Chapter 2 - The Wanderer of the Ruins

  Elian Thayer wandered through the ruins with zy steps, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his worn jacket. The crumbling world around him barely seemed to touch him, like he had long made peace with its silence and decay.

  If the world hadn't fallen apart, Elian knew exactly what kind of life he would have lived. Gaming te into the night, tucked away in some messy room, shouting at teammates through a crackling headset, losing himself in endless virtual battles, quests, and victories that didn’t matter outside of the screen. He would’ve stayed up all night, headset on, ughing with friends he'd never meet in person. He would have been ordinary.

  But reality had different pns.

  Now, instead of glowing screens and game controllers, he drifted through broken cities, chasing scraps of forgotten dreams. Nonchant and restless, Elian was a dreamer born in the wrong time. A soul that didn’t quite fit the ruins around him.

  Arcades and abandoned internet cafés became his pygrounds. He didn’t mind the dust or the smell of rusted metal. Wandering through old gaming halls, brushing past shattered monitors and toppled machines, gave him a small spark of joy.

  The arcade had been just another stop. He didn’t expect to find anything or anyone. Yet, when he heard the faint creak of a hidden door being opened, curiosity tugged at him.

  He moved silently toward the sound, and as he stepped into the dim space, he saw her, a girl crouched before an old chest, her hands trembling as she unfolded something that looked suspiciously like a letter.

  "Who are you?" he asked, his voice low and even, cutting through the heavy stillness.

  Silence filled the air.

  The girl before him turned around, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes, wary yet determined, locked onto his. Dust clung to her clothes and hair, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

  Two strangers, standing in the remnants of a forgotten world, unsure whether to see each other as threat or hope.

  Elian kept his distance, his stance casual but his muscles tensed, ready for anything. He had learned long ago that strangers could be dangerous, even ones who looked harmless.

  Lucine clutched something tightly to her chest, a worn letter, though she made no move to show it. He caught a glimpse of it and raised an eyebrow, his voice cutting through the thick air.

  "What’s that you’ve got there?" he asked, his tone light, but his gaze sharp.

  Lucine hesitated. Her grip on the paper tightened, the dust around her boots swirling with her subtle shift.

  "Just junk," she lied ftly, willing her voice not to betray her uncertainty.

  Elian didn’t believe her. He could see it in the way her hands trembled slightly, the way her eyes refused to meet his. But he said nothing, simply giving a small, nonchant shrug, like it didn’t matter.

  For now.

  Elian shifted his weight, casually gncing around the broken arcade.

  "Rex," he said, kicking a loose piece of rubble with his boot. "Not like there's anyone left to steal from anyway."

  Lucine watched him carefully, unsure if she should trust him. He didn’t seem dangerous, just... tired. Like everyone else left wandering the ruins.

  He noticed her hesitation and gave a lopsided grin, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  "I was just looking for some old tech to mess with. Arcade junk, you know? Guess you beat me to it."

  The tension between them thinned, just a little.

  Lucine lowered the letter slightly, but not enough for him to see its contents.

  "You live around here?" she asked, her voice rough from disuse.

  Elian chuckled dryly.

  "Nobody really 'lives' anywhere these days," he said. "Just drifting through whatever's left."

  He paused, then added with a shrug, "Name's Elian, by the way. Elian Thayer."

  Lucine stayed silent for a moment longer before muttering her name under her breath.

  "...Lucine."

  For the first time, there was something almost human between them, a small thread of understanding in the wastend of ash and dust.

  Elian nodded toward the door.

  "It's not safe to hang around here too long. You coming or what?"

  Lucine hesitated, her fingers brushing the old letter.

  If there was any chance of survival, or answers, she couldn’t afford to stay alone forever.

  Without a word, she tucked the letter into her coat and followed him into the fading light.

  They moved through the broken streets in silence, the ruins stretching out endlessly around them. Crumbling buildings leaned against each other like tired old men, and the wind stirred the ash and dust at their feet.

  Elian walked a few steps ahead, hands stuffed casually into his pockets. Every now and then, he gnced back to make sure Lucine was still following.

  Lucine kept her distance, still tense, her eyes darting to every shadow. She didn’t trust him — not yet. But for now, she had no choice but to follow.

  "So," Elian said after a while, his voice breaking the thick silence. "What’s with the letter?"

  Lucine tightened her grip on the folded paper tucked inside her coat. She didn’t answer.

  Elian didn’t press. He just gave a small shrug and kept walking, like he was used to being ignored.

  They rounded a corner, stepping carefully over a fallen streetmp, when a faint noise made them both freeze. Voices — rough, angry — echoed faintly from somewhere deeper in the ruins.

  Lucine instinctively dropped into a crouch, pressing herself against the wall. Elian reacted just as fast, pulling her down beside him without a word.

  They stayed still, hardly breathing, as a small group of scavengers passed by on the other side of the street. Men armed with scrap weapons and desperate eyes, the kind that wouldn't think twice about robbing or killing anyone they found.

  Lucine barely moved, blending into the broken shadows like she had done a hundred times before. She could feel Elian’s gaze flick toward her briefly, a silent note of approval in his eyes.

  When the danger passed, Elian stood and brushed the dust off his jacket.

  "Not bad," he said casually, fshing a small grin.

  "You know how to disappear. That's rare."

  Lucine said nothing. She just got to her feet and kept walking.

  Elian chuckled under his breath and followed.

  As night started to fall, they found shelter in the ruins of an old library. Broken chairs and shattered gss littered the floor, but the pce was quiet and hidden.

  Elian kicked some debris aside and cleared a small spot in the corner.

  "This'll do," he said.

  They didn’t bother with a fire, the glow could attract trouble, but Elian pulled out a small pack of stale crackers from his coat and tossed half toward Lucine.

  "Dinner of champions," he joked.

  Lucine caught it without a word. She sat down a few feet away from him, the letter still hidden safely inside her jacket.

  For a while, they ate in silence.

  "You know," Elian said suddenly, leaning back against the cracked wall, "before everything went to hell, I would’ve been a gamer. Full-time. No question."

  Lucine looked over at him, slightly curious despite herself.

  "Would’ve been king of every leaderboard," he said with a cocky grin. "Probably still living in my mom’s basement though."

  Lucine gave the smallest hint of a smile before she could stop herself.

  "I used to like writing," she said quietly, almost without thinking.

  The words hung between them for a moment, raw and strange.

  She regretted saying anything instantly and looked away, pulling her knees to her chest.

  Elian didn’t comment. He just leaned his head back, staring up at the cracked ceiling like he was counting stars that weren’t there.

  Later, when Elian’s breathing slowed and the ruins around them sank into deep silence, Lucine pulled the letter from her jacket.

  She turned her back slightly to him and re-read the faded words by the faint light from outside.

  There, hidden in one of the lines, was something she hadn’t noticed before. A set of coordinates. Half-faded. Almost invisible unless you looked closely.

  Her heart skipped.

  It wasn’t just a message. It was a map.

  She folded the letter back quickly, but not fast enough.

  "You find something?" Elian asked zily, without even looking at her.

  Lucine stiffened.

  "No," she said too fast.

  Elian smirked without opening his eyes.

  "Yeah. Sure," he muttered. Then, after a pause, added more seriously, "Whatever you’re chasing, you’re gonna need someone who knows the streets."

  Lucine didn’t answer. She wasn’t ready to trust him yet.

  But as she looked out into the dark ruins beyond, she knew he was probably right.

  And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel completely alone.