After a quick scan of our surroundings, we went on the move. Splashing through puddles and patches of both wet asphalt and squishy, patchy lawn, Sir Alain and Sir Oswald led us forward into the well-preserved ruins, their heavy-duty mid-tech NBC suits gleaming from the chain links woven into their leather and plasti-polymer fabrics.

It was the first time I’d seen a mid tech suit, with Techlock’s being my first glimpse of the old tech style, and I was impressed with how well my ancestors had held on and made due with the concept. Given what I’d experienced in the bunker, it was clear that such suits were absolutely necessary when visiting the world of old.

At present, the two of them looked almost like mutants themselves, the suits covering them from head to toe, their hoods pulled tightly and completely over their heads with their eyes hidden behind large and thick bug-like circles of tough glass. They carried their swords and shields at the ready, and I had no doubt that despite the obvious movement restrictions of their armor, they would still be quite capable in combat.

Sir Eadric, now clad in chainmail since the storm had finished, followed behind them, wielding his own sword and shield. Elli walked on my right, her crossbow at the ready, and I kept pace with her, gripping my saber in my right hand and one of the mutants' high-tech plastic shields in the left.

I cast a glimpse back over my shoulder, taking one final look of Sir Conrad’s towering Toxotai. If the mutants came, I had no doubt he’d shred them.

“Stay alert, everyone,” Sir Alain said, his voice steady and slightly muffled through his mask. “We don't know what we're walking into.”

As if to accentuate the point, a rock sailed through the air. Sir Alain brought up his shield and knocked it to the side.

“Guerilla attack. These guys aren’t giving up, are they,” Sir Oswald muttered.

“Hoooome,” something snarled. “Intruuuuuders.”

We stopped and scanned our surroundings, looking over the dripping ruins and distant vast parade grounds, but saw no movement. The mutes were obviously quite stealthy, or at least these ones were.

“Oh get off it,” Sir Alain called out irritably. “We won the fight, we get to check for treasure. It’s the way of the world.”

“Treaassuuure,” a voice moaned. “Thieeeves.”

After a few minutes of silence, we began to walk again, more cautiously and aware. The air was thick with the smell of wet vegetation, but it also had the hint of something else. Something that brought about the image of scales and the sharp tang of outhouse urine.

As we approached the first cluster of buildings, Sir Eadric motioned for us to stop. “That feels far enough, given what’s happened. Let’s scout the perimeter first,” he suggested. “We need to make sure there are no surprises waiting for us.”

Sir Alain nodded.

“Agreed. Eadric, stay here and keep watch. Oswald and I will clear the buildings. Alaric, Elli, you follow once we give the all-clear.”

“Ah, you mean follow the plan we made? What novel thinking,” Elli teased.

Alain stared, then chuckled.

“Yes. Sorry. Just, it’s never a bad thing to make sure everyone knows the plan at any given moment.”

We watched as Sir Alain and Sir Oswald stepped away, moving towards the nearest building, their movements swift and coordinated despite their restrictive suits. I glanced at Elli, who gave me a reassuring smile.

“Ready to go in?” she whispered

“I’d be more ready if we had some suits on,” I groused.

“Maybe when we get back, CD can help us make some. They aren’t exactly market-findable.”

“Good idea. I’ll add it to our ever-growing list. Assuming someone else doesn’t come and get in the way,” I replied. “Feels like we keep getting put off and delayed. After this quest, we get right into it and start building.”

“Sounds interesting,” Sir Eadric said. We both looked back, startled. Somehow we’d forgotten he was there. “You two are getting into a venture for producing mid-tech? Is that what this quest is all about?”

I looked him over with narrowed eyes.

“I shouldn’t be talking about it, really, but yeah that’s the gist of it.”

“I want in,” Eadric replied, almost so quickly as to cut off the end of my own sentence. “Whatever salvage I get, I can feed it into your operation in exchange for some good equipment of my own and a cut of the profits.”

Elli smiled.

“The thing is, Sir Eadric, the deal we’ve cut with Scavenger Master Elrik Boyerman makes it seem unlikely we’ll make much of a profit.”

Eadric scowled.

“Guildmasters and their greed. Let’s talk again when the mission is done. I’m sure not everything will have to be on the up and up and we all can get our fair share.”

We both nodded, and waited. The ruins were eerily quiet, the only sound the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird. As we waited, my thoughts drifted to the mutants. Those creatures had been fierce and relentless, their scaled skin and reptilian features hauntingly reminiscent of the demons of the apocalypse.

Or better said, CD’s creators.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Was it truly just another mutational fluke, some desperate military experiment, or were they maybe the descendants of the invaders? I wanted to ask CD directly, through TUNI, but with Eadric standing so near it felt impossible.

My thoughts were interrupted by the exit of Sir Alain from the building. “Clear,” he called, signaling us forward. “Let's get to work.”

Elli and I moved quickly, joining Sir Alain and Sir Oswald inside the building. The interior was dark and damp, the walls covered in moss and the floor littered with debris. It was shocking how empty it was, like the mech bays. It was like the soldiers here and grabbed everything they could think of to beat a hasty retreat in the midst of whatever cataclysm had occurred here during the war.

We split up, each of us searching for anything valuable.

“Elli, over here,” I called, spotting a cylindrical piece of metallic old tech partially buried under a pile of rubble. She hurried over as I pulled it out, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Core, Power. Mk III,” she read, wiping dirt from its label. “Definitely worth taking.”

We continued our search, finding a few more pieces of tech, though nothing as significant as the power core. One was an old, bulky storage box, rectangular in shape, and with two doors that opened to a series of shelves and racks. Elli and I eyed it suspiciously.

“What do you think this is?” Elli asked.

We checked the exterior, finding a label on the side.

FrostGuard 5000 – Keeping your Future Fresh!

We shared a confused look.

“It is a food refrigeration unit, you cavemen,” CD said. “How did you even manage to live so long without refrigerating food? Oh, wait, you bury it into the ground and then dig it out again.”

“Like an ice box?” I asked. There were a few mechanical mid tech ones among the wealthiest of people, but they were virtually unobtainable in even the darkest of black markets.

“Yes. It creates ice and cold air to keep food from going bad for weeks, months, or even years. I would suggest tearing it open and salvaging its most important parts. The body is much more easily fabricable.

“Good idea, CD,” I responded quietly. “Alright, Elli, let's get to work.”

Sir Alain and Sir Oswald gave us a curious glance as we set out our tools and began peeling open the refrigeration unit. It opened easily, and it wasn’t long before we were prying the device open, revealing its internal components. Under CD's guidance, we began dismantling the cooling system, carefully extracting the necessary parts.

It was slow at first, CD having to painstakingly describe each of the nigh-irreplaceable items thoroughly enough for us to identify and remove them. But things sped on as we found our rhythm.

Elli used a wrench to disconnect the power supply while I worked on loosening the bolts that held the ‘cooling coils’ in place. Clanking the pieces out, I next heaved out the ‘compressor’, grunting under its considerable weight. Elli reached out and steadied me as I yanked it hard against a bit of rusted resistance, and once it torqued free, we set it down gently on the ground.

“That’s it. We can leave the rest,” I said, wiping my hands on my pants.

Sir Alain regarded us strangely.

“And these items are of value?”

“Only if you like your food cold!” Elli replied, smiling.

“Indeed,” CD added. “This unit will allow us to preserve a great many things once assembled. It’ll be a fine upgrade to our workshop. Just don’t break it on the way back to the mech.”

We packed the salvaged components into a single ruck, transferring its former parts into another to make room, and secured them tightly. The rest we left cracked open and nude in the middle of the room.

“What's next on the agenda?” Elli asked, putting away her tools and picking up her crossbow.

“We’ll check the next building over, but if its as bare as this one, it might be better that we skip the rest and head for the central complex,” Sir Alain replied. “There may be more operational terminals there, stuff you two can use to find us the good pickings.”

I nodded, shifting the weight of the ruck on my shoulder. Casting one last glance back, I noticed the barest of glows seeping through a mass of rotted leaves and mold.

“Hold on a sec. Maybe we won’t need to go so far as all that.”

I approached the glow cautiously, the knights and Elli walking behind me, trying to see what my eyes beheld. After a bit, they gasped.

“Good eyes,” Sir Oswald murmured.

“Here, let’s get all this out of the way for you. We’ve got the suits, Alaric. You need to let us do the digging.”

The two of them scooped and shoved debris, revealing an old terminal, its screen gleaming darkly through gray dust and black mold. Sir Alain grabbed it, lifting it up from the floor. Wires trailed from it to the wall, dashing my hopes that it was one of the mobile models like Techlock had, but I was excited nonetheless.

Especially after I took it from his hands, wiping the grit from its screen, and typed my first command. The terminal wasn’t just functional—it had been left logged in, no password necessary.

Elli came behind me, peering over my shoulder. We both stared at the military-green text against a black background flickering over the screen, the keyboard interface displaying a long list of options. Most of the entries were garbled, marked by missing letters and corrupted characters. But as I navigated through the menu, a few legible options stood out amidst the digital decay, promising hidden information.

I clicked the corresponding number function to one of these, labeled: They surrendered!, but got a new screen instead informing me, “Error 404 – Message not found!”

“Damn,” I growled. “Not such a find after all.”

“Hold on, Al,” Elli said, slipping the terminal out of my hands and into hers. She tapped at the keyboard, staring intensely at the screen. Look! It has an emergency option to salvage corrupted sectors!” Elli exclaimed, before exiting whatever help screen she’d managed to find and inputting the command.

The device whirred up into the sound of a heavy spin, and we waited as the terminal ran the operation, the screen flickering as it processed the data. After a few moments, a new screen appeared.

Command: Salvage Operation Complete

Memoline: They surrendered!

Recovered Data: Subject Folder, Operation - Capture of Torian Regiment

All 4 of us exchanged a glance, then read the message together:

We did it! I don’t know how, but we did it. It’s been 3 years since the battle for Chicago began. I don’t know how many of us are dead; how many of them died. I just know I never thought I’d be getting out of here alive.

The Torians, I think they might be more like us humans than we thought. Here we were, every day fighting. The 45th Mech and Armor Regiment had them pinned into the city, and we were in their way if they wanted to escape. One day a group of them came and asked to begin talks.

Talks with Torians! Didn’t ever think I’d see the day.

But here it is. Word is that they are suffering from some sort of plague. I can tell you that seeing them get marched into our cells, they didn’t look too good. I mean, even worse than normal. So thin you could see their skeletons!

The war’s still going large, but damn if I don’t think we can win now. The Torians can be beaten.

“Impossible,” CD growled.

Alain stared hard.

“No word of this to anyone. The church would consider it heresy. And no doubt we’d be burned of its taint.”

I gulped. I’d seen the pyres before.

“We didn’t see a thing,” Elli said.

“Blind as always, Sir Alain,” Sir Oswald answered cheerfully.

We exited the building, the morning sun now higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape. Sir Eadric greeted us with a nod, his watchful eyes scanning the surroundings.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Found some good salvage but it was mostly empty,” I replied.

Alain just nodded at my words.

“Let’s go. Daylight is burning, and the sooner our rucks are full, the sooner we can get back to Alnda.”