She grunts as she drags me into a room, slamming the door shut and barring it with whatever she can find. The benefit, at least, is that we’re safe for the moment. Outside, the creatures skitter around the Predlym, their movements sharp and erratic, like shards of bone scraping against metal. The sound makes me shudder. Then another wave of pain crashes over me, forcing a groan from my lips. My vision swims. Staying awake is becoming harder by the second.


“Don't you dare pass out on me,” Mia snaps, her voice sharp with concern.


“Trying,” I manage, forcing my eyes open. “Everything hurts.”


“I’m going to assume you broke something.” She’s already digging through her pack.


I shift slightly, trying to give her more room, but every movement sends pain ricocheting through my body. My arms ache from bruising, my ribs protest, and my legs feel as if they’ve been shredded from the inside out. I barely register Mia pulling something from her bag—until I see her aiming a sleek, pistol-like device at me. The barrel glows faintly blue.


“Mia, what are you—”


A beam of blue light washes over me, and I suck in a sharp breath. It’s warm and ice-cold at the same time, like stepping into a spring-fed lake on a scorching day. A strange grinding sensation crawls through my ribs and legs. I stare at Mia, wide-eyed.


“I ain't losing you yet,” she mutters, adjusting the device as she watches me.


Beneath us, the ground vibrates. The creatures outside shift, their eerie chattering fading downward, toward the earth. I exhale in relief just as a voice echoes from below.


“Installment Brigade Redeeming Lost Outpost!”


Mia stiffens, then sighs. “Reclamation squads.”


“That’s... a good thing, right?” I ask hesitantly.


“Yeah,” she says, but there’s something cautious in her tone. “My boys will wipe them out easily. We should help when you're feeling better.” She checks a mounted screen on her device.


I flex my fingers. The pain is duller now, distant. “I feel better, but what is that thing?” I nod toward the device still humming in her hand.


“They’re hyper-focused UV rays, carrying color frequencies the human eye can’t normally perceive, hence the blue.”


“So it heals with light?”


“And sound,” she adds.


“That’s possible?”


“It’s happening, so uh, yeah.” She chuckles lightly.


Outside, the air fills with the staccato blasts of energy weapons. The battle has begun. Mia moves to the door, removing the bar. I push myself upright, my balance unsteady. My legs tingle, the sensation akin to waking limbs after being numb for too long. I sigh, shaking them out as best as I can, and move to follow Mia to the bottom of the Predlym.


I scan the ground, eyes locking onto a large laser blaster. I pick it up, testing its weight before checking the remaining charge. Next to me, Mia readies her own weapon, gripping her electric whip in her offhand.


We push forward. The barricaded door is no longer intact; splintered wood and debris litter the floor where it once stood. Red and green lasers streak past us, illuminating the battlefield in flashes of violent color. Some shots strike the sand, forming brilliant crystals that scatter shimmering dust into the air. The bone-armored creatures are surrounded now, their glowing eyes peering from behind their masks, eerie and unblinking.


“We’ve got them surrounded!” a voice calls from the distance.


A chattering howl erupts from the bone spiders. The sight of them, clustered together, their armor clicking like brittle shells, makes my skin crawl. But then a new sound roars through the battlefield—a deep, mechanical growl. A figure in crimson-colored battle armor steps forward, raising a weapon with a long, thick nozzle.


“Fire!” a distorted voice commands.


A surge of purple and blue flames erupts from the weapon, washing over the creatures in a wave of searing heat. Mia gasps beside me as the inferno engulfs the bone spiders. Their screeches fill the air, piercing and unearthly. The stench of burning flesh and decay floods my nostrils.


“Whoa...” I exhale, watching the creatures writhe before falling still. The flames flicker, then die out, leaving behind smoldering remains. They can be killed after all.


We move toward the group that came to reclaim the Predlym. One of them—a figure clad in black metallic armor—steps forward. His helmet is seamless, save for a glass-like visor covering his face. I can’t help but wonder what kind of enhancements his suit provides.


“Stand down, men. Survivors.”


Mia steps forward. “We come from the Predlym. We arrived after the attack from the bone spiders.”


I raise my hands slightly, hoping they recognize the gesture as non-threatening. In the Badlands, trust is earned in blood and fire, but sometimes, a simple sign of goodwill goes a long way.


“You got them to leave the Predlym?” the armored man asks.


“Yes, sir.”


I glance at Mia. “You know who this is?”


She nods. “General Timerus.”


The man extends a gloved hand. “I am Etha,” I introduce myself, shaking it.


“You’re the one who went with Mia and discovered Old Boston, right?” Timerus asks.


“That’s him,” Mia confirms.


Recognition washes over me, unfamiliar and strange. I never expected anyone to know me by name, let alone acknowledge what we had done. In my mind, we had simply survived. We weren’t heroes. We were just trying to make life better in the Badlands.


“We’ve been tasked with helping you reach St. Lawrence Canyon,” Timerus says.


I stiffen. Suspicion coils in my gut. “Who asked you?”


“The mercenaries in New Boston relayed your mission,” he replies. “We simply want to help.”


Mia and I exchange glances. Neither of us trusts this situation, but we both understand that, for now, we need to play along.


“Lead the way,” she says.


We fall into step with the group, fifteen strong, including us. There’s safety in numbers—bandits and raiders will think twice before attacking a group this size. But the Badlands are full of threats that don’t fear numbers. Caution remains our greatest ally.


“We should reach St. Lawrence Canyon in a couple of days,” Timerus announces as we walk.


“Fair,” Mia says.


I glance at her, noting how her posture has loosened. Her nerves are settling, which eases mine slightly. Still, something about this feels too convenient.


“So you encountered the bone spiders and a giant worm?” Timerus asks.


“We named the worm Asag, after the ancient Sumerian monster,” I say. “Fitting, given its size.”


“Talk about luck.”


“You’re telling me.”


The scent of salt grows stronger as we trek forward, a sign that we’re nearing our destination. The St. Lawrence Canyon isn’t far now. I only hope Mia was right about the information we have.


“We should reach the canyon by nightfall tomorrow,” Timerus announces.


I exhale, steeling myself for whatever comes next. If the Badlands have taught me anything, it’s that nothing ever goes according to plan.