Ring V always smelled worse after a breach.
Burned metal. Ozone. Something sour that never quite washed out. Cleanup crews called it residual contamination.
To everyone in Ring V, it was just another smell you learned to live with and never really got used to.
Being alive made it easier to tolerate. Barely.
This was Ring V, after all. The slums of the echelon. When something went wrong in the city, we were always the first to feel it.
The first to break.
A billboard flickered to life above the street.
A man in a pristine suit smiled down at us, teeth too white, eyes too calm.
HUMANITY ENDURES BECAUSE YOU DO.
I stared at it and huffed. Half the district was in ruins and the damn billboard still worked.
"Damn council and their propaganda," someone muttered beside me.
Then he broke.
"I lost my wife," the man said, voice cracking. "My daughter too."
His knees hit the pavement. No drama. Just gravity finally winning.
No one rushed to help him. Not because they didn't care, but because everyone knew that moment. Everyone had either lived it or was waiting their turn.
The kid I'd carried out tugged on my sleeve.
I looked down at him and forced my voice steady. "Don't worry. I'll find your parents. I know they're still out there."
It wasn't a promise.
It was a hope dressed up like one.
The kid smiled anyway. Bright. Trusting.
"Thank you, mister."
Something in my chest tightened.
I really hope I'm right, I thought.
I didn't go looking for the breach.
I just kept moving, asking when I could, showing the kid's face to anyone who might recognize it. Most people didn't stop. A few shook their heads. One woman knelt and asked the kid's name, then apologized when she didn't know it.
The streets closer to the breach were cordoned off, though "cordoned" felt generous. Tape fluttered where barricades should have been. Cleanup crews worked in tight lines, machines humming in careful patterns.
They didn't scan the ground.
They marked it.
I noticed.
And kept walking.
An IRT trooper blocked the route that used to cut straight through to the transit hub. His visor reflected smoke and flashing lights.
"Area's secure," he said calmly.
Behind him, the streetlights flickered out of sync.
I nodded and turned away.
Secure wasn't my problem.
Finding the kid's parents was.
Still, my head buzzed faintly, like my thoughts were dragging. The feeling sat under everything, heavy and wrong.
I ignored it.
I was tired. I was alive.
That was enough for one day.
While we walked, it hit me that I hadn't even asked his name.
"Hey, kid."
"Yes, mister?"
"What's your name?"
He hesitated, then looked up. "Alex, sir."
"How old are you, Alex?"
"I'm going to be six on Thursday."
The smile he tried to put on didn't stick.
Damn.
"Hey," I said, crouching a little. "What's wrong?"
He held it together for half a second longer than I expected.
"Please, sir," he said, voice shaking. "I can see you're tired too. Don't worry about me. Just take me to the orphanage."
My chest tightened.
"My parents are probably dead," he said quickly, like saying it fast might make it hurt less. "I don't want you chasing ghosts. You should look for your own family instead."
Then he broke.
Before I could answer, a voice drifted out from an alley to our right.
"Tell the kid to shut his mouth."
I turned.
A man leaned between two collapsing buildings, a cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. He didn't look angry.
Just exhausted in a way that had gone sour.
"What did you say?" I asked.
He stepped forward, smoke curling from his lips. "You heard me. Kid needs to learn how this place works."
He blew smoke toward us. I didn't move.
"We all lose something in Ring V," he continued. "Sooner he accepts that, the better. His parents are probably dead."
Alex flinched.
"Or," the man added flatly, "I can help him catch up to them."
My hands clenched before I realized it.
"You said it yourself," I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Probably, I thought.
That word mattered.
"That means they might still be alive."
I knelt fully this time, meeting Alex's eyes.
"As long as there's a chance," I said, "I'm not stopping."
Tears streamed down his face, but his eyes lit up anyway.
"I'll find your parents, Alex," I said. "That's a promise."
The man laughed. Short. Sharp. Bitter.
"Naive," he said. "Must be nice."
Then he turned and disappeared back into the alley.
I stood there a second longer than necessary.
Hope was dangerous in Ring V.
But letting it die felt worse.
Alex muttered something.
"Huh? What did you say?" I asked.
"I said thank you, sir."
I smiled and ruffled his hair.
"No need. And drop the sir. I'm just sixteen."
Then we walked toward the only place we hadn't checked.
District 12.