The grinding of gears faded, being replaced by the hiss of pressurized steam. A harsh red light flickered on inside the narrow steel chamber, illuminating every dent, pipe, and rivet around them. The airlock's walls curved inward, trapping the two in a dim cylinder holding area that was no wider than a freight car.
The chamber began to fill with a chemical mist. Eryndor began coughing as he tried to breathe, taking in the toxic and putrid smell of the gas used. Normally, masks prevented this kind of thing; however, the two were forced to take them off at the entrance.
Eryndor wheezed under the strain, struggling to purify the spray. He looked towards the stranger beside him, who stood there unfazed, standing still and unflinching even as the gas filled the room. Like he had experienced this countless times already.
"I-is this stuff even safe to breathe?" he asked, waving his hand through the haze.
The man crossed his arms, sighing, "It's safe enough," He said in a low tone. "They say it kills parasites, but I think it's just to remind us who owns the air."
Just then, a metallic voice crackled from the speaker above, its volume subtle but still loud enough to convey its message.
"Decontamination sequence—initiated. Biological trace scan in progress."
After that, a beam of white light swept over them from head to toe. Eryndor squinted against it, turning slightly away. "Every time it feels like this thing is trying to make me go blind."
He hated this part—every scavenger did.
"You get used to it." The man muttered.
"Used to what? Getting scanned like a damn animal?"
The beam flashed away after the scan, leading to a sharp click sound, which was followed by a hiss as the small door on the other side of the chamber opened.
"Step forward," A guard yelled. Just up ahead stood two figures in the doorway, clad in white armor with a blue insignia—the emblem of the southern division guard unit. Their masks contained glass visors that made them look more like machines than humans.
Eryndor and the stranger did as told, stepping close to the men.
"Name and sectors," The guard demanded, holding a tablet that flickered with static.
"It's Riven, part of the freelance scavengers, Southern district," he answered calmly.
The second guard's visor flashed with the tablet's bright light as it registered his name. "Riven, huh? Didn't think you would come crawling back through here again."
"Guess I didn't have much choice," Riven said. Shoving his hands in his pockets.
The guard then turned to Eryndor, "And you?"
"It's uh Eryndor, part of the Southern district scavengers."
The guard eyed him up and down. "You're new around here, I can just tell."
Eryndor opened his mouth to answer, but Riven cut in. "He's with me, sorry, he's just a little fidgety from the encounter we had on our way back."
With that, the guards fell quiet for a moment. Then, breaking the silence, the guard looked at Riven again. "Processing room's just up ahead, and you'll find your mask up there too," He said, looking down at the tablet. "And don't cause any trouble while you're here."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Riven replied as the two walked through the gate checkpoint, their boots clanking on the metal floor below as they passed some vents along the walls that released bursts of heated air that stung against some of their exposed skin.
Eryndor glanced at the man. "Do they always typically act like that? Every time I pass through here, they seem irritated."
"Yeah, mostly, they just hate people from the outer district."
"That bad?" Eryndor asked, walking over to the mask that lay in the nearby crate. Riven followed close behind him, reaching his hand out to grip one
The two equip them, adjusting them to fit around their face before turning to face the door.
Riven stopped just short of it, glancing at the flickering red light above before it turned green. "You'll see soon enough. The city'll look clean from here, but it's the same rot— just polished."
"Yeah, I know that much, I live here for crying out loud."
With a short buzz, the doors slid open, letting the two step into the southern sector's city.
The air here was different from the outside, but not in a good way. It felt heavier, tinged with hints of smoke and oil. While over in the near distance rested tall smoke stacks, emitting plumes of gray into the sky. Down on the streets below, people were packed together tightly, shoulder to shoulder with one another as they moved up and down the busy street.
"I assume that was your first time venturing deep into the wasteland?" Riven asked.
"Yeah, and I nearly died because of it," Eryndor replied, adjusting his mask again.
Riven chuckled underneath his mask, "You sure did get lucky, but it was mostly because I was there just at the right time; most rookies don't make it past their first week."
"How do you know I just started?" Eryndor asked, confused, keeping his pace beside him as they walked down the bustling road.
Riven shrugged, the movement barely visible from under his worn coat. "Call it instinct. But that's besides the point. If you go out there by yourself again, who knows what will happen. Just keep your head down and feel the wind to sense danger. Until then, your best bet is with me."
Eryndor looked around the crowded street, bumping into people before recatching up with Riven. "It doesn't feel much different here than out there."
"Difference is," Riven said, "out there the forgelings kill you first or the ash does. As for here, it just takes longer."
The two crossed a line of pipes that steamed slowly above them, passing by the sign that hung reading Commonwealth Core Processing district.
"You know," Eryndor said, "I thought getting back inside the walls would feel… safer."
Riven shook his head, giving a low hum. "Then they got ya, they make it feel that way so you'll stop asking questions about this place and the system."
Eryndor stayed quiet for a while, watching the way Riven moved through the crowd steadily, with purpose, like he'd walked this path a thousand times already.
"So," Eryndor said finally, "How long have you been scavenging for?"
"Gah, too long," Riven replied. "Long enough to see the walls be built higher every year at least." He tilted his head backwards towards Eryndor, "and you? What made you sign up?"
Eryndor hesitated. "Work accident. Or… at least that's what they told me. Next thing I woke up with this arm and a contract tied to my name."
"Is that right…." Riven replied, while glancing at Eryndor, his low voice. "Anyways, we're approaching the exchange station now, but I know a good spot for food around here, you should probably grab a bite before you turn in that ash-core of yours, it'll be worth it before you go out again."
Eryndor glanced at Riven, nodding. "Ok, yeah, I'll take you up on that then."
"Then just follow me, it's just around the corner," Riven said, picking up his pace but only slightly enough to cut in front of Riven in the crowded streets.
The two walk for a while, passing nearby vendors who sell all sorts of items — jewelry, clothing, food — you name it, they have it.
Eryndor and Riven eventually made it to a crossroad, where on one side a crowd began to build up as what sounded like a man was screaming but for sympathy.
"P-please! I-I swear I didn't steal it!" the man pleaded on his knees, all battered and bruised. He looked up at what seemed like a guard cover in that same white-armor and blue insignia that the same gate guards were seen wearing.
"Pfffftttt…. You really believe a low-life like yourselves could ever have such jewelry!?" The guard laughed at the man, shaking his head. "What crazy lie is that?" The guard picked up his weapon, using its stock to strike the man on his cheek, knocking him to the floor.
"Stay there and think about your actions, rat." The guard says, chuckling as he soon began to walk off.
Eryndor looked to Riven, hoping to do something, anything. Riven looked to Eryndor, shaking his head as he began to walk down the other path.
"So, are we just going to act like that never happened?" Eryndor said, looking to Riven with his arms out, but Riven doesn't even bat an eye at him; instead, he continues down the street.
"Things like that happen all the time, there's no point in trying to help because you'll only be caught up in it," Riven said firmly.
"But we have to do something about it, right…? Right?"
"There's nothing we can do about it, so just forget about it all altogether."
I wouldn't want to talk about it any more than I already have.
"It's right here, the shop I was talking about," Riven said, keeping his voice calm, as if he was unbothered by it.
How could he act like that was normal? He's so calm inheated situations, it's concerning…
"Since it's your first time, everything is on me." Riven walked into the shop with that being said.
Eryndor quickly followed behind, looking all over the place. Inside the shop was filled with more steaming pipes, the clanking of metal kitchenware, and the busy chatter of customers.
"This place seems lively at least," Eryndor said, trailing behind Riven as he took a seat.
"Mhmmmm… this place is always packed when I come." Riven signals a waiter, telling him his order while Eryndor passes.
"Not gonna eat? Even after I said it's my treat? You're something else…"
Eryndor puts his mask to the side as well as Riven, the first time they did so in a while.
"I can't be the only one who wants change in the smolder… I mean, there has to be someone else who can agree with that."
Riven looked at Eryndor with a look of curiosity.
"And what if I told you there were?"
"What do you mean t!?"
"Hey, hey, keep your tone down, and yeah, I mean it."
"W-why haven't I ever heard of them before then?" Eryndor says pressing Riven.
"Mostly because they're an underground group; if the guards found out about them, then they would search for them until they were all dead."
"So how do you know about them?"
"You ask too many questions…" Just then, the waiter brought Riven his bowl of food, which looked like a bowl of ramen, really, but Eryndor couldn't get a good look at it.
As soon as the waiter walked away, Riven began to chow down on his meal without a second thought, like a person who hasn't eaten anything for days on end.
"Jeez man you eat like a pig." Eryndor said in disgust.
"You have no idea how good this is—"
While Riven was eating, a pair of guards walked into the establishment, looking around taking multiple glances at the people inside.When the two walked in, the chatter began to die down as the guards stood at the entrance, reminding everyone of their authority over everyone.
Riven set down his bowl, wiping his mouth before looking at Eryndor.