The road had ended.
The ground beneath them was cracked, dry—like a hardened shell. As the sun sank westward, the sky turned shades of violet.
But the horizon didn’t shimr from heat.
It pulsed—with electricity.
Fade took a few steps forward.What rose before him... wasn’t a wall.It was a boundary.
Nearly fifty ters above, a translucent do bent and warped the air. But this wasn’t an ordinary barrier field.
Sparks danced across its surface—white and blue veins flashing like a living nervous system.
At tis, a ripple shimred and vanished, like sothing breathing.The do was alive.
Kaela approached slowly from behind, lifting her data device.
The screen flickered with static for a mont before stabilizing.
"Energy levels are off the charts... but erratic. They’re using organic code."
"Organic code?" Zeyna asked.
Kaela nodded. "Yeah. It ans... the system responds like sothing alive. A living security protocol."
Fade reached out his hand.
The mbrane stood just centiters away, humming faintly.
He didn’t touch it—but he could feel it. The energy coiled through the air like tension on skin.
What burned in his eyes wasn’t just curiosity.
"This city," he said, "it feels alive. And it might reject us."
Darin grumbled, "After all this damn walking, if soone says the gates are closed..."
Fade shook his head. "Quiet. Everything echoes here."
At that mont, the sky pulsed again.
A bird approaching the do shifted its course before coming too close—like even proximity demanded permission.
Zeyna stepped forward. "Fade... you think we can get through?"
He didn’t answer.
His eyes closed as he listened—not with his ears, but with sothing deeper.
The do’s vibration filled the space between his fingertips and thought.
And then... sothing stirred.
It wasn’t the system.
But sothing else. Sothing... waiting.
Fade’s hand hovered in stillness.
Then—click—a sound echoed like tal locking into place.Followed by a voice:
"Step back."
Fade turned.
A pulse of pale light flickered from inside the do.Two figures erged—first as silhouettes behind the barrier, then stepping through an opening that slowly parted from within.
City sentries.
But they weren’t majestic.
Each stood nearly two ters tall, carrying heavy spears.
Their armor looked formidable at a glance—gleaming plates, draped pauldrons, visored helms.
But up close, the cracks showed.
Rust lined the joints. The tal groaned with movent.
What stood out most... were their eyes.
Underneath their visors, optic lenses glowed with a dim green hue.Not alive. But aware.
"State your identity," one of them said.
His voice was deep—but tired.
Kaela stepped forward. "We’re from the outer zones. Following a broadcast signal. We’re requesting temporary access."
One of the guards tilted his head.
The other stared at Fade—long and hard, as if trying to place him.
"You’re unregistered," he said. "This city isn’t open to unlisted individuals."
"We have injured," Zeyna argued. "And the signal led us here. That’s not coincidence."
The first guard struck his spear to the ground.A low pulse vibrated across the do’s surface.
"Administration has suspended all new entries," he said.
"The Fringe is full. No remaining quota for Wasteside arrivals."
Arven stepped forward, voice tight with anger.
"Quota? We’re human. We need help."
The second guard bowed his head slightly.
"Humanity is a quota now. If you have no value... you have no place."
Fade stepped forward, silent.
"Then tell ," he said, voice calm.
"Is there a way to prove our value?"
The guards exchanged a glance.
One pulled a scanning device from his shield and pointed it at Fade.
A brief flicker. The scanner blinked—and spat static.
[Biotric Analysis: Compatible... but unrestricted. Undefined paraters detected.]
The first guard stepped back.Tension rippled across their posture.
"There’s... sothing moving inside you," he said. "The system can’t categorize it."
Fade didn’t move.
His eyes were fixed on the spark-laced void within the do.
"You don’t want to see it," he said softly.
A long pause followed.
Finally, the second guard spoke again:
"We can’t authorize entry. But we can redirect you to the Fringe camp. Apply for clearance from there."
Kaela nodded. "That’ll do."
The guard extended a hand, opening a temporary interface.A seam appeared in the do—electric threads parting like the opening of a wound.
"Be aware," the first guard warned."Every step inside will be monitored. This is no longer the old world."
Fade said nothing.
He simply walked.
The others followed in silence.
Zeyna stopped just before the gateway closed.She turned to the guard.
"And what about those who have no value?" she asked."Where do they go?"
The guard face toward the desert. "Nowhere."
The gate closed behind them.
What remained outside was dust and forgetfulness. But inside... echoed a different kind of silence.
The mont Fade stepped forward, even the texture of the ground changed. It was no longer soft. A thin, blackish mud coated the earth—swallowing footprints instantly, but never erasing them entirely.
Arven muttered behind him, "This isn’t a city. It’s a shell."
The Fringe sector may have been part of the city, but it felt like limbo—half in, half out.Bent steel shacks. Tarps piled atop one another like makeshift roofs. The air—dense and stagnant. As if sothing had burned... and then frozen in place.
Zeyna wrinkled her nose. "I don’t even know how to describe this sll."
Kaela raised her wrist scanner. It kept flickering. "There’s too much interference here. All signals are overlapping. Just... noise."
Fade said nothing. But he was watching everything.
There were people—but they were... incomplete.No light in their eyes.Children played with tin cans twisted into the shape of toys, but none of them smiled.Won stirred pots under roofless shelters; n gathered around campfires, staring into nothing.
They were all... waiting.
Arven turned away after a young boy stared at him with vacant eyes. "Ti doesn’t even move here..."
Zeyna made eye contact with an old man passing by. He didn’t speak, but his gaze scread, "Turn back." "They don’t want us here," she muttered. "This place... it’s their swamp."
Kaela pointed at a rusted display screen nearby:
Fringe Entry – Temporary Settlent Zone #12
A voice called from behind. A young woman—hair matted, hands caked with dried mud."You’re new?" she asked. "Out-of-quota?"
Kaela nodded. The woman smiled—but it was bitter. "Then you’ll be held here, too. You wait. Maybe hope cos. Maybe hunger. Or maybe... soone buys you."
Zeyna narrowed her eyes. "Buys what?"
The woman only laughed. "Anything."
Fade stepped toward her. "How do we contact the Core?"
The woman tilted her head back, staring at the towers in the distance. "First, this place has to swallow you. Then maybe... they’ll hear."
"Who are ’they’?"
She lowered her gaze. "The rich. The system. The city. It’s all the sa now."
Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet.
As the pale light of morning filtered across the distant horizon, Fade and his team approached the twisting outer layers of the city.
The point they approach,
Fringe Gate-07
But there was no gate. No walls. Just warped tal sheets extending skyward like jagged fingers. To the side, a crooked sign dangled loosely
Sentry Post – Minor Entry Zone
Two guards stood waiting.Their armor glead from a distance, but as they drew closer, the illusion crumbled—rust creeping along their joints, shields cracked, spear tips dull and bent.
One of them squinted and stepped forward. He held a tal rod—likely a biotric scanner, though it now clicked like a broken lighter.
"Stop. Entry credentials?"
Kaela stepped up. "New entry request. We seek redirection to the registry station."
The other guard snorted. "Newcors, huh. Where’d you co from? No scans. No clearance. No paperwork."
Darin rolled his eyes. "Paperwork?"
Zeyna muttered, "In a dystopia with a giant electric do... they’re asking for paperwork."
The first guard straightened his posture. "This is Last Hope. Entry isn’t universal. You get evaluated first."
"Evaluated?" Fade’s voice was cold.
"Skill test. Security check. Sotis... a fight."
The tone carried weight, as if he was trying to sound dangerous more than actually being it.
Arven chuckled quietly. "And you’re the ones doing the evaluating?"
The guards stiffened.
Kaela, as usual, sought data. She tapped her device, but a system firewall blocked her access. "No direct connection granted. Registry-linked terminals only."
Fade assessed the scene.
This wasn’t a show of power—it was a delusion of authority.
"We don’t need tests. Just direction," he said flatly. "We won’t waste ti."
The second guard stepped forward. "If you won’t follow orders, turn back. This place isn’t for you."
Zeyna exhaled sharply. "I’ve heard that line too many tis..."
That was when Fade’s gaze shifted.Not at everyone—only at the guards.
He stepped forward. Just one step.
And in that single step... the ground trembled.
Arven subtly shifted back. Kaela took a shallow breath. Zeyna turned her head slightly.
The guards didn’t kneel.But they tensed.In that mont, they understood. These people were different.
Fade stopped. "Open the gate. And keep quiet."
The guards—moved by so primal instinct—backed away. A narrow opening hissed open from a chanical panel. A passage leading to the registry chamber...
The first guard turned his head. "Forms are inside... and you’ll be scanned."
Darin smirked. "Perfect. As long as we don’t have to punch bureaucracy, we’re ready."
The group moved forward.
Kaela lingered for just a second. She turned to the guard and said quietly,
"If you had pushed that ’test’... it wouldn’t have been us who failed. It would’ve been the city."
Then she walked away.
Her eyes ahead.
But her words... remained in the air like a warning.
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