Adrian frowned. "Machines? As in—engines?"
"Engines, gears, shells of vehicles. Like a graveyard of a civilization that never existed here."
Adrian stopped walking. His mind whirred. Could this world have absorbed fragments of Earth's technology somehow? Or are we bringing it with us when we reincarnate?
Kaela noticed his silence. "You're thinking the same thing I did," she said. "That maybe we weren't accidents. Maybe someone wanted builders here."
They reached the first ridge by sunset. Below, the Iron Hills spread wide—a series of cracked slopes glowing faintly red under the dying sun. Smoke curled from chimneys tucked into the cliffsides.
Kaela pointed. "That's our camp. We call it Redhaven. Safe for now."
As they descended, guards appeared—men and women in patched armor, carrying spears tipped with salvaged metal. Their leader, a tall man with burn scars across his arms, greeted Kaela with a grin.
"You made it back alive," he said. "And with company."
"Name's Adrian," she said, gesturing toward him. "The Builder from the east. He's the one I told you about."
The man's expression shifted to cautious interest. "Then you're the one who fought off the Dominion with walls and fire. Word travels fast."
Adrian gave a small nod. "You lead here?"
"Name's Rurik. I keep things from falling apart. You want to build, you'll fit right in."