This domed city was the last cradle left to humanity. One hundred thirty years since Earth's air turned to ash, fifteen thousand lives breathe only because a handful of engineers keep century-old machines limping forward—and none more vital than nineteen-year-old Hartin Alec, the youngest Chief Maintenance Technician in the dome's history.
Alec has lived his whole life inside Dome Varos's iron ribs, hated by the veterans he outranks, sustained only by exhaustion, duty, and the quiet companionsh
The Question Blooming on the Star of Ash - Fire Falling from the Sky
His throat burned with thirst.
Hartin Alec crouched in the shadow of a crumbling wall. The wound on his cheek had already scabbed over. The burn on his right arm was healing too, puckering red and black as it closed. Since that day—since the day he was cast out from the Dome—his body had been slowly, but steadily, mending itself.
(Water. I need to find water.)
The small terminal in his hand, the Orbita Key, glowed faintly. An old relic from the pre-age era, discovered in the underground of Station Nine—a military facility buried beneath the sand. When activated, it connected to an ancient military satellite far overhead, the Helios Net. He'd learned that it could even locate underground water veins that didn't appear on any map.
A blue point of light appeared on the screen.
(There. Thirty meters underground... close.)
Alec focused on the terminal. His fingers traced across the control panel. Three weeks of practice, day after day. Still far from perfect. But gradually, he was beginning to grasp the feel of it.
(Just a little more precision and—)
That was when it happened.
Crunch.
The sound of footsteps in the sand behind him.
Before he could turn, a thick arm wrapped around his neck.
"...!"
His voice cut off mid-cry. Something wet was pulled over his head. His vision went black. His struggling hands were roughly torn away from the Orbita Key.
"Got him."
An unfamiliar man's voice. Another man laughed somewhere nearby.
Alec was slammed to the ground, his arms bound behind his back. Through ragged breathing came the sound of metal scraping, an engine roaring to life. His body was lifted and thrown onto a hard truck bed.
(Iron Fang... that clan of Dustwalkers?)
He'd heard the rumors many times while wandering the wasteland. A group of about thirty rough men and women who made their territory around Dome Varos. They survived by fighting over the waste materials discarded from the Dome.
The truck lurched forward. Vibrations rattled through his bones.
Inside the bag, Alec clenched his teeth.
(What a pain...)
***
When he was dragged out, the air reeked of dust and oil.
The bag was ripped from his head.
What came into view was rust-colored steel beams and a half-collapsed roof. An old gas station converted into a fortress. Around broken fuel pumps sat crude tents and campfires. Nearly thirty men and women surrounded Alec in a circle.
A massive man in the center walked slowly toward him.
A sun-scorched face. A large scar across one eye. A crude iron club hung at his waist. A body a full size larger than anyone around him.
"Rare prey."
A low voice, like something crawling along the ground. The men around him grinned wickedly, closing in.
"...Who are you?"
Alec forced his trembling voice to stay steady.
"Galdo. Nobody around here doesn't know my name."
The moment he introduced himself, Galdo's fist slammed into Alec's cheek.
A dull thud. The world flashed white. As Alec fell, kicks followed, driving him further down.
"Still got that look in your eyes. For someone thrown out of the Dome, you've got nerve."
Galdo crouched down and grabbed Alec's jaw.
"...I don't know anything."
Alec spat out blood-tinged saliva. Galdo's eyes narrowed with amusement.
"Mouthy little bastard. Strip him."
His men roughly tore away Alec's protective suit. His filter mask was taken too. The toxic atmosphere touched his skin directly. His throat burned with a searing pain.
Then one of Galdo's men picked up a small terminal from the pouch Alec had dropped.
"Boss, he had something like this."
Galdo took it and narrowed his eyes.
"...Never seen a model like this before."
Galdo tried to operate the terminal. He touched the screen. But—
A dry electronic beep. A red light flashed once, then the screen went dark.
"It won't work. Hey, you—"
Galdo's gaze turned to Alec.
"What is this? Tell me how to use it."
"...How should I know? Maybe it's broken."
Alec answered in a dry voice, still lying on the ground. His heart was pounding painfully fast.
(Biometric authentication... it won't respond to anyone but my hand.)
He couldn't tell the truth. He couldn't let this monster of a man have access to this power.
Galdo's expression turned cold.
"You don't look like you're lying."
Galdo stepped on Alec's left hand, pinning it to the ground. He took a dully gleaming metal rod from one of his men.
"I'll ask one more time. Tell me how to use it."
"...What if I refuse?"
Galdo laughed.
"I'll break your fingers one by one."
The metal rod was pressed against Alec's left index finger.
Slowly, weight was applied.
"...Stop—"
A crack. The sensation of bone grinding shot from his fingertip through his entire arm.
"Ahhhhhhh!!"
A scream echoed through the fortress. His finger bent at an impossible angle. His vision blurred with tears. His mind went white.
"Still won't talk?"
Galdo's voice sounded distant. Consciousness sank like it was drowning in deep water.
(Silas...)
For some reason, that name floated through his fading mind.
(Where are you right now...)
Then consciousness cut out entirely.
***
When he came to, everything was dark.
Alec lay in what seemed to be a warehouse. His hands and feet were bound with rope. His broken finger throbbed, sending waves of burning pain with every movement.
(Where am I...)
Old shelves and dust-covered cardboard boxes. Starlight filtered weakly through a gap in the window.
Then a small noise crackled near his ear.
Pssst, pssst.
Something was rolling near his ear. A small radio, about the size of a palm, that someone had quietly placed there.
"...Can you hear me?"
A quiet, emotionless woman's voice came through the radio.
"...Who are you?"
Alec answered in a low voice, fighting through the pain.
"I'm Lana. I deal in information out in the wasteland. That terminal you had—it's a control device for the Helios Net, right?"
Alec's body went rigid.
(How does she know that...)
"...What are you going to do with that information?"
"A trade. I'll tell you when the guards change shifts and where the weapons cache is. In exchange, you give me information about Dome Varos later."
Her voice was matter-of-fact. No self-importance, no sympathy. Just laying out the necessary terms.
"...Why should I trust that?"
"You don't have to. I'm just telling you whether you die tonight or live."
A brief silence.
Alec stared up at the dark ceiling, enduring the pain in his broken finger.
(No choice really.)
"...Understood. I'll take the deal."
"Right. Behind the shelf you're near, one board is loose. Use that to cut the rope."
Following her instructions, Alec twisted his body. Using only the fingers next to his broken one, he felt along the back of the shelf for the jagged wood. He rubbed the rope against it. It took time. Sweat ran down his back.
By the time the rope finally loosened, the air outside had completely turned to night.
"There are only two guards on the east side right now. They change in three minutes. In that gap, slip past the fuel pump on the south side, then go three hundred meters south. There's a rocky area."
Alec pushed open the warehouse door, cradling his injured left hand.
Night wind brushed his cheek.
(I have to go.)
***
When Alec reached the rocky area, he was breathing hard. His entire body was cold with sweat, and his broken finger throbbed with heat.
Hiding in the shadow of a rock, Alec held the Orbita Key that should have been taken from him.
(Lana... she got it back for me?)
Somehow, it had been placed in a crevice of the rock along with the radio. He didn't know who retrieved it or how. But there was no time to question it.
"I've sent the coordinates. The weapons cache and where the vehicles are parked."
Lana's voice came through the radio.
Alec raised the terminal. Every time his broken index finger touched the screen, it cried out in pain.
"...Ugh..."
He gritted his teeth. The pain made his fingertips barely responsive.
(Still have to do this.)
The outline of the Iron Fang fortress appeared on the screen. Far overhead, the satellite constellation—the Helios Net—responded to Alec's will.
He adjusted the targeting. His finger slipped.
Light was released.
Boom—
A beam of light fell from the night sky. The ground shook. But the impact point was far from the target, only scorching empty wasteland.
"Damn..."
"Calm down. One more time."
Her quiet voice resonated in his ear. Alec took a deep breath. He pushed the pain of his broken finger outside his consciousness.
(Look. Find the weapons cache position exactly.)
He slowly moved the light point on the screen. This time, carefully.
The targeting aligned.
"Go."
The night sky split white.
Boom!!!
A pillar of light five meters in diameter pierced the Iron Fang weapons cache. With a roar, vehicles erupted in flames one after another. The explosions chained together, illuminating the entire fortress like midday.
"It's a monster! Fire's falling from the sky!"
Galdo's scream reached even the rocky area. His men fled in all directions without weapons. Screams and shouts mixed together, and the fortress transformed in an instant into a hellscape of flames.
Alec watched the burning landscape from behind the rocks.
Something pounded violently in his chest. Not fear. Something else entirely, something without a name.
(Is this... my power?)
***
When morning came, thin black smoke still rose from the burned ruins.
Alec, cradling his injured left hand, was sifting through what Iron Fang had left behind. Containers of water, dried food, usable tools. His broken finger still wouldn't move. He'd wrapped a stick around it as a makeshift splint with his right hand.
"Cleaner than I expected."
A quiet voice came from behind.
He turned to see a girl standing there.
Black hair shaved on one side. Sharp gray eyes looking directly at him. Several piercings lined her left ear. Her expression was frozen like ice.
"...So you're Lana?"
"That's right."
Lana answered briefly, then looked toward the ruins.
"You're pretty skilled. Though your hand looks pretty rough."
She said it in an emotionless voice. No sympathy, no praise. Just confirming facts. Only facts.
"...The rest of the deal. The information you promised."
Alec asked, fighting through the pain.
Lana stared at his face for a moment.
"...I should warn you first. This is going to be harsh."
"I don't care. Tell me."
Lana exhaled once.
"The Dome Varos Maintenance Council—the ones who threw you out. Three days after you were exiled, Vain Silas took the highest seat. All five council members, unanimous."
The world seemed to stop.
"...Three days... after?"
Alec's voice cracked.
"That's not all. All the records you built up as chief maintenance technician—the design corrections, the component improvements, everything has been rewritten under Silas's name."
"When I heard rumors of you in the wasteland, I got curious and investigated. It wasn't a sudden accident. It was planned from the start to seize power."
Alec's knees collapsed onto the sand.
(Three days... just three days...)
The scene from that day replayed in his mind. Silas's unmarked face. Those eyes with all emotion erased.
(From that moment, you had already decided everything?)
The pain in his broken finger surged up from deep within his body. But something deeper was hurting far more intensely.
"...That bastard... from the start, he..."
Words wouldn't come. Only a voiceless scream leaked from his throat.
Tears fell onto the dry sand.
Lana watched Alec from a distance. Her expression didn't change. But she didn't leave.
The smoke from the ruins drifted slowly in the morning wind.
Alec stared up at the gray sky, his broken fingers clenched tight.
(Silas... sitting in that highest seat... what are you thinking?)
The wasteland wind blew quietly between them.
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