Arthur and Jonas sat for a few moments, their backs pressed against the cold metal door, as their breathing gradually steadied. On the other side, the unsettling sound of the Scavengers' teeth grinding against the steel served as a constant reminder of the ongoing danger.
Quietly, Jonas pulled two small canteens and a few ration bars from his bag. Their plastic wrappers were worn and crinkled from age. He handed one to Arthur, who accepted it with a grateful nod.
- "Eat slowly," Jonas murmured as he opened his canteen. "It's been a long time since we've had to run like that."Arthur gave a weary smile and took a bite of the dry ration bar, its bland texture crumbling in his mouth. He sipped some water, enjoying the cool relief despite its faint metallic taste.
- "I've never seen so many Scavengers at once," Arthur said quietly, his gaze fixed on the dark corridor ahead.Jonas nodded slowly, chewing thoughtfully.
- "They're usually solitary, but in a wreck this big, they must band together to survive. We were very lucky."
Arthur glanced at the flux pistol lying beside Jonas, the blue glow of its crystal slowly dimming as it cooled.
- "How did you learn to use that?" he asked hesitantly.Jonas stayed silent for a moment, then chose his words carefully.
- "When you spend your life searching through places like this, you come across unusual things. I taught myself—just in case. I never thought I'd actually need to use it."
Arthur nodded slowly, the weight of their recent experience sinking in.
After a few minutes of silence, broken only by the distant sound of claws scraping metal, Jonas slowly stood, grimacing as his muscles protested.
- "We need to move," he said quietly. "These doors won't hold forever."
Arthur tucked away his empty flask and got up, his legs still shaky from the chase. They moved cautiously down the dark corridor, their flashlight beams casting long, flickering shadows across walls worn and eroded by time.
They continued for quite a while, winding through the cruiser's labyrinthine passages. Gradually, the unsettling sounds of the Scavengers faded behind them, replaced by a heavy, almost oppressive silence.
- "I think we finally lost them," Jonas muttered after a long pause, letting his shoulders relax slightly.
Arthur swept his flashlight beam across the walls, studying the carvings partially obscured by rust.
- "This section looks untouched," he remarked. "Maybe we'll find something interesting here."
Jonas allowed himself a faint smile.
- "Seems like your instincts are kicking in again."
Arthur approached a slightly ajar door on their right, its surface covered in a thick layer of rust. He carefully pushed it open. With a metallic groan, it creaked inward, revealing a spacious room filled with various pieces of equipment—some toppled over, others still in place despite the centuries.
- "Incredible," Arthur murmured as he stepped cautiously inside.
- "This looks like a maintenance workshop."
They swept their lights around the room, revealing shelves lined with unusual tools and an array of electronic components. Arthur felt that familiar pull again, drawing him toward a row of locked metal cabinets at the back of the room. He approached and examined the dust-covered locks.
- "Think we can open these?" Jonas asked, leaning over his shoulder.
Arthur didn't reply, simply pulling out a small multitool from his bag and methodically working on the first lock. Within moments, the corroded mechanism gave way with a satisfying click.
- "Impressive," Jonas murmured approvingly.
Arthur slowly opened the cabinet, revealing rows of neatly preserved items: electronic components, intact energy coils, and a collection of precision instruments that looked oddly familiar.
- "Look at this!" Arthur exclaimed, carefully removing a small silver box that glinted faintly beneath the dust. "A stabilized energy core!"
Jonas carefully took the object, marveling at its nearly perfect condition.
- "Arthur, this is worth a fortune."
Arthur smiled modestly, but Jonas shook his head with a warm smile.
- "It's more than luck, son. There's something in you—something guiding you. I don't know what it is, but I've always seen it."
Arthur blushed slightly, unsure of how to respond.
They continued their meticulous search, recovering several more rare, valuable, or simply useful pieces. With each new discovery, Jonas looked at his son with growing admiration, captivated by the seemingly innate intuition Arthur often displayed without even realizing it.
After filling their bags with as many useful items as they could carry, Jonas gently placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder.
- "I think we've found enough for today. Let's head back while we still can."
Arthur nodded slowly, casting a final glance around the room. He knew they'd unearthed treasures of immense value within this forgotten ship. Yet deep down, he felt this was only the beginning. A strange, profound pull gripped him—an inexplicable calling he didn't yet fully understand.
Without a word, he followed his father into the dark corridor, heading toward the exit. When they emerged from the wreck, they were met by a threatening sky. Thick black clouds had gathered above Scrapra, swirling and shifting at an alarming pace. Arthur felt a shiver run down his spine.
- "This doesn't look good," Jonas said, casting a wary glance at the storm-laden sky. "Hurry, son."
Without hesitation, they climbed into their makeshift vehicle. Jonas started it quickly, the machine groaning as it struggled free from the muddy ground. As they drove on, the first gusts of wind began to buffet the vehicle, flinging bits of metal and dust against the cracked windshield. Arthur gripped his seat tightly, his eyes darting nervously to the towering piles of scrap, feeling the ground grow slick beneath the vehicle's treads.
Scrapra was a hellish planet—an enormous scrapyard where mountains of debris teetered precariously atop one another. Their "town" was little more than a chaotic tangle of patched-together metal structures, connected by shaky walkways, rusty ladders, and half-collapsed suspension bridges. Every journey was a hazardous ordeal, a constant struggle against gravity, corrosion, and now the escalating winds that grew stronger by the minute.
Jonas gritted his teeth as the vehicle's treads slipped dangerously on a slick metal sheet.
- "Hold tight, Arthur. This is going to be rough!"
Arthur gripped the armrests tightly, his heart pounding as the vehicle skidded for several meters before Jonas managed to regain control just in time.
They finally reached the edge of their neighborhood. Around them, the few remaining residents hurried to secure their ramshackle shelters, slamming shutters, barricading anything that could be ripped away by the furious winds sweeping through the settlement. "Hurry up, we don't have much time before this gets out of control," Jonas said, pulling their vehicle to a stop in front of their home.
Their house was a modest shack built from salvaged sheet metal, precariously perched on the remains of a shipwreck that leaned forward. The door screeched painfully as they opened it. Inside, the main room was simple: a few handmade pieces of furniture crafted from scrap, a central metal stove struggling to radiate heat, and two small bedrooms separated by frayed curtains. "Barricade the windows!" Jonas ordered, already securing the door with heavy metal locks.
Arthur grabbed planks and sheets of metal leaning against the wall and quickly fastened them to the windows, shielding them from windblown debris. Outside, the wind intensified, shaking the entire structure with relentless force.
Jonas finally collapsed into a worn chair, exhaling deeply, his face etched with both exhaustion and concern.
- "This should hold," he murmured, though his tone betrayed doubt, his eyes fixed on the ceiling that trembled with every gust.
Arthur sat down near the stove, watching the weak flames crackle. The howling wind outside was deafening, each blast causing the fragile house to shudder.
- "Why didn't you ever want to leave Scrapra, Father?" Arthur asked suddenly, his gaze still fixed on the flickering flames. "Surely there's a better place out there."
Jonas slowly raised his eyes to his son, his expression grave and reflective.
- "Long ago, I thought about leaving. But to go where?" he said quietly. "Scrapra is far from everything—far from conflicts, far from the Empire, far from everything we wanted to escape. And I don't even have a ship."
Arthur looked up at his father, drawn by the strange melancholy in his voice.
- "But we can't spend our whole lives here," he said softly. Jonas stared at him for a moment, thoughtful.
- "Maybe not forever. But for now, this is home. And here, at least, we're safe."
Arthur sighed quietly, unconvinced, as he glanced around the quivering room. The threatening sounds outside reminded him just how fragile their safety really was.
Suddenly, a particularly violent gust shook the house, tearing a metallic screech from the structure. Jonas sprang to his feet, looking tense. "We'd better gather some essentials in case we need to leave quickly," he said urgently. "This storm is stronger than I thought."
Arthur moved swiftly, collecting tools, supplies, blankets, and clothing into bags. His pulse quickened with every ominous creak from the walls and roof. Outside, the clanging of collapsing metal structures created a dissonant, menacing symphony, underscoring just how precarious their situation had become.
- "If we have to leave," Jonas shouted, his voice barely rising above the wind's roar, "stay close to me at all times. A fall here could kill us instantly. Do you understand?"
Arthur nodded nervously, clutching his bag tightly. Each gust now felt strong enough to tear apart their shelter, and every tremor only heightened his anxiety.
Through the gaps in the metal plates covering the windows, Arthur caught a glimpse of the sky: a black void swirling in chaos. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to steady his frantic heartbeat.