The heat of the sun pressed against Hunter's eyelids, bright even behind closed eyes. His leathered reflection looked back at him through the ripples rushing over stone. Dipping his hands in the water, he took a moment to feel it flow between his fingers, then cupped them into a vessel. The water cooled his body as it sloshed in his growling stomach. He filled his hands again, splashing river water on his tanned face and running through his cropped, sun-bleached hair. He grabbed the handle of his axe and plunged the filed river stone head into the stream, inspecting its blade for nicks and chips. When he was satisfied, he slung the tool over his broad shoulder and started the walk back towards the tree line.

He heard the crack of the tree before the scream.

***

Hunter’s eyes snapped open to the sound of beeping. He groaned, pressing his fingertips against the bridge of his nose, a futile attempt to ward off the lingering echoes of the nightmare.

Always the same damn dream.

He opened his eyes, the dim light of Thad's lab a welcome relief from the vivid horrors he'd just escaped. Golden fiber optic cables, like shimmering threads of light, snaked from Thad's console to the interface port on Hunter's left forearm. He watched the familiar dance of green pulses travel up his arm and back down again, a constant reminder of his reliance on technology. He flexed his metal bicep, a phantom twinge of pain echoing in his mind – a souvenir from that long-ago day in the woods. He reached for the half-filled tumbler of bourbon on the cluttered table and downed it in a single gulp, the burning liquid a temporary anesthetic.

Thad peaked over his computer monitor, “The dream again?”

"How'd you guess?" he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep.

Thad, his face illuminated by the glow of a dozen monitors, peered over his glasses, a faint sorrowful smile playing on his lips. "You were screaming his name. Again."

Hunter's gaze drifted to the stained, mold-specked walls and ceiling of the cramped lab. His stomach clenched, a familiar knot of unease tightening in his gut. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No big deal," Thad replied, his tone easy. "If I went through what you did, I'd have nightmares too."

Hunter nodded, his gaze fixed on the cracked concrete floor. The silence stretched for a moment, punctuated only by the hum of the computers.

"How much longer?" Hunter finally asked.

"Almost there," Thad replied.

Three sharp beeps pierced the quiet.

"All done," Thad announced, typing a final command. He rose from his chair, the joints in his back popping softly, and walked toward Hunter, carefully disconnecting the cables from his carbon-fiber and titanium arm. "The update took a little longer than expected, but this baby's good to go. No more lag." He gave Hunter's shoulder a light pat.

"Thanks, Thad," Hunter said, finally meeting his friend's gaze. The red veins in Thad's eyes, a testament to his long hours at the console, reminded Hunter of the sacrifices his friend had made for him. "I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it," Thad chuckled. "Just buy me a drink at The Dog House sometime."

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The ritual was familiar, a comfortable dance between them. They both knew who owed who. If anything, a lifetime of purchased drinks wouldn’t wipe away the amount Thad owed Hunter. Even still, it was the promise of an unspoken bond between them, forged in the crucible of their shared past. It was one of the few good things in this godforsaken city.

"Deal," Hunter replied, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. He stood, smoothing the sleeve of his royal blue shirt over his prosthetic arm, then shrugged into his faded and cracked leather jacket. He extended his right hand, "Be careful out there, Thad."

Thad gripped his hand, "You too, Hunter. Don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done anything stupid?" Hunter quipped.

Thad's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Really?"

A genuine smile flickered across Hunter's face for a fleeting moment. He turned and headed toward the rusty door, pausing to offer Thad a two-fingered salute. Thad returned the gesture with a smile and a nod before returning to his glowing screens.

Hunter tugged the black cloth mask up over his stubbled jaw, the rough fabric a familiar shield in this city of shadows. He flipped the fur-lined collar of his jacket against the chill night air, then pushed open the rusty door, his senses immediately assaulted by the city's relentless clamor. The metal door groaned shut behind him, the sound swallowed by the roar of the metropolis.

Back to the grind.

He resisted the urge to retreat back into the quiet sanctuary of Thad's lab.

Too much to do.

He strode into the throng, a practiced ease in his movements as he navigated the labyrinth of food carts, their aromas a tempting assault on his empty stomach. He willed himself to ignore the gnawing hunger. Street food was a gamble he couldn't afford tonight. He had errands to run, debts to settle, before he could finally leave this festering wound on the world.

The city's neon glow, a garish tapestry of broken promises woven against the bruised twilight sky, held no allure for him. He was a creature of the shadows, his business conducted in the labyrinthine back alleys and forgotten corners of the city. He sidestepped a vagrant relieving himself against a crumbling wall, the stench of stale urine stinging his nostrils. A casual disregard of the crowd, a testament not only to the city's indifference, but to their own hard-won apathy.

They don't even see it anymore. Hunter thought, a flicker of disgust in his heart. Do they not feel this place killing them? He shook his head. Doesn't matter.

Soon enough, he'd be gone.

He'd settle his debts, every last credit, and then he'd vanish, leaving this nightmare behind. A quiet house on a remote beach like the ones Thad was always talking about... the image flickered in his mind, a beacon of hope. The thought of highwaymen and mercs on the open road was a small price to pay for freedom.

Anything was better than this.

A sudden commotion ahead shattered his reverie. The crowd scattered like startled rats as a knife flashed in the dim light. The violence was swift and brutal. One man lay sprawled on the grimy pavement, a crimson bloom spreading across his chest. The other, masked and panting, held a blood-slicked knife. A Republic guard emerged from the crowd, his hand outstretched. A quick exchange of credits, and the guard melted back into the throng, the city absorbing the violence as if it were a mere hiccup in its rhythm.

Hunter's jaw tightened. This place... it's a cancer.

He had to get out. And soon.

He had to finish what he started and leave.

The thought echoed in his mind, a desperate mantra. He had to get out of this city, this graveyard of dreams. He turned and walked away from the scene, the image of the dead man seared into his memory.

Another life wasted. Another reason to leave.

He quickened his pace, his boots echoing on the cracked pavement. He had to finish his business, settle his debts, and then he would be free. He would find that quiet beach, that escape from the shadows. He would leave this city and never look back.