Chapter 1: The Silver Flash and the Abandoned Dam
The scent of blood mingled with the biting night wind.
Eva Rostova, the Silver Flash, raced across the cracked earth of the wasteland. Her movements were a dance of death.
Scorching plasma bolts streaked through the air, but not a single one grazed her black combat suit.
[System Message: The duration of your unique skill, 'Flow State,' is about to expire.]
[Remaining Mana: 7%]
[Warning: Body fatigue has reached a critical level. High probability of muscle rupture.]
A blinking red warning in the corner of her vision screamed of her desperate situation.
[Flow State], the power of an S-Class 'Blade Dancer,' pushed her senses to their absolute limit, making the world around her move like a slow-motion film. It was a transcendent state that allowed her to read the trajectory of bullets and find the optimal path through dozens of enemies.
But this power devoured her mana and stamina like a ravenous beast.
Damn it…!
Eva bit her dry lip. The empty potion pouch at her waist dangled like a token of her despair. If she'd had just one mana potion, two of her pursuers would be nothing but cold scrap metal by now.
The three-day chase had stripped her of not only her pride as an S-Class Awakened but everything she needed to survive. All that kept her running was a stubborn, primal will to live.
CLANG!
She twisted her body, deflecting an incoming energy bolt with a longsword drawn from her back. The impact sent a shockwave through her entire arm.
But she couldn't stop. Behind her, the gleaming red optical sensors of her pursuers were closing in, relentless.
The elite pursuit squad from 'The Scrapyard.'
They were cyborgs, specialized in hunting humans. Their leader, Havek 'Iron-Eye,' was infamous for never losing his prey.
"It's over, Blade Queen! Hand over the secrets from the 'Red Cradle,' and we'll spare your life!"
A distorted voice boomed from the darkness through a loudspeaker. Disgusting hypocrisy. The horrors of the 'Red Cradle' flashed through Eva's mind.
The face of a boy, screaming as he was thrown into a cage with a starving monster. A brutal slaughterhouse disguised as a facility to induce Awakenings. She had freed the few survivors of that hell and fled. She didn't regret the choice. But the price was steep.
"Ugh…!"
The wound in her side burst open again, a souvenir from the start of the chase. Blood loss made her head spin. The moment [Flow State] deactivated, she would become food for these mechanical hounds.
It was then that she saw it—a massive, artificial silhouette on the horizon.
Outlined by the faint moonlight, it stood like the bones of a giant, blocking the desolate canyon.
A dam.
A relic of the pre-Apocalypse world.
If I can get there. Inside that complex structure, I might have one last chance to shake them.
"This is it."
Eva squeezed out every last drop of her remaining mana. Her silver hair whipped through the air, and her eyes flashed with an icy light.
[Unique skill, 'Flow State,' forcibly activated. All remaining mana will be consumed.]
[Warning: You will enter a state of severe Mana Exhaustion upon skill deactivation.]
Time slowed once more. She pivoted, the movements of the three pursuers rushing toward her crystal clear.
The plasma cannon on the left one's cybernetic arm. The small missile pod on the middle one's shoulder. The vibrating blade brandished by the one on the right.
She saw every weakness—and moved before they could react. Her body became a silver blur, weaving between them.
The first strike severed the power line to the plasma cannon. The second destroyed the targeting sensor on the missile pod. The final slash precisely cut the tendons in the wrist holding the vibrating blade.
"GRAAGH!"
"My sensor—!"
Screams and the grinding of metal echoed in the slowed world. Eva broke through their line and started running again. Furious shouts and indiscriminate gunfire erupted behind her, but she didn't look back.
Finally, the colossal concrete wall of the dam loomed before her.
FWOOSH!
And in that instant, [Flow State] ended. The world snapped back to its normal speed, and a crippling backlash wracked her body. Eva's legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the rough ground. The gash in her side tore wider, hot blood pouring out.
"Found you…!"
The pursuer's voice was right behind her.
Eva desperately forced herself up. She saw a massive steel gate that looked like the dam's entrance. It was open just a crack—a gap barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through.
This is my last chance.
With her last ounce of strength, Eva threw herself into the opening. A cold, damp darkness swallowed her.
From behind, the heavy thud of the massive steel gate swinging shut echoed through the canyon.
In the perfect darkness and silence, Eva finally lost consciousness.
***
Logan lowered his binoculars. Just moments ago, the mana signature of an S-Class Awakened had flared to its limit before vanishing as if it had never been there. He furrowed his brow, drawing a conclusion.
"A last-ditch effort to temporarily disable the pursuit, and then an escape. But with mana exhaustion, she'll collapse within five minutes. Her destination… the only place to hide around here. The Hope Creek Dam."
His voice was dry and practical. The entire situation was already within his calculations. In the wasteland, emotions were a luxury that could only shorten your chances of survival.
He carefully ducked back behind the ridge. The firefight had been about five kilometers away, so there was no need to get involved.
His class was 'Quartermaster.' He wasn't the hero on the battlefield. He was the one who built the battlefield, the one who prepared everything so the heroes could fight.
"But most idiots don't understand that."
Logan muttered bitterly, remembering the final days of Fort Jericho. Under the dictatorship of the S-Class 'Titan,' all resources were funneled to combat classes. Non-combat classes like Logan, and the vast majority of the un-Awakened, were treated no better than slaves.
"It's not swords that stop monsters, it's walls. And those walls are built by everyone, together."
He had warned them time and again, but all he got in return was ridicule.
"Useless and dumb as a rock." That's how he'd earned his nickname, 'Rock.'
In the end, Fort Jericho hadn't fallen to the monsters outside, but to the dissent and starvation rotting it from within.
Logan had been the only one to plan an escape. While everyone was busy fighting monsters, he had quietly siphoned fuel from the emergency generator, secured a water filter, and, most importantly, smuggled out the blueprint datachips.
His calculations had been precise. Fort Jericho fell. He survived.
Now, he needed a new base. Not a fortress built on plunder and tyranny, but one founded on efficiency and systems. A place for true survival.
"Proceeding as planned."
Logan gave the combat zone a wide berth and moved toward his pre-selected objective. His steps were quiet and sure. Twenty years of navigating the wasteland were more accurate than any GPS.
An hour later, he arrived.
"..."
A colossal dam rose before him, blocking the massive canyon. 'Hope Creek.' The overwhelming structure from the pre-Apocalypse era stood firm against the ravages of time.
Logan's eyes lit up. This wasn't just a block of concrete.
It's a perfect defensive structure. A limitless energy source from hydropower, and the potential for agriculture using the water from upstream.
This place was a land of opportunity.
Logan began to scout the perimeter. Just then, his foot hit something. A cold, hard object.
He crouched and picked it up. It was a fragment from a mechanical arm, etched with complex circuitry. It wasn't military-grade; it was crude, yet possessed a unique, proprietary technology.
"A custom arm from The Scrapyard. Pursuers."
His gaze swept the area. A few steps away lay three bodies in combat suits. All had been cut down with clean, precise strikes to their vitals. The work of an expert.
And… a thin trail of blood.
The trail led to the dam's main steel gate. The gate, due to its immense weight, hadn't closed completely, leaving a tiny gap just wide enough for one person to slip through.
Tens of thousands of data points began to converge in his mind.
Situation analysis: One S-Class Awakened (presumed) neutralized three or more pursuers from 'The Scrapyard' before being wounded. Currently taking refuge inside the dam. The injuries are likely severe.
Risk factors: 1. Potential hostility from the wounded individual. 2. Possibility of additional pursuers. 3. Unconfirmed threats inside the dam (e.g., monster nests).
Opportunities: 1. Chance to recruit an S-Class combatant. 2. Acquire fragments of Scrapyard technology. 3. Secure the dam first.
Logan closed his eyes for a moment. The combat fanatics at Fort Jericho had always tried to solve everything alone. They never understood the value of a Support class.
But Logan knew. The sharpest sword could only dominate the battlefield when backed by the best shield and a steady supply line.
"Support changes the fight."
This was a crisis, but it was also the first chance to prove his conviction.
Logan walked toward the massive steel gate. He held no hammer or gun—only a measuring tape and a multi-tool hanging from his worn leather belt.
He peered through the crack. The faint smell of blood drifted out from the pitch-black darkness within. He couldn't know who—or what—was lying inside.
But that didn't matter.
Superimposed over the real-world view of the dam, blue, virtual lines began to appear in his vision.
[System Message: Activating unique skill, 'Master Blueprint.']
The structure of the gate's hinges, the angle of the surrounding terrain, the direction of the wind—the designs for improvised traps and defensive structures in case of emergency—all began to form in his mind at an impossible speed.
He was no longer the useless 'Rock.' He was the only class that could rebuild civilization. He was the Quartermaster.
Logan adjusted his worn leather gloves and murmured softly.
"Alright. Time to start the design."
The first blueprint for a massive fortress. For his own survival, and for the unknown survivor bleeding in the dark.