The Badlands: Kinship

 I walk with Mia and the shopkeeper as he leads us into a more remote piece of his shack, as he prepares to share a little more about the A.R.P. which I personally have never heard of. I watch them both, waiting to learn. Along the way, I pick up a couple of pieces of tech to buy. A handle that's labelled as an electric whip, a deck of illusion based cards, a blaster and that's about all I see worth my interest for now.

“So, spill.” Mia demands from the shopkeeper.

“Well, the A.R.P. are a group that stands for reclaiming Old America for the people of the badlands.

I roam a bit as I sigh and listen to their conversation. I want to know more, but at the same time, I am more worried about how we can further our odds of survival. I look between the tech and the displays, but also look to Mia on occasion as they continue speaking.

“The A.R.P. it stands for the American Reclamation Party.” Mia explains.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I do know they stand for taking back the old world's tech to try to better the lives of the badlands people overall. I heard that they're also all over the badlands. The shopkeeper admits.

I stop walking as I spot a new bit of technology that is interesting by its name alone. ‘Project Dawn breaker’. I sigh before I work up the courage to ask about it.

“Hey guys, what’s project dawn breaker?” I ask afraid of sounding dumb.

“I’m not sure, Etha. It’s probably another project from Ark Tech.” Mia says.

I nod and gesture Mia to come with me to pay for the gear I’ve found. The shopkeeper and Mia both follow me to the front. Mia pays for the equipment before I can even consider paying for myself. I look at her with a bit of a mist in my head. Why is she paying?

Mia nods at the shopkeeper as she ushers me towards the front door. She waves to the shopkeeper and we continue along the desert land, preparing to head farther along the journey. The heavy air of the desert almost is burning my lungs with its heavy dampness.

It feels like we walk along the desert for ages. The sun begins to descend the sky. Me and Mia exchange looks and nod in agreement. We should actually set up camp for the night.

“So, what do we do for shelter? You shown me that silver thing earlier.” I break our silence.

“Well, that’s the device that will be making the campsite overall.” She replies as she puts her bag on the ground.

Mia pulls out the silver cylinder from earlier and hands me a steel box. She walks a few steps and activates the silver cylinder. Before too long, pieces separate and begin to assemble a tent and a few seats for us to enjoy a meal at. It’s near instantaneous and leaves me speechless.

I hold the box as I stare at it. I feel so dumbfounded. What could this box possibly do? I mean, a cylinder can become a shelter. Who's to say this box doesn't set up a campfire area?

It seems as though in the Old World they had anything they needed. Yet, they destroyed themselves and most of humanity alongside them. It is flabbergasting. Here in the modern day, we scrounge to survive.

I toss the box in front of the metallic tent. The moment the box lands, a soft hum fills the air, followed by a mechanical whir. Then—fire. Not the slow struggle of striking flint or waiting for kindling to catch, but instant, roaring flames, as if summoned by some unseen hand. My breath catches. The Old World wasn’t just advanced; they were gods among men. And they still let it all burn.

"Alright," Mia says as she sets down her pack into the tent. I can't help but notice her more.

She slips and falls into the tent. I can't help but laugh lightheartedly in the moment. I can hear her growling as she fights to get up inside of the tent.

"Need a hand?" I ask her.

"No, I am fine." She audibly sounds frustrated.

I sit by the fire. The night sky yawns open above us, littered with stars, cold and indifferent. The fire crackles, its glow barely pushing back the shadows that stretch endlessly across the sand. Out here, in the dead of the Badlands, the dark isn’t just empty—it’s waiting. I find myself staring for a while. Mia sits quietly across from me. We each have a fabric and metal poles. They are fold-capable, built into the platform that expanded from the rectangular box I threw earlier.

I sigh with exasperation. Mia goes into the tent. I can't help myself but wonder what we are really going to achieve in New Boston. Where are we going after? I haven't thought of that possibility.

"I'm going to go get ready for bed," Mia says.

"Alright," I reply.

She shuffles her way into the tent. I find myself looking around the darkness we call night. The lack of light makes it so I can't see past the light of the campfire. I sit in the silence for a while. The cool night air begins to wish away the dry day air. The moisture comes back into the air after sunset, it seems. The coolness sets into my bones fairly quickly.

I can hear Mia shuffling around in the tent, presumably to get comfortable. My mind wanders for a moment. I myself have never shared a bed. This will be my first time. I try to shake the idea of her being interested in me from my mind. It's but a distraction. We have a mission to get done.

I grab a pale that popped from the campfire box. It weighs a lot and sways with waves as I carry it. The splashing of the golden-brown water winds up spilling drops all over the ground. I manage to save most of it and extinguish the fire with a violent hiss from the water.

"You're coming to bed?" I can hear Mia asking from within the tent.

"Yeah, long day ahead tomorrow," I say as I approach the tent.

I can hear springs bouncing with a squeak and something ruffling as I grab the door to the tent. I shift my way into the flexible metal door and reseal it. The air inside is crisp—too crisp, too clean. The walls hum faintly, pulsing with circuits barely visible beneath the metal. A humidifier purrs in one corner, mist curling in the artificial light of two dim lanterns. This isn’t just shelter; it’s a relic from a world that could bend nature to its will. And we’re just squatting in its remains.

As I glance from my left to my right, I can see it's in fact two lanterns that dimly light the internals of the tent up. There is one on each side of the bed, which has an almost entirely covered Mia, hiding behind a comforter she is holding entirely over herself, up to her face.

I walk towards the bed, and she lays down with her face red. I haven't any idea why. I sigh. I lift the mustard-colored shirt I've been wearing off, along with my pants, as per usual, without thinking anything of it, and hide myself in the covers in bed, switching my lantern off.

"No funny business, Etha." She turns her head to face me.

She is still very red. It is now I realize why. Neither of us have proper sleepwear or under coverings. In fact, she has at least her lower half covered with self-made coverings. I, however, never was able to craft them or afford them. Now it is I who is turning red.

"I-it's not like that, Mia," I reply.

"Alright, goodnight." She sighs and faces her head back to the way she was prior.

I roll to face the outside of the bed, my breath uneven as warmth settles against my back. Heat creeps up my neck, a slow, unshakable presence that has nothing to do with the air. Her breath, soft and rhythmic, brushes against my skin, a quiet reminder that I am not alone. The space between us feels fragile, charged with something I can’t quite name. My mind urges me to focus on sleep, on the journey ahead—but all I can think about is the weight of her presence, the unfamiliar comfort of another body so close. It is grounding. It is unsettling. And it is something I never realized I missed.

I can feel her roll over to face me. I can feel her arm pull me closer to her until I can feel her bare chest against my back. I can't help but feel my cheeks go hot. No one has ever been this close to me. I try to keep calm in my mind. My body feels like it wants to burst with energy.

"Who's trying something funny now?" I say.

"W-what?!" Mia exclaims.

"You're all cuddled up, not that I'm complaining," I say with a laugh.

"You ass." She slaps the back of my head.

"Oh, come on now, that is ironic and funny." I laugh a bit more. She ends up giggling a bit.

"Fine, but I find the air conditioning cold, and you are warm... so I just..." Her voice drifts.

This moment carries a strange weight—like a memory half-formed, lingering at the edges of my mind. It feels too familiar, yet impossibly foreign, as if I’ve lived it before but lost the details in the passing years. A warmth spreads in my chest, both comforting and unnerving. I smile, caught between the ghost of something I can’t recall and the undeniable reality of now.

"Do as you will," I reply. I slip an arm under my pillow and yawn.

"I-it's not like that!" She says as her face hits against my back.

"You know, hiding against my back doesn't hide you. I can't see you, anyway." I laugh lightly.

"I know..." I feel her pull her face away.

"So, you said you're from Basha too?" I ask.

"Well, my name is really Amelia, but most can't pronounce it, so I introduce myself as Mia instead," she says back.

It all makes sense now, like a long-forgotten melody playing faintly in the back of my mind. She had her parents with her when she left Basha, leaving behind the dust and decay of our old home. We were friends once—closer than I had realized. The memories trickle back in pieces, like fragments of an old dream slipping through my fingers. I never knew why she and her parents left, but now, as I look at her, I remember the laughter, the quiet moments, the bond we shared before time and distance buried it beneath the shifting sands of the Badlands.

"Wait, your parents owned the salvage shop, right?" I ask.

"Yeah. So you do remember something of our old days." She sighs. "Thought maybe ya forgotten me."

"Almost did. Been a long time, Mia," I reply.

"How much do you remember?" she asks.

"Just that right now," I admit.

"I see," she says.

Sleep takes me, but just before the darkness wins, something stirs in my mind—a whisper of a memory, blurred by time. A storm. A girl. A promise. But before I can reach for it, the shadows swallow it whole.