The sky was a muted grey-blue haze, the moon drifting behind layers of industrial mist. But the Fox was exhausted, her chest still ached from the cuts, and her shoulders felt too light without her limbs. She found an abandoned bus half-submerged at the edge of a shallow pool. The windows were long shattered, seats torn out, vines creeping through the door.
It would do.
She crawled inside, curled up against the corner where metal met moss, and let the gentle mechanical groans of the Ribbon lull her into uneasy sleep.
_________________________________________________________________________
When morning came, it came gently. Soft light through broken windows, reflecting in ripples across the bus floor. Fox blinked awake, rubbed her eyes, and reached into her backpack.
Clink.
A dented can of rations. She flicked it open with her knife and began eating straight from it.
[Fox] "Morning,"
She mumbled through a half-mouthful.
[M.A.R.S.]
"Good morning, Fox. Did you rest well?"
[Fox] "As good as I can in a corpse of a bus. At least no one tried stabbing me while I slept."
[M.A.R.S.]
"That is an advantage over sleeping out in the open, yes."
She scraped the last spoonful and stretched.
[Fox] "What's the plan? More walking?"
[M.A.R.S.]
"You are, as always, full of optimism."
She rolled her eyes, slipped the empty can into a pouch, and stepped out into the shallow waters of the Ribbon.
The surface shimmered like mercury over stone. Broken lampposts dotted the landscape, their lights long dead. Strange vines wrapped around their poles, pulsing faintly with captured electricity.
She walked.
_________________________________________________________________________
The first sign of movement was a ripple, slow and rhythmic. The Fox paused. Ahead, partially submerged in moonlit water even though the sun was rising, stood another crab. This one was closer than the one last time, towering metal plates glinted with droplets. The creature's legs moved with surprising gentleness as it combed for minerals along the ground.
When its sensors turned toward her, she froze on instinct.
The crab simply... stared.
Not hostile. Not scared. Just a quiet acknowledgement, like two animals spotting each other at a watering hole.
[Fox] "...Hey,"
It blinked a mechanical iris, then turned away and resumed its methoical walk.
[Fox] "See? I told you, M.A.R.S., not everything wants to kill me."
[M.A.R.S.]
"Give it time."
She snorted,
[Fox] "You are terrible at morning encouragement."
[M.A.R.S.]
"I am consistent."
The Fox grinned—and then—
FWOOOM
A metallic shell screamed overhead.
She ducked so fast she almost face-planted.
The projectile struck the crab square in the thorax. A burst of white-hot sparks erupted, sending the creature staggering. Another shell, then anohter, relentless, concussive blasts hammering the metal titan backward.
[Fox] "What the—!"
Her ears rang. Water splashed up in violent plumes. Through the haze, something buzzed, deep, resonant, mechanical.
From above, descended a wasp.
Except "wasp" felt too small for this thing.
This machine was nearly twice her height, armored in harsh black alloys, wings unfurling like serrated plates. Each flap sent ripples spiraling across the water. Its stinger was replaced by a missile barrel still smoking from the attack.
The crab collapsed, legs twitching. The wasp perched atop the carcass like a conquering predator stalking its claim, balancing with errie natural instinct.
Then its head swiveled toward her.
Eyes, two glowing red beads, locked onto her.
The barrel at the tip of its tail rose.
[Fox] "Ohhh no you don't—!"
She took a step back to run—
[???] "Don't"
The voice behind her was so sudden, so close, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around.
A man stood there, human, undeniably human. Rough stubble, sunburnt skin, hair grown wild and untrimmed. His face was hard, angular, as if carved by too many years of distrust. Over his shoulders hung a brown-and-black poncho woven from stealth fabric that shimmered subtly, bending light.
His eyes were the most striking, cold grey, assessing her like she was a malfunctioning device.
[???] "State your name. And who do you work for—or better yet, who do you worship, man or machine?"
The Fox's throat went dry. Behind her, the wasp's targetting system clicked softly.
[M.A.R.S.]
"Answer honestly. You do not work for man. The people here hate the government more than anything. One claim of loyalty to big corpo and they'll blow your head off. And do not mention me. I am not... well-liked."
Fox forced a breath in.
[Fox] "Name's uhh... Fox."
She tried to keep her voice steady.
[Fox] "And I... don't work for anyone. I'm just travelling. Passing through."
[???] "Travelling?"
His brow lifted, skeptical.
[Fox] "Wanderlust. Or bad decisions. Hard to tell sometimes."
His stare didn't soften, but it shifted, calculating rather than hostile.
[Wasp-guy] "You dress too light for a traveller. No companions either."
[Fox] "I had all that. Lost it. Still alive though, so... could've gone worse."
The man glanced toward the wasp. The giant machine folded its wings but kept its stinger aimed, waiting.
Finally, the man exhaled.
[Wasp-guy] "Fine. Whatever. I don't get the sense you're lying. And you don't smell like trouble. You're free to go."
[Fox] "Really? Just like that?"
[Wasp-guy] "I'll be keeping an eye on you. Everyone gets watched in the Ribbon. Especially strangers."
She raised her hands in mock surrender.
[Fox] "Fair enough. And uh... thanks for not letting your giant bug explode me."
He didn't laugh.
The wasp stepped away from the crab's corpse and hovered to his side. The way it moved toward him wasn't obedient, it was familiar. Natural. Symbiotic.
A strange partnership, man and machine walking together like old companions.
He turned to leave, the wasp following closely behind.
The Fox watched them go, the man's poncho rippling, the wasp's wings whispering like blades through mist.
[Fox] "I'm starting to think that everyone out here has a friend but me."
[M.A.R.S.]
"I am here,"
[Fox] "Yeah,"
She said softly.
[Fox] "You are."