BOOM

Click.

Click.

Click.

Tems peered over his magazine; gazing at the brunette across the bay whose typing resembled a chimpanzee's attempt at Morse code. With an exaggerated sigh, he tossed the magazine aside and made his way over, his irritation mounting with each step.

  "Hey, what's your problem?" she protested, stumbling back as he pushed past her.

 Ignoring her, Tems commandeered the keyboard and efficiently finished the report before hitting send with a flourish. He turned to face her, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Note to self: next time you lie on your resume, pick something you can at least fake."

“Tems,” a deep voice interrupted.

Turning, Tems met Sol's gaze, the burly dark-skinned man with scars on his neck. His grim expression told Tems everything he needed to know- there was blood in the water.

Again. 

 The air outside was thick with smog, the sky a sickly shade of white as Tems followed Sol across the waste field. 

  Tems felt a deep unease whenever he had to step outside during the day. First off, there was the stink that wafted from the shipping yards, sticking to him like a bad memory. It was the kind of smell that clawed at your throat, making it hard to forget long after you'd left its source. Then, there were the Runes. They were mutated humans, twisted and desolate remnants of humanity that lurked beyond the iron walls of Gremwan. The smell of decay and rot attracted them, so every morning when their shipping yards were fired up and that horrendous smell wafting through the air, Runes would be lurking nearby. It was said that those within the compound of Gremwan were safe from the Runes. Going outside of Gremwan was strictly forbidden, and punishable by death. It was a harsh rule. But it kept them safe.

   Sol let out a yawn as he squatted at the river that ran through Gremwan. Tems surveyed the scene, the sight of blood in the water confirming his suspicions. It was happening more frequently now, the tainted water supply from the outside was slowly making its way past their filter generators. 

  Tems glanced at the openings in the walls, the narrow windows offering a glimpse of the outside world. He stalked over to the glass, peering down at the river outside the walls. His breath caught in his throat as he beheld the thick, crimson flow. Despite the filters in the walls doing their best to clean it up, the sheer volume of blood was overwhelming. Tems grimaced at the bloody handprint smeared across the window, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch it.

  "Humans," Sol's voice broke through the tense silence, causing Tems to startle. "Real humans."

 For centuries, the notion of humans existing beyond the walls had been dismissed as fantasy, a tale spun by desperate minds seeking hope in a desolate world. Yet, the sight before them shattered that disbelief, proving that life persisted beyond the fortress's confines.

  Whoever these people were, they were trying to get in, but from the obvious state of things, failed. 

  "How is this possible?" Tems asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He fell into step behind Sol as they made their way towards the warehouse, a heaviness settling over them.

 Sol shook his head. “I don’t know. However, I do know that Yatsu has been getting anxious. He's considering sending out patrols again."

 Tems grabbed Sol’s shoulder, swiveling him back around. “What?”

Sol only stared at him, a hint of sadness and even disappointment in his eyes. 

  Tems’ disbelief melted to anger. "Patrols were banned for a reason! Do you know how many lives we've lost to the Runes?"

Yatsa was Gremwan’s leader. He was also insane. Secluded in a dark, windowless building, he communicated solely through messengers, his presence a whispered legend among the inhabitants. While the older generations remembered him as a courageous leader who guided them through the aftermath of the war, the newer ones knew him only as a shadowy figure lurking in the darkness both literally and metaphorically.

  Rumors swirled about the cause of his descent into madness. Some blamed it on his advanced age, while others pointed fingers at the polluted water. Regardless of the cause, one thing was clear: Yatsu's decision to send out patrols was a death sentence. The wilderness beyond their walls teemed with dangers, and venturing into it was a suicide mission. Yatsu knew that. 

  Sol's gaze swept across the camp, his expression grave as he observed the bustling activity. Laughter echoed from children at play, while adults toiled to clear the water supply. Nearby, engineers clustered around the water filter, their faces grim as they worked to remove the thick layer of blood clogging the machinery.

 "I can't fault him for considering it," Sol remarked, his voice low and resigned. "Without clean water, we're all as good as dead."

 Tems frowned. "But what if they bring back some disease and contaminate the rest of us?"

Turning to face him, Sol's eyes narrowed against the harsh sunlight. "Then we're screwed either way," he replied bluntly. "But at least if we take the risk and venture out there, there's a chance, however slim, that we might find a solution. If we stay here and do nothing… we die.”

                                                          *****

Tems ascended the ladder to the roof of the housing warehouse, the sun beating down mercilessly upon him. Whimsy, lost in her own world of scrap metal and innovation, glanced up from her workshop as he approached, her brown skin gleaming in the sun.

  "Tems!" she greeted with a grin, discarding her welding mask. She bounded over to him, a metal object clutched in her hand. "Hold out your arm."

Tems arched an eyebrow skeptically. "If you think I'm falling for another one of your electric zappers, think again."

  "Just trust me this time," Whimsy insisted, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

With a sigh, Tems reluctantly extended his arm, allowing Whimsy to attach the small device to his wrist. To his surprise, it secured itself painlessly to his skin, leaving him puzzled as to its purpose.

"Am I supposed to start flying or something?" he quipped, only to be abruptly knocked off his feet by a powerful blow. Stunned, he glanced up to see Whimsy doubled over in laughter, brandishing a large metal pipe.

 "Did you just hit me?!" Tems scoffed incredulously. "When I said ‘flying’ that wasn’t quite what I had in mind," Tems grumbled, rubbing his sore backside as he regained his footing. 

 Whimsy rolled her eyes, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Oh, stop being such a crybaby. Look.”

 Tems glanced down at the device once more, noticing a shimmering hue dancing all over his body. He inspected his arms and legs, suddenly realizing he hadn't actually been hurt, just surprised.

  "It's a shield of sorts, protects you from attacks," Whimsy said as she pressed the button on the top of the device. He watched it smoothly detach from his skin and fall into her palm.

"This is the only one. And I have to make, like, what, hundreds?" She turned around, plopping down at her desk, resuming her tinkering. "Apparently, Yatsu is sending out groups of ten at a time," she said, turning to him. "It's kind of looking like a long-term mission, at least until the source of the problem is fixed."

 Tems tried to hide his anger. So Yatsu was just going to send them out, just like that? One after the other until everyone was dead? What was he thinking? He needed to talk to him immediately. Turning, he made for the ladder.

  "Tems."

Tems stopped, looking back over his shoulder at his childhood friend.

She nodded towards him. "You still sending signals?"

  Tems instinctively grabbed at the locket hanging around his neck. His older sister, Rue, had been a part of the first ones sent out to patrol. Her entire squadron came back... all except her. Her teammates claimed the last they saw Rue, they were scouting around an old radio tower. It had been years, and there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't try to send out a message to that tower, hoping, praying that she’d respond — that she’d be alive. Rue was smart and strong. If there was anyone that could survive, it would be her.

  His throat suddenly dry, he gave a barely perceptible nod.

Whimsy’s expression saddened, her concerned eyes glaring into his. “Rue’s strong... stronger than anyone…”

 Tems only nodded and turned, climbing down the ladder. 

                                                    ****

  Tems marched with determination through the camp towards Yatsu's home. As he approached, his eyes narrowed at the sight of two men in dirty fatigues standing guard, guns in hand. His jaw clenched, but he pressed on, his resolve unwavering.

 "Tell Yatsu it’s Tems," he demanded, his voice cutting through the tense air.

 The guards remained silent, their grip tightening on their weapons.

 "I need to speak with him," Tems insisted, his tone brooking no argument. “Now.”

  One of the guards stepped forward, his expression stoic. "Yatsu's busy. He's not seeing anyone right now."

Tems’s patience wore thin. “I don’t care if he's busy. This is urgent. Lives are at stake."

 The guard hesitated, his gaze flickering between Tems and his companion. After a tense moment, he nodded towards the door. "Wait here. I'll see if he'll see you."

 Tems nodded curtly, his eyes never leaving the door as the guard disappeared inside. His heart pounded with anticipation, his mind racing with the urgency of the situation. He had to get Yatsu to reconsider the patrols. Nothing of fruition ever came out of them, only death and carnage. 

Minutes stretched into eternity before the door finally creaked open, revealing the guard. He gave a sharp nod, motioning for Tems to follow. Letting out an exhale, Tems steeled himself before entering the dark building.

  As he stepped inside, the guard quietly slipped out of the room, leaving Tems alone with Yatsu in the dimly lit space. The weight of the moment intensified as the door closed behind the departing guard. The only source of light was the flickering candle in the corner, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance around the room. He dropped to his knees on the cold floor, a required gesture of respect. Across the room, Yatsu remained shrouded in darkness, his presence ominous and enigmatic. 

  Gathering his resolve, Tems began to speak, his voice steady despite the uncertainty gnawing at his insides. "Yatsu, we need to talk. Your decision to send out patrols... it's not wise. Lives are being put at risk unnecessarily. We need to reconsider our approach."

 Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft crackle of the candle flame. Tems furrowed his brow, searching the darkness for any sign of Yatsu's response.

 "Yatsu?" he called out, the tension mounting with each passing moment.

Something was wrong. 

 As Tems rushed to grab the candle, his heart pounded in his chest, his senses heightened by the silence that enveloped the room. "Yatsu?" he called out once more, his voice tinged with urgency and apprehension. Still, there was no response.

  This silence was unlike the talkative Yatsu he knew. With cautious steps, Tems crossed over the invisible barrier that visitors were forbidden to pass. "Yat-" His voice trailed off abruptly as his eyes widened in horror.

  Before him, pinned to the wall by large metal spikes driven through his chest, was Yatsu's lifeless body. His head lay decapitated beside his limp form. And above the grisly scene, were words scrawled in blood:

"RUN"

  Shock and disbelief washed over Tems as he staggered back, his mind reeling at the sight before him. In a moment of sheer terror and desperation, Tems' instincts screamed at him to flee, to escape the suffocating grip of fear that threatened to engulf him. Without a second thought, he turned on his heel and bolted from the room, his heart pounding in his chest with each frantic step.

The world outside blurred into a chaotic whirlwind as he ran into the night, his mind consumed by the harrowing image of Yatsu's lifeless body pinned to the wall. Every shadow seemed to whisper of danger, every sound a sinister echo of the horror he had witnessed. With every stride, Tems pushed himself harder, driven by a primal need to escape the nightmare that had become his reality. 

Something near the wall openings caught his eye and he stumbled to a halt. Standing on the other side of one of the glass openings was a figure cloaked in white, their face concealed by a mask resembling a mummy. Fear gripped him as he stared, unable to tear his gaze away. His heart pounded in his chest like a drumbeat of dread as the figure slowly raised a finger, the movement deliberate. With a chilling sense of inevitability, Tems watched as the stranger used a bloody finger to trace a name on the glass:

Rue.

The name hit him like a physical blow, sending shockwaves of horror through his body. His mind reeled, unable to comprehend the implications of what he was seeing. Tems' breath hitched as he watched the mysterious figure, their eyes piercing through the fabric of their mask, locking onto his with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. Without a word, the figure backed away, their gaze never wavering from his, before turning and bolting into the shadows.

Heart racing, Tems rushed forward to the glass, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of the stranger. But in the blink of an eye, they had vanished.

 Who was that person?

And most importantly, why had they drawn Rue's name on the glass?

  As shouts erupted from the distance, Tems' heart pounded in his chest with a frantic rhythm of fear and desperation. They would suspect him, he realized with a sinking dread. Everyone knew of his animosity towards Yatsu — of course, he'd be the prime suspect in his murder.

 But trapped within the confines of the camp's walls, where could he possibly flee to? Panic surged through him as he raced through the narrow pathways, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.

  With a surge of desperation, Tems dashed towards the housing building, his mind racing with the need to find some semblance of safety. He scrambled up to the roof just as a group of Yatsu's guards thundered past below, their torches casting long shadows against the walls.

  Backing up against the edge of the roof, Tems spun around frantically, searching for any possible escape route. His hands trembled as he ran them through his sweat-drenched hair, his mind a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty.

  And then, in the midst of his panic, the image of the mysterious figure's piercing eyes flashed through his mind. They seemed to beckon to him, to prod him towards some unknown truth. The sight of Rue's name scrawled on the glass window suddenly took on a new significance — could it be that Rue was still alive? Had she somehow orchestrated this encounter to reach out to him?

 His gaze fixated on the contraption Whimsy had shown him earlier, his thoughts spinning through myriad possibilities.

   "No," he muttered under his breath. "Am I losing it?"

 Perhaps he was teetering on the edge of insanity. Venturing beyond the compound's walls was strictly prohibited, yet the prospect of Rue's survival compelled him to defy the rules. With determination hardening his resolve, he hurried to Whimsy's workstation, swooping up the device.

  The only viable escape route led through the sewage pipes, filled with the putrid sludge expelled by the compound's filters—an odor that permeated the air each morning. Climbing down the ladder, he trudged stealthily through the waste fields. 

  "There he is!" echoed a voice behind him. Tems swiveled, catching sight of Yatsu's guards hot on his trail. Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint, bolting towards the distant silhouette of the shipping yard.

 He sprinted until he reached the designated spot, but as he crossed over into the shipping yard, he stole a glance over his shoulder to find the guards halted, their gazes fixed on him. A chill raced down his spine, but there was no time to dwell on it. Halting abruptly, he braced himself against the overpowering stench assaulting his senses as he lifted the lid. Peering into the murky abyss, he saw the machinery churning the sludge at an alarming rate. If he could withstand the noxious fumes and avoid drowning in it, freedom awaited him on the other side. Every instinct urged him to retreat, labeling him as mad, but Rue's potential survival outweighed all doubts. Holding his breath, he leaped into the darkness.

Everything blurred into a nauseating swirl as Tems tumbled through the pipes, the rancid stench enveloping him. It felt like an eternity of twisting and turning until he splashed into a swamp, muck clinging to every inch of his body. Gasping for air, he fought his way to the surface, gagging and retching as he wiped the sludge from his face, trudging toward dry land. Collapsing onto the ground, he heaved and choked, his senses reeling.

  Footsteps echoed almost immediately. 

 Tems staggered to his feet, hastily securing Whimsy's device onto his wrist. As his vision adjusted, he spotted the same figure from earlier standing at a distance, gazing at him. Steeling himself, he prayed he hadn't made a mistake. Then, slowly, the figure lifted a gun high above their head and fired. The thunderous report sent Tems stumbling backward, crashing to the ground as a burst of blinding light exploded into the sky, illuminating the landscape as if a thousand suns had ignited.

  As the brilliance faded, Tems caught sight of the figure, slowly removing their headgear to reveal a girl with dark, raven hair, her narrowed eyes fixed on him. And then, she aimed the gun directly at him and uttered the word: "Boom."