Emma led the Seedkeepers through New York's ruins, where skeletal remains of buildings stood like silent witnesses to devastation. The streets, once alive with movement, were now a graveyard of rubble and twisted metal, the air thick with decay. Yet signs of resilience dotted the landscape—makeshift shelters, small gardens, survivors clinging to what remained of their world.
Their path led them to the subway tunnels, now repurposed as Lucas's research outpost. The entrance was guarded by two survivors with makeshift rifles, standing rigid as the Seedkeepers approached. At Lucas's nod, they stepped aside, allowing entry into the underground sanctuary.
Inside, the tunnels had become a laboratory—tables cluttered with salvaged K'tharr tech, fragments of drones pulsing weakly with residual energy, glowing artifacts arranged haphazardly in containment cells. The scent of metal and damp earth filled the air, mixing with the subtle hum of machinery.
Lucas gestured toward a holo-display, activating it with a flick of his wrist. A fractured map of Earth materialized, layered with critical data points. Red zones marked areas corrupted by K'tharr radiation, while blue dots represented the Touched—humans altered by exposure.
"This is what we're dealing with," Lucas said, his voice carrying the weight of hard truths. "Some Touched can manipulate energy. Others…" He exhaled sharply. "They're losing themselves. They're dangerous."
Emma studied the map, her stomach tightening at the sheer scale of the crisis.
"How many?" she asked, already bracing for the answer.
Markus crossed his arms, watching Lucas carefully.
"Hundreds," Lucas admitted, his jaw tightening. "Maybe more. And the factions? They're fighting over K'tharr tech like it's gold. We're barely holding things together."
Chloe stepped forward, arms crossed, her expression sharp. "You said the K'tharr were preparing for something," she prompted. "What exactly?"
Lucas pulled up a fragmented file, its edges flickering with incomplete data. "Terraforming," he stated. "They were restructuring Earth as an outpost."
Aisha frowned, her fingers hovering near her wrist console. "An outpost for what?"
"That's what we're still trying to figure out," Lucas admitted, shaking his head. "But from what we've decoded, they weren't just here to conquer."
Markus narrowed his eyes, his voice low. "They were scared."
The words hung in the air, sharp and unsettling.
Nakamura adjusted his scanner, fine-tuning its readings. "Scared of what?"
Lucas hesitated, then gestured toward another encrypted section of data. "We don't know yet," he admitted. "But it's clear they were running from something."
Emma exchanged a glance with Chloe. The K'tharr were ruthless, relentless—but something had forced them toward Earth.
"We need to know more," Emma said, her voice edged with determination. "If Earth was their refuge, then whatever chased them—"
"—is still out there," Markus finished, his tone grave.
Lucas sighed, rubbing his jaw. "We're stretched thin as it is. The Touched, the factions, the radiation—it's more than we can handle."
Emma met his gaze, unwavering. "That's why we're here. We'll do this together."
Lucas studied her for a moment before nodding. "I hope so. We could use it."
As they walked through the outpost, passing researchers hunched over scavenged devices, Emma noticed a young woman with burn scars working on a drone, her hands precise, controlled.
"That's Mara," Lucas said quietly. "She lost her brother to the Touched."
Emma paused, watching Mara's careful movements. The grief was there—in her posture, in the tight set of her jaw—but so was resolve.
"I'm sorry," Emma said, voice firm but soft. "We'll help her. And everyone else."
Lucas let out a short breath. "You really think you can?"
Emma faced him fully. "We have to."
Outside, the sky churned. The storm grew closer, its violet lightning a silent warning. The WoodDust in Emma's blade pulsed, sensing her unease, its golden glow flickering in the dim light.