The sun had long since faded behind a curtain of radioactive haze.
Nora's Geiger counter clicked faintly as she crossed a shattered backyard, pushing aside a scorched fence gate. The air was heavier here—thicker, tainted by decades of fallout and decay.
"This area's hot," she muttered, holding the counter up. "Radiation's spiking."
Ashborn padded silently behind her, unfazed.
If anything, he thrived in it.
She didn't notice how his breathing grew steadier the deeper they walked, or how his eyes shimmered faintly in the green-tinged air. This was his element.
Because he wasn't afraid of radiation.
He fed on it.
They reached the husk of an old suburban house. The interior glowed faintly—a sinkhole had formed beneath the floor, exposing cracked pipes and a leaking nuclear fuel cell in the basement.
Nora coughed, stumbling. "Damn... It's everywhere down here. We should turn back—"
The buzz of servos made her stop cold.
Out of the darkness rolled a half-melted Mr. Handy unit, its dome cracked and optics flickering. Its saw-arm sparked wildly as it screeched, "Improper sanitation! Terminating biological contaminant!"
It lunged.
Nora fired instinctively, bullets ricocheting off its metal shell.
She was too close.
Too exposed.
Ashborn moved like a whisper of smoke.
One moment crouched.
The next—airborne, claws out, jaws open.
But he wasn't fast enough. The Mr. Handy's saw connected—slicing into Nora's shoulder with a scream of steel.
She fell, hard.
Blood spattered the cracked tile.
Ashborn roared.
Not a beast's roar.
A sound of anger.
Of fury.
[SYSTEM TRIGGERED]Radiation Detected: +37rHost Damage: 0%Bonded Subject Critical: 63%
→ Emergency Craft Access Granted
Draw from stockpile?[YES] | [NO]
Ashborn didn't hesitate.
[Confirmed]— Consuming 25r...— Generating: Organic Enhancement – "Fleshshard Spike" (Bone-Type Weapon)— Temporary Mutation: [Adrenal Overdrive]
His body ignited from within.
Veins of pulsing green light ran through his limbs.
With a sharp, wet crack, a jagged white spike erupted from his right forearm—part bone, part crystalized matter drawn from pure fallout.
He surged forward.
Faster than before.
He collided with the Mr. Handy mid-charge, the spike driving directly through its dome. Sparks erupted in every direction. The bot wailed—then fell silent as Ashborn twisted, tearing it in half with a sound like steel screaming.
Silence returned, broken only by Nora's pained breaths.
Ashborn rushed to her side.
Her blood seeped between her fingers. She tried to speak—but only managed a weak, "You…"
He lowered his head beside her, pressing close.
Warmth pulsed from his core.
And then—
[Bonded Subject in Recovery]Minor Radiation Detected: 6r
Offer Radiation?➤ Transfer: Yes | No
→ Transfer will cleanse injury and enhance cellular regeneration. Risk: Minor Mutation (Low)
He didn't understand all of it.
But he understood help.
Ashborn chose: Yes.
A faint green glow passed from his chest to her body, like a pulse of light carried on breath.
Her bleeding slowed.
Her skin tingled.
She gasped—not in pain, but from the sudden warmth coursing through her.
Nora blinked up at him. "You're… healing me?"
Ashborn stared.
Not like an animal.
But like someone who knew what it meant to protect.
By morning, the sky had cleared a little. Nora's arm was stiff but wrapped, and her fever had broken.
They sat in silence beside a rusted-out car, staring at the glowing horizon.
"You used radiation," she said softly. "You ate it. Changed because of it."
Ashborn tilted his head, watching her.
"You're not from this world," she whispered. "Are you?"
He looked away.
Because she was right.
He remembered Earth—but not this one. Roads that weren't broken. Cities that weren't ash. Screens full of color. His hands—human.
Before.
[New Trait Unlocked: Radiation Sculptor]Current Stockpile: 18rCraft Tier: 1Next Tier Unlocks at 250r
Craftable Items:— Organic Armor (Spineplate)— Blood Catalyst (Boost STR/AGI temporarily)— Healing Core (transferable to allies)
He didn't know what kind of creature he would become.
But one thing was certain:
He was no longer powerless.
And he was no longer alone.