanguard.

All of it came here, to the scrapyard, where it was sifted through by a myriad of children in the employ of Hera, who ran the only orphanage that had no ties to Central Command. In return for their work, the children got food, clothing, and shelter, all while avoiding the conscription that took place in government shelters.

When Ark and Mino had stayed here, after flushing out of the Maze, the scrapyard had strained to accommodate two dozen children, which was partially why they had ended up leaving: to make room for others.

Now, though, there were not just two dozen. Those were just the ones following them. Down below, Ark could see twice that rummaging around the endless scrapheaps. Beyond, there would probably be more, as the scrapyard covered a wide area.

“What the—“ Mino had also stopped, staring wide eyed down into the depths of change in this place.

“This can’t be right,” Ark whispered, trying to make sense of it all. There was no way the scrapyard could sustain all of these children, and indeed many of them wore little but tattered scraps of clothing or mere loincloths, as they sorted through scrap with their bare hands. While the lingering dusk made it difficult to see any facial expressions, he could see sunken eyes, as well as clearly delineated ribcages among many of the working children.

“Oh, but it can,” said a soft voice in his ear, and Ark instinctively stiffened. Something cold and metallic grasped him by the nape of his neck, holding him tight enough that it might snap if he tried to twist around. Desperately looking out the corner of his eye, Ark saw something similar had grabbed Mino’s neck; a iron claw with wired digits, connected to a elongated tube that he knew could extend and contract exactly as the controller wished.

“Indeed,” the voice continued, still as softly and quietly as Ark had learned to be most weary of, “It is even worse, for I have been unable to lay eyes upon my two favorite troublemakers for an entire year. Can you imagine anyone being that cold-hearted to old Hera?”

“I’m sorry, Hera, I can expl—“ Ark’s voice was cut off by a slight increase in the hold on his neck.

“Shut up, Ark,” she purred into his ear, “I don’t want excuses from you—I don’t feel like listening to sweet lies. Instead, I would much rather hear a reasoned analysis on my situation from you, Mino, dear. Would you do me the honor?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Mino’s eyes flickered back and forth, as he had to open and close his mouth two times before he got a response out, “I-It’s not good.”

Behind them, Hera chuckled gently, a sound neither were fooled by. “Ever the orator. However, you’ve hit nail on the metaphorical head with your observation.” A third claw appeared in the corner of Ark’s field of vision, patting Mino gently on the head. “Well done.”

Ark opened his mouth to speak, but the claw tightened further, squeezing the aortas on his neck enough to threaten him with unconsciousness should he utter so much as a sound. He, wisely, shut his mouth again.

“Now, Mino, what do you think it means that my situation has come to this ‘not good’ state, as you have so admirably concluded?”

“I—uh… It…” Mino desperately tried to get his mouth to work, but it was proving difficult.

“Now, now,” Hera said, her voice soft as silk, “Don’t be shy—there are no wrong answers here. I know you’ve got everyone fooled with that big and burly head of yours, and the way you normally let Ark do all the talking; but you and I both know who the deeper thinker of the two of you are, don’t we, Mino?”

Mino took a breath, then a second. Finally, he was able to say, “I-If there are that many orphans here, it means there are more orphans everywhere.”

“Ahh… see? That’s why I like you, Mino. You look at the big picture, while Dumpty here is always looking for an edge.” A fourth arm rustled Ark’s ashen hair, before Hera continued. “Now, imagine as I’m dealing with all of this nonsense; suddenly my two best gals send me another piece of trouble. What’s a girl supposed to do?”

“We—“ Mino was about to answer, but this time Hera had no time for him. The claw at his neck also tightened, as she called out, “Bess, dear? Could you come over here?”

A rustle from the side revealed the small figure Ark and Mino had just gotten to know this morning. Careful as a cat, Bess stepped closer, her hands a twitchy mess. She walked up in front of them, looking from one to the other, and then at the very scary woman that had both of their heads in a vice.

“Yes, Ma’am” She squeaked, eyes quickly lowering to the ground.

“Don’t call me ‘Ma’am’, dear. And look at me when I talk to you.” Hera said, her voice so gentle it could shear metal into pieces, “Now, would you let the two gentlemen here know what I told you, when you arrived at my doorstep?”

“Y-Yes… boss.” Bess raised her eyes with trepidation, staring at a point behind Ark’s shoulders, “Yous said you’d work me to the bone, and tha’ I’d starve ‘ere.”

“Indeed… And what did you say to me then?”

“Tha’ I’d starve out there anyway, s-so I might as well starve ‘ere.”

“You hear that, boys?” Hera said, a string of steel entering her voice for the first time, “How could my heart not bleed at such words.”

Neither dared to speak. Ark felt that was the right choice when Hera continued after a moment, “I don’t expect much from those who leave my care; most go out to simply scrape by on the docks, or join the gangs for short and colorful life, all I ask is that you don’t bring back trouble.” Her voice turned into a gravelly hiss that made Ark’s stomach twist around itself, until it was ready to burst.

“Now, my two sweets, tell me, what have you brought back to me?”

“Trouble,” they both chorused, trained as they were.

“Indeed. I’m very much looking forward to your explanations. The way Ark lies, perhaps you’ll even get to leave my little queendom unscathed. Or, perhaps I’ll just find a nice pile of metal scrap to bury you under. I think copper would would be appropriate. You have my ire, gentlemen—see that it does not grow to anger.”

Both nodded, rather than speak. Speaking now was death.

“Good. Come to Respite—I’ll see and hear you there. You have 15 minutes.”

Ark felt the grip on his neck lessen, then the metallic claw retracted, and he knew she was gone. For good measure, he waited another breath before looking over his left shoulder, but found nothing but the eyes of hungry kids staring back at him. A slight movement from a nearby pile of rusty iron was all the trace she left.

He sighed, the gaze of the children too heavy for him to bear, and turned back, only to see Bess’ face scrounged up in an expression of restrained fear and sadness. Then she closed her eyes and wailed as she ran forward and embraced Mino’s leg.

“She’s soooo scary!” Bess cried, holding onto Mino’s dirty pants as if her life depended on it.

Mino, meanwhile, gently patted her on the back, looking to Ark for a solution, but soon there was nothing Ark could do, but step away, as kids swarmed the huge boy. They approached carefully at first, testing the waters with a few prodding fingers in Mino’s thighs or side.

When the gentle giant did not react, the first kid leaped onto his back, crawling all the way up to his shoulders and proclaimed, “Mino’s back!” Then the next followed, hooting with joy, as those who only knew the name by word of mouth held back—but only for a moment or two.

Ark could not help smiling, as his friend was inundated by questions and demands from the kids, asking him ‘where he’d been’, ‘how long he was staying’ and ‘what he’d seen’. One kid, though, while desperately clinging to Mino’s neck, asked a question that cut into Ark’s heart like a sharp knife. “Do you have any food, Mino?”

Everyone froze as the question that had probably been on everyone’s mind came out. Mino stopped trying to comfort Bess, while not accidentally stepping on anyone whenever he shifted his weight. His eyes found Ark, but after a moment of silence, Mino said quietly, “We don’t have food with us.”

The deafening silence that followed was heart wrenching. Ark wanted nothing more than to run to the nearest store and buy out their supply, but he held his tongue. This was Mino’s moment.

“Just… once we’ve talked with Hera, we’ll have it all sorted, hear?” He said, his voice edged with a need that Ark recognized in friend. The good soul, the best this realm could offer, who wanted nothing but to help others. If only everyone else were like Mino…

“You mean, we’ll get more food?” Another asked, curious, but also clearly skeptical.

“Food and clothes,” Mino said, more determination entering his face, “We’ll get it all.”

“How?” Said another. There was another moment of quiet, but this time Ark saw that Mino was doing it on purpose. He wanted everyone to quiet down before he gave them the news they wanted to hear.

“Ark and I are going to become riftwalkers,” he said, steady as a rock, “We’ll earn enough for all of you, I promise.”

They all cheered, even Bess, who still held on to Mino for dear life, face streaked by tears. Ark felt his chest swell with pride at the sight.

“Is that true, Ark?” A quiet voice beside him alerted Ark to the kid they’d met at the gate. Tim stood a short distance away, a hand to the brim of his cap, as he peered out from under it at Ark with suspicion and hope.

“If Mino says so, that’s the truth,” Ark said confidently.

Tim nodded. He was older than most of the kids surrounding Mino, even if he was barely ten years old. Something had made him grow up earlier than the rest—something Ark recognized. “I hope you’re right.” That was all he said, before he slunk back into the shadows of junk and metal scrap.

Ark looked at the spot he had disappeared from sight, clenching his jaw. He remembered when Tim had arrived at Respite, just before he and Mino left to become independent. A small kid with a hollow expression, and with his skin more bruised than not. Ark did not know the exact story, but he could guess, and he saw similar stories in the faces of the other children.

What had been done to them was not right. All of it fed that little flame inside Ark’s chest that had always caused him trouble. He looked at Mino, who was fist bumping the youngest of the kids around him, while laughing as another pulled at his hair. It was an image that soothed Ark’s soul a little, even as he could not help but contrast himself to the gentle giant.

What Mino wanted to do, was to make it all better. What Ark feared he would do, was to burn it all down.