The sun had barely begun to rise when the Phoenix Rig slowed to a halt in front of what remained of a convenience store. The structure was crooked, leaning like a dying animal, with part of the front collapsed inward. The sign was barely legible: "DayFresh Mart – Convenience for All."
Yue Fei was the first to step out, eyes sharp as ever. "Glass is broken, but the front door's still intact."
Lu Zhen narrowed his eyes behind his HUD. "No footprints in the dust. If anything's in there, it's been sleeping for a while."
Lin Xia climbed down quietly, her hand tightening on her knife. "Let's hope it stays that way."
They approached slowly, weapons ready. The glass underfoot crunched with every step, and the air grew heavier as they entered the store. Lu's system picked up no hostile signals, but he kept his shotgun leveled just in case.
Inside, the air was thick—stale with the scent of mold, scorched plastic, and something faintly sweet that had long decayed. Lu's boots pressed into layers of dust and crumbled wrappers. Price tags curled off the shelves like old skin, and the tiles beneath were cracked like a dried riverbed.
Overhead, sunlight streamed through a broken skylight, casting golden rays onto the aisles. The dust floated in slow spirals, making the ruined store momentarily look like a sacred ruin instead of a broken corner mart.
"It makes everything look gold," Lin murmured, her voice soft.Yue didn't even glance up. "Too bad gold can't be eaten."
They split up to search. Yue moved swiftly down the canned goods aisle, blade drawn. Lin drifted toward the back, checking collapsed snack racks and toppled drink refrigerators. Lu scanned the shelves methodically, ignoring anything swollen or leaking.
He crouched near a broken noodle shelf, brushing aside packaging and finding three cans of preserved beef still sealed.
"Three here," he called out.
Yue's voice came from the back. "Two more on my side. Plus a few soy bars, expired but sealed."
Lin poked her head out from behind a splintered endcap. "Energy bars here too. Eight packs. All look intact."
Lu nodded. "We're taking them all."
As he turned, something caught his eye dangling from a bent hook near the cashier counter. A small, dirty keychain—once brightly colored—shaped like a cartoon fox, now faded and dusty. He took it gently, turning it over in his hand.
Lin appeared beside him. "That's from a kid's show… I used to have one just like it."
Lu handed it to her without a word. She hesitated, then pocketed it carefully.
Not everything had to be useful. Some things were just… reminders.
Behind the register, Lu checked a medicine cabinet. He opened it with slow fingers—and frowned. It was entirely empty. Not even scraps of packaging.
"Someone got here before us," he muttered.
Yue looked over his shoulder. "Or maybe this place was their last stop."
They regrouped near the broken freezer, where a strange sound scratched from behind the unit. Lu raised his shotgun, Yue her blade. But what emerged wasn't large—it was a rat. Or what was once a rat.
Its fur had fallen in patches. Its eyes were milky white, and its movement jerky. It didn't attack—just dragged itself across the tiles, then slumped dead beside a snack wrapper.
"…Even small things are changing," Lin whispered.
"They weren't built for this world," Yue replied. "Neither were we. But we're learning."
They pressed onward to the back of the store. There, Lu found something else. Hidden beneath a stack of fallen drink cartons near the staff-only area, a bundle of papers wrapped in clear plastic. Most of it was smudged ink—but one page remained legible.
A printed evacuation map. Civilian markings. Emergency shelter routes. Notes scribbled along the edges in pencil.
"It's a route map," Lu said quietly.
Yue took a look and nodded. "Worth holding onto."
They moved quickly after that. As they prepared to exit through the side door, Yue froze.
"Something's breathing."
Behind a collapsed display shelf, an infected stirred—a former employee, still in its uniform, now emaciated and snarling. It lunged toward Lin, who ducked instinctively.
Yue moved fast, her blade slashing cleanly through its neck before Lu could even raise his shotgun.
"Handled," she said, not even out of breath.
Lin steadied herself. "I… I think I'm getting better at not freezing."
"Good," Yue said. "You'll last longer that way."
They stepped out into the street again, the silence outside now heavier somehow. The breeze was still. Dust floated like ash.
Lin looked around, then whispered, "Why does it feel… quieter after we find food?"
Lu didn't look at her. "Because hunger can be fixed. But silence like this?"
Yue answered for him. "That stays."
They walked back toward the Phoenix Rig in that same silence.
Before climbing aboard, Lin lingered beside a shattered vending machine. She stared at a plastic bottle still sealed inside.
Lu looked back. "Want me to shoot the glass?"
She smirked faintly. "Not worth the bullet."
They climbed into the rig and laid out their findings: five cans, eight energy bars, a bottle of water, and the crumpled evacuation map.
Yue stored the food, organizing by expiration. Lu slotted the map into his pouch, then checked the Vault.
[Vault: 9.91 m³ / 10.00 m³ – Near Limit]
He sorted out smaller parts from the last salvage, shifting things around for space.
Later, as they sat against the inner wall eating cold canned beef, Yue spoke without looking up.
"I miss warm rice."
Lin replied with a small laugh. "I miss microwave popcorn."
Lu took a bite and chewed slowly. "…I miss silence that wasn't dangerous."
They finished eating without another word.
Outside, the world remained still. But inside the rig, just for a moment, there was something like peace.