The fire had burned low, casting dim, flickering light over the ruined building as Joel and Gideon sat in silence. The weight of their earlier conversation lingered in the air, and Gideon finally broke it with a casual tone.


    “How about this,” he began, tapping a finger against his knee. “We take a little scouting trip. You’re not ready to decide? Fine. I’ll show you what we’re up against. Let you see the lizards for yourself. Then you can make up your mind with more information.”


    Joel arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You’re just gonna let me tag along? What’s stopping me from walking away after I’ve seen enough?”


    Gideon grinned, his ears twitching with amusement. “Nothing at all. But I’ve got a feeling you’ll stick around.” His tone was light, almost teasing, but his gaze was sharp. “You seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t shy away from a challenge once he’s seen it with his own eyes.”


    Joel mulled it over, his fingers drumming against his arm. It wasn’t the worst idea. At least he’d get a better sense of what he might be dealing with—and what he might need to avoid.


    “Fine,” Joel said finally, pushing himself to his feet. “But I’m not promising anything.”


    “Wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” Gideon replied smoothly, standing as well. He hefted his sword with practiced ease and strapped it across his back, the weapon seeming almost weightless despite its massive size.


    “Give me a minute,” Joel muttered, stepping away into the shadows of the building.


    “Take your time,” Gideon called after him, his tone light but his ears swivelling to keep tabs on Joel’s movements.


    Joel found a quiet spot outside to relieve himself, the cold air biting at his skin. He exhaled slowly, his breath forming a visible cloud in the dim light. The quiet of the night pressed in around him, broken only by the distant rustle of wind through the trees.


    When he returned, Gideon was waiting, crouched by the fire and adjusting the straps of a small pack slung over his shoulder. “Ready?” he asked, rising smoothly to his feet.


    “Let’s get this over with,” Joel said, motioning for him to lead the way.


    Gideon nodded and gestured for Joel to follow, slipping into the shadows with surprising stealth for someone his size. Joel followed close behind, his footsteps careful on the uneven ground.


    They moved through the ruins like wraiths, weaving between crumbling walls and twisted metal. The remnants of Kitimat sprawled around them, a shattered skeleton of its former self. Buildings stood at unnatural angles, their steel frames exposed like broken ribs, while others had collapsed entirely, leaving piles of rubble that spilled into the fractured streets. Cracks ran jaggedly through the asphalt, some wide enough to swallow a car, exposing a tangled mess of roots and cables that pulsed faintly with an otherworldly glow.


    Gideon led with quiet confidence, his ears twitching to catch the slightest sound, his movements precise and deliberate. Joel marvelled at how easily the rabbit seemed to blend into the shadows, his form slipping between debris as if he were part of the ruins themselves. His fur, a mottled mix of grays and browns, seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it, making his presence more suggestion than reality.


    The roadways were a chaotic mess of upheaval, their surfaces warped as though the earth had bubbled and cracked during the Merge. Chunks of concrete jutted skyward like jagged teeth, and abandoned vehicles were scattered haphazardly, some crushed under fallen structures while others lay overturned, their tires spinning lazily in the occasional gust of wind. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes beneath the roads, adding a faint, sulphurous tang to the air, while puddles of viscous, iridescent liquid pooled in the craters, reflecting the fractured glow of distant fires.


    "Careful here," Gideon murmured, his voice barely audible over the ambient creaks and groans of the city. He gestured to a jagged opening in the ground where a streetlamp had fallen, its bent pole protruding from the abyss like a twisted finger. Joel peered down and shivered; faint whispers seemed to rise from the depths, the air colder near the edge.


    As they navigated the ruins, Joel couldn’t help but notice the way Gideon moved—fluid and precise, every motion purposeful. The firelight had revealed the lean, wiry strength of the rabbit’s frame earlier, but now, in the moonlit shadows, it was even more striking. His muscles coiled and flexed beneath his fur with each deliberate step, a network of taut power honed by a life lived on the edge. His arms, lean but solid, rippled as he pulled himself over a pile of debris, his movements as natural as breathing. Even the way he crouched to listen for distant sounds spoke of a finely tuned balance of strength and agility, a predator’s grace hidden beneath his approachable demeanour. Gideon wasn’t just strong—he was built for survival, every sinew of his body a testament to his ability to thrive in this unforgiving world.


    A notification flashed on Joel’s HUD and he took a moment to read it.


    <hr>


    Personal System Notification:


    Skill Unlocked: Quiet Movement


    By observing a master teacher at work, you have unlocked a personal skill for your Mechanical Core.


    Skill Level: Beginner


    Description: You have taken your first steps toward the Silent Movement path. Your movements now generate less noise, increasing your ability to avoid detection.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Note: Further practice and experience will refine this skill and unlock advanced techniques.


    <hr>


    Joel smiled, it was nice to be improving. The rabbit wasn’t a liar about being able to teach him a few things.


    They passed what had once been a strip mall, now reduced to a skeletal framework barely recognizable beneath the layers of creeping vines and fungal growths that glowed faintly in the dark. Broken glass crunched underfoot as Joel stepped carefully over a shattered display case, its contents—rusted tools, long-expired cans of food, and scattered batteries—strewn across the floor.


    Oddities from the Merge littered their path. A lamppost fused seamlessly into the trunk of a massive tree that shouldn’t have been there, its branches swaying unnaturally as if alive. An overturned bus lay across the road, its windows dark, save for a faint, eerie light pulsing within. Joel caught glimpses of shifting shapes behind the glass but forced himself to look away, his gut instinct warning him not to linger.


    "Keep moving," Gideon said, his tone sharper now, his ears flicking in annoyance. "The Merge left its mark, but not all of it’s just scenery."


    They ducked beneath a precariously leaning office building, its once-pristine facade now streaked with soot and claw marks that gouged deep into the concrete. An unsettling silence hung over the structure, broken only by the occasional drip of water from a busted pipe or the distant sound of metal scraping against metal. Joel’s boots skidded slightly on a patch of oily residue coating the floor, and he steadied himself against the cold wall.


    "Almost there," Gideon whispered, motioning for Joel to follow as he slipped through a narrow gap between two crushed cars. The smell of burnt rubber and charred metal was overwhelming, mingling with a faint, coppery tang that Joel tried not to think about.


    The city seemed alive in its destruction, a warped blend of the familiar and the alien. Faint, melodic chimes echoed from somewhere far off, though there was no wind to carry them. Shadows moved at the edge of Joel’s vision, but when he turned, there was nothing—only the jagged shapes of the ruined city.


    "Never seen anything like this," Joel muttered under his breath, his voice almost swallowed by the oppressive stillness. “The climate crisis had destroyed stuff, sure, but nothing like this or as fast.”


    Gideon glanced back at him, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You will. The Merge didn’t just break the world; it stitched pieces together in ways we still don’t understand. Trust me, Kitimat’s nothing compared to some places I’ve seen."


    Joel nodded silently, his gaze drifting to a distant tower that loomed over the wreckage, its top warped and fused with what looked like an enormous, coiling serpent made of stone. He tightened his grip on his weapon and pressed forward, the weight of the city’s chaos pressing heavily on his shoulders.


    After what felt like an hour, Gideon held up a hand, signalling Joel to stop. They crouched behind a pile of debris, and Gideon motioned for Joel to look through a narrow gap.


    “There,” Gideon whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackle of distant torches and the faint hum of machinery.


    Joel leaned forward, pressing his weight against the cool, jagged edge of a broken wall. The scent of oil and rust clung to the air, mingling with the acrid tang of smoke wafting from the camp ahead. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the scene, his breath catching at the sight before him.


    The lizard clan’s camp stretched across the remains of what had once been a grocery store parking lot. Its flat expanse transformed into a chaotic maze of makeshift structures. Scrap metal and canvas formed crude shelters while towering spires of riveted pipes hissed and released bursts of steam at irregular intervals. Crude torches lined the perimeter, their sputtering flames casting long, shifting shadows that danced across the cracked pavement. The light made the lizards'' scaly bodies gleam like polished armour, their movements fluid and unnervingly precise.


    Joel''s stomach tightened. They were larger than he had imagined, their physiques rippling with corded muscle beneath scaly hides. Their claws clicked faintly against the ground as they moved with predatory grace, each step deliberate. Some carried weapons cobbled together from metal scraps—wicked-looking clubs with jagged edges, serrated spears that glinted in the firelight, and long blades that looked as though they had been wrenched from industrial tools. But even unarmed, their sharp teeth and hooked claws looked more than capable of rending flesh.


    “See the one by the central fire?” Gideon murmured, his voice low but steady. He pointed subtly, his finger barely breaking the cover of their hiding spot.


    Joel followed his gesture, his gaze locking onto the largest of the lizards near the camp’s heart. The creature stood beside a roaring bonfire, its dark, almost black scales gleaming with a faint iridescent sheen. Steam hissed softly from the joints of gilded bracers encasing its forearms, the gears embedded within them ticking faintly as the lizard flexed its claws. A massive, steam-powered club rested casually across its shoulder, vents along the haft releasing rhythmic puffs of vapour that curled lazily into the night air.


    The leader barked a guttural command, its voice grating and metallic, carrying over the ambient noise of the camp. Joel flinched slightly at the sound, the raw aggression in the tone prickling at his nerves. Around the fire, smaller lizards scrambled to obey, hauling crates of salvaged parts or hurrying to adjust the strange, cobbled-together machines scattered throughout the camp.


    Joel’s nose wrinkled as a sharp, chemical tang reached him—oil and grease mixed with the sour stench of reptilian bodies. The air seemed charged, humming faintly with the activity of whirring gears and sputtering contraptions. Joel’s gaze drifted to one such device near the center of the camp, a towering mechanism of rusted cogs and spinning belts. Sparks flew as two lizards tinkered with it, their claws deftly tightening bolts and adjusting valves. The machine belched a puff of black smoke, causing one of the lizards to hiss and back away, but they quickly resumed their work.


    Joel swallowed hard, his throat dry. The scene felt surreal, almost theatrical—a twisted blend of primal savagery and mechanical ingenuity.


    “They’re not just brutes,” Gideon murmured, his voice a measured calm that belied the tension in his posture. “They’ve got brains, too. A knack for tech. And the one at the fire…” He tilted his head toward the leader. “That’s Karnak. Their big boss. He’s the reason they’re organized. Without him, they’re just hungry predators. With him? They’re a force.”


    Joel didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he kept watching, his senses on high alert. The sounds of the camp—the clang of metal, the low hiss of steam, the occasional bark of a lizard’s command—mixed with the distant chirp of crickets and the faint rustle of wind through broken walls.


    “What’s your call, human?” Gideon whispered, his tone soft but edged with challenge.


    Joel stayed silent, his focus glued to the camp below. His pulse quickened, the enormity of the situation pressing heavily on his shoulders. Whatever he decided, this wasn’t going to be easy.


    “Steampunk lizards?” Joel muttered under his breath, his disbelief cutting through his tension.