Kai had more questions than answers after speaking with Alexander. The voice that had crackled through the Divide's oppressive silence had left behind more mysteries than clarity, each word gnawing at the edges of his mind. Especially on the subject of Mortifex's past—his predecessors. The weight of those who had come before him hung heavy on his thoughts, their deeds and failures shrouded in the same storm that seemed to envelop this fractured land.
The overpass ahead loomed, jagged and precarious, its cracked concrete a reminder of a world torn apart. Kai ascended the steep incline with careful steps, the muted crunch of his boots echoing in the quiet. From the elevated vantage point, he scanned the terrain below, his sharp eyes catching movement amid the rubble.
Marked men.
They moved with a purpose, their crude banners fluttering in the wind, the symbols etched into their flesh a testament to their fractured allegiance. Kai's hand tightened on his rifle. These weren't soldiers—they were scavengers, remnants of something once organized but now broken, just like the land they roamed.
Kai raised his weapon, the scope finding its mark. The first man strode confidently, unaware of the silent predator above. Kai exhaled slowly, steadying himself, and squeezed the trigger. The crack of the rifle echoed through the Divide, sharp and unforgiving. The man crumpled instantly, a lifeless heap on the ground.
The others reacted immediately, diving for cover behind the remnants of a rusted vehicle. Kai didn't move, his position concealed and commanding. Through the scope, he watched for any sign of movement, the faintest shift that would betray his target. The seconds stretched into a taut silence, the tension a coiled spring.
Then it came a head, just barely peeking out from behind cover, the man's cautious head scanning the overpass.
Kai fired.
The shot was precise, a clean hit. The man's body slumped backward, the grim silence returning once more.
Kai approached the camp cautiously, his rifle still in hand, his eyes scanning every shadow and corner for hidden threats. The scene was a stark contrast to the desolate overpass supplies were scattered haphazardly around, a rare sight in the Divide's harsh emptiness. The remnants of a fire smoldered within the hollowed shell of a tire, its thick, acrid smoke curling upward into the stagnant air. As he stepped closer, the fumes clawed at his lungs, forcing a shallow cough from his throat. He quickly pulled a cloth from his pack, covering his mouth and nose to filter out the worst of it.
The men he had dispatched lay sprawled nearby, their masks still intact, grotesque symbols painted over the fabric. Kai crouched down, inspecting the masks briefly. Iraqi soldiers. The markings on their gear confirmed it—remnants of a conflict long forgotten by most, but still alive here in the Divide. They had adapted, like everyone else, but their presence here raised more questions than answers.
His gaze shifted to the centerpiece of the camp: an old military truck, its paint peeling, the metal corroded in places from years of neglect. It served as a makeshift storage unit, with the back filled to the brim with crates. The contents were a mix of the essential and the archaic—ammo crates, ration tins, and weathered supplies scattered about. Despite the chaos, there was a sense of purpose in how the truck had been repurposed, its interior an organized mess of survival.
Kai's attention was drawn to a massive crate in the center of the camp, its surface marred by scratches and dents. The drone, ever vigilant, whirred to life and darted toward it. It hovered over the crate, its small shock mechanism sparking as it worked on the lock. With a metallic click, the lid popped open, and the contents spilled out onto the ground—rounds of ammunition, their casings dull from age, clattering noisily against the dirt.
Kai approached, giving the pile a cursory glance. Old. Heavy. Useless for what he needed. He stepped back, disinterested, while the drone emitted a series of beeps, almost as if it were urging him to reconsider. He ignored it, his focus shifting to a smaller compartment within the crate.
Satchel charges.
Kai's eyes lingered on the explosives for a moment. Practical, versatile, and dangerous. He grabbed a few, tucking them into his pack. They might come in handy later.
The camp's atmosphere weighed heavily on him as he scanned the area one last time. The fire's fumes continued to sting his senses, and the scattered supplies hinted at a desperate existence. These men hadn't just been here to survive they had been stockpiling, preparing. For what, Kai couldn't say, but it left an uneasy feeling in his gut.
Kai continued along the overpass, his boots crunching softly over the cracked asphalt and scattered rubble. The remains of the road stretched before him, fractured and uneven, littered with shards of glass and rusted metal. The faint outline of streetlights lined the middle of the path, their poles bent and corroded, leaning like weary sentinels that had long since given up their duty. A few still clung to their fixtures, shattered bulbs hanging precariously by exposed wires that swayed gently in the wind.
To his right loomed a massive structure, circular in design, its once-pristine foundation now an unstable mess of exposed rebar and crumbling concrete. The building seemed to defy gravity, parts of its outer shell collapsing inward while its core teetered on the edge of complete failure. Kai's eyes lingered on it for a moment, noting how the decay mirrored the Divide itself—straining against inevitable collapse yet somehow still standing.
Ahead of him, the true obstacle revealed itself. A colossal skyscraper had fallen across the road, its towering height reduced to an angular monstrosity of twisted steel and shattered glass. The upper half of the structure had crashed onto a neighboring building, creating a precarious bridge that spanned the chasm between them. Jagged debris spilled across the overpass, the road partially swallowed beneath the weight of broken concrete and office furniture strewn haphazardly among the wreckage.
Kai's sharp eyes caught movement outside the crumbling circular building to his right. Figures shifted in the shadows, their presence betrayed by the subtle crunch of loose debris underfoot. Marked men. The distinct shape of their masked faces and the ragged insignias on their uniforms confirmed it. Kai moved with practiced precision, his rifle coming up to his shoulder in one fluid motion.
The first shot rang out, a sharp crack that echoed through the desolation. One of the men crumpled instantly, the force of the round snapping him back against the rubble. The others scrambled for cover, shouting orders in a language Kai barely registered.
He moved forward, maintaining his composure as his quirk guided his aim. A second figure peeked out from behind a broken pillar. Another shot, and the man collapsed into the dust, his weapon clattering to the ground.
Before Kai could reposition, a sharp crack split the air. Pain blossomed in his chest as the impact forced him back a step. His armor absorbed the brunt of the shot, the Kevlar plates beneath his suit flexing under the force. The dull ache was a reminder of how close it had been. His teeth clenched, and he exhaled sharply, focusing his mind.
He scanned the horizon quickly, his quirk honing in on the direction of the shot. Above, amidst the shattered remains of the skyscraper, he spotted the faint glint of a rifle barrel protruding from a jagged window. Kai dropped to one knee, stabilizing his aim. The rifle bucked against his shoulder as he fired, the round piercing the air with lethal precision.
A muffled cry followed by the unmistakable sound of a body striking steel and concrete resounded through the stillness. Kai watched as the marked man tumbled from the wreckage, his lifeless form hitting the road below with a heavy thud. Dust plumed around the corpse, a grim punctuation mark to the encounter.
Kai pressed on, his footsteps measured as the wind howled through the wreckage around him. To his right, a rusted blue truck sagged under the weight of time. Its faded paint was peeling, and its rear bed held several battered suitcases, their latches broken, spilling long-forgotten contents onto the cracked asphalt. The truck creaked in the wind, its suspension groaning with each gust, as though protesting its slow decay.
Ahead, the building where the marked men had taken shelter loomed ominously, its silhouette jagged against the sky. Near its entrance, Kai's gaze fell on the warped frame of a blown-out bus. Its windows were shattered, the seats inside discolored with rust and grime. A pair of skeletal remains slumped over one another in the front row, their bony fingers entwined as if sharing one final moment before oblivion. The sight was unsettling but not uncommon in the Divide—a land where death clung to everything.
Kai's attention shifted to a familiar mark painted on a nearby wall. The white symbol stood out starkly against the grimy concrete, leading toward the building's base. It pointed, almost insistently, to a ruined section of scaffolding. The metal beams were twisted and weathered, but the structure appeared stable enough to climb.
Testing its sturdiness with a firm tug, Kai began his ascent. The climb was precarious; the scaffolding groaned under his weight, but it held. He reached a shattered window, its jagged edges still faintly reflecting the muted light of the Divide's overcast sky. Carefully, he maneuvered through the opening, his boots crunching against scattered glass as he landed inside.
The building's interior was a labyrinth of destruction. Concrete rubble formed steep inclines where floors had collapsed, and rusted rebar jutted out like skeletal remains of the structure itself. Kai climbed over a mound of rubble, each step deliberate, his balance unwavering. As he reached the top, he leaped across a gap where a section of the floor had completely given way, landing with precision on the other side.
Here, the remnants of a makeshift camp came into view. Kai approached the makeshift campsite cautiously. The fire pit, long extinguished, was surrounded by scattered debris—bent nails, shards of glass, and remnants of ration packaging. A fake log, cracked and weathered, rested next to the pit, its plastic surface worn down by the harsh conditions of the Divide. Something about it seemed out of place.
He crouched, brushing away the sand that had accumulated on its surface. A label was etched into the faux bark, faint but legible: "LOG Y-17.16."
Kai turned the log over in his hands, finding a compartment cleverly concealed within its hollow center. Sliding it open, he retrieved a cassette tape, its label matching the log's identifier. It was old but intact. Kai's gaze flicked to the cassette player he carried, its worn exterior a relic of bygone eras but still functional.
He inserted the tape, pressing the play button. The faint whir of spinning tape filled the air before Alexander's voice emerged, crackling and low.
"Big Crater…there's something hidden there, a city, past wind and sand…so deep in the desert there's no turning back. Finding the crater was an accident. Was following the weather patterns…"
Kai's grip on the player tightened as he listened, Alexander's voice taking on an almost hypnotic rhythm, the weight of its words sinking into the oppressive silence around him.
"The Divide's sky torn like that, man's violence, not nature's. That violence in the sky, had a source. Tracked it. Like following a river current. Left the colors to mark my way, like always, in case someone finds them, learns the pattern… Mortifex might."
Kai's eyes flickered to the white mark painted near the campsite—a familiar symbol that had guided him this far. He glanced at the drone hovering nearby, its faint hum a constant presence. Alexander's breadcrumbs, scattered through the Divide, leading him like a hunter tracking prey.
"When I thought sand and wind would never end… came to the crater. And there… was an Old World facility, a weather station, at the edge, still raking the sky with electricity and generators."
Kai's breath slowed as he imagined the scene, the fractured world of the Old World reaching out through storms and sand. He could almost hear the hum of the generators, the crackle of unnatural lightning splitting the air.
"And beyond it… saw the rest of Old World hell there, all carved up like garden plots. Had to see what was there, couldn't leave it be. Things sleep in the crater, the Sons of Ahura woke them up… can't move quiet, any more than the Sword can. And when they woke up, it was like all of history waking up at once."
The words sent a chill down Kai's spine. He stood, glancing at the horizon. The Divide stretched endlessly before him, a vast, unyielding testament to the world's destruction. He had seen the remnants of history buried in its sands, and now Alexander's voice spoke of horrors lying dormant, only to be stirred by the careless hands of men.
"Almost didn't make it out. Almost. Left with answers I never intended."
The recording ended with a sharp click, leaving only the sound of the wind and the faint hum of the drone. Kai pocketed the cassette, his thoughts racing.
The crater. An Old World facility. A weather station tampering with the skies. The Sons of Ahura and their meddling. Kai's mind pieced together fragments of the puzzle, but each answer only seemed to yield more questions.