Ada stood at the threshold of the tunnel exit, her boots sinking into the soot-covered earth. The daylight outside wasn't bright—it was smeared in ash, filtered through clouds too heavy with decay to ever clear. The surface was colder than she remembered, and silent, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Behind her, the reinforced door of Bunker 101 clanged shut, sealing the survivors inside, safe for now. But she couldn't afford to stop. The system had tagged multiple signals in the vicinity—flickers of movement, radiation pings, and one anomaly that kept shifting coordinates like a mirage.
She followed it.
Her HUD pulsed with activity. Resource veins, collapsed infrastructure, heat blooms. Each step brought her closer to the anomaly's last known position: an old military checkpoint half-buried under sand and broken concrete. As she approached, the system whispered:
"Unstable signal. Bio-signs detected. Potential survivor."
Ada's grip tightened on her weapon.
The checkpoint had seen hell. Burned-out trucks, skeletons in uniforms, and walls cratered by blast marks. She advanced slowly, past a gutted vehicle—when something moved.
A flicker.
Then a shadow.
Ada spun, rifle raised—
Only to find herself staring down the barrel of another gun.
It was a woman. Ragged, bloodstained, eyes feral with exhaustion. But her stance was sharp, trained. And behind the grime and dried blood, something burned in her gaze—a strange clarity.
They stood in silence, both poised to kill.
Then the woman spoke.
"You with the bastards who lit up Sector Delta?"
Her voice was rough, but it held command. Not a question, but a challenge.
Ada lowered her gun half an inch. "I don't know what happened in Sector Delta. I woke up yesterday. Bunker 101."
The woman didn't move. "System-bonded?"
Ada gave a slow nod.
The stranger exhaled, lowering her weapon. "Then you're not one of them. Not anymore."
Ada studied her. She had a limp, a makeshift brace on her left leg, and her tactical vest had been patched over with scavenged parts. But she moved like a soldier.
"Name?" Ada asked.
"Call me Vega."
Ada nodded once. "Ada."
They stood a moment longer before Vega jerked her head. "We need to move. This place is a trap."
Ada followed without argument.
They ducked into the ruins, moving through fractured walls and half-collapsed corridors until they found a basement-level safe zone. Inside was a portable generator, a water recycler, and a cot—barely enough for survival.
Vega collapsed onto the cot, unstrapping her rifle and kicking off her boots with a groan.
"You said you just woke up?" she asked, eyes closed.
Ada nodded. "The system called me an S-Class Alpha. Said I'm supposed to rebuild civilization."
Vega chuckled darkly. "Rebuild with what? This?"
Ada looked around at the shattered walls, the leaking pipes, the distant sound of wind through broken beams.
"That's the mission," she said simply.
Vega turned her head. "You believe in it?"
Ada met her gaze. "I believe in getting it done."
For a moment, Vega stared at her, then nodded slowly. "Then you might not die as fast as the last one."
Ada's brow furrowed. "Last what?"
"Last Alpha," Vega muttered. "Didn't even make it a week."
Ada sat down across from her. "You worked with one?"
"Survived near one," Vega corrected. "They come out of the bunkers full of fire and purpose. Systems loaded with tech, hope, weapons. Then they find out the world doesn't care. It eats them anyway."
Ada was silent for a while.
Then she said, "Maybe I'm harder to chew."
Vega gave her a look. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. It was short, but genuine.
Outside, the wind howled.
The system pinged again.
"New signal detected. Encrypted relay. Origin unknown."
Ada stood, moving toward her portable console. The map flared to life, showing a blinking dot north-east.
Vega sat up, wincing. "That's inside the Red Zone. You don't want to go there."
Ada was already packing her gear.
"Looks like we have to."
Vega stared at her for a moment.
Then sighed. "Fine. But I'm not carrying you back."
"Noted."
Together, the two women stepped back into the broken world—one an echo of the past, the other a spark of the future.
They didn't know it yet, but the war for survival had just found its second front.