Chapter 1: Ashes of the Old World
The sun was a distant ember in a sky too dark to remember. Emma stood at the edge of the ruins, staring out over the barren wasteland where the city once stood. Skyscrapers, now mere skeletons of steel and concrete, reached toward a sky that seemed perpetually tinged with gray. The wind, dry and bitter, kicked up ash from the ground, swirling it in small, ghostly dances.
She had heard the stories—the ones whispered around campfires about a world that once thrived. But Emma was born in the aftermath. The collapse, as it had been called, had come with a roar, a violent rift in the fabric of civilization. War, disease, and unchecked greed had ravaged the Earth. The few who remained now lived in the shadows of a world that could no longer support them.
Emma adjusted her jacket, the fabric threadbare from years of use. It was the only protection she had against the ever-present wind. Her hair was tangled and wild, her face dusted with the remnants of a life she no longer recognized. The world she lived in was no place for the faint-hearted. Trust was a currency no one could afford, and survival meant making choices that often left a trail of broken people in your wake.
She was one of the lucky ones—at least, she liked to tell herself that. She was alive. For how long? No one could say. But today, she was still breathing.
"Ready to go?" a voice called out from behind her.
Emma turned. Standing in the doorway of a half-collapsed building was Max, her companion. His face was as weathered as hers, but there was a hardness in his eyes, a survival instinct that had been forged through years of this brutal existence.
"Yeah," she replied. "Let’s get moving."
Together, they ventured deeper into the heart of the city, their footsteps echoing against the silence. There were no birds, no insects, just the sound of their boots crunching on the charred remains of a once-thriving world.
"Any sign of them?" Max asked.
"Not yet," Emma said, scanning the streets for movement. The “them” referred to the Marauders—a ruthless band of raiders who had been sweeping across the wasteland, taking what they wanted and leaving nothing but death in their wake. Rumor had it they were headed toward the last known supply depot. It was a place of hope, a relic of the old world that still held the promise of food, medicine, and clean water.
They had to reach it first.
