The Geiger counter on her wrist clicked twice—then went dead.
Ada stopped in her tracks, one booted foot sinking slightly into the damp ash. Her breathing slowed. Around her, the ruins of what had once been a highway rest stop stretched into skeletal silence, the road itself cracked open like a wound in the earth.
Nothing on the surface should still be emitting radiation. Not here.
She crouched, ran her gloved fingers through the cracked soil, and waited. A low hum vibrated through her spine. The system chimed in her neural link:
[Warning: Unidentified signal detected. Directional source: South-Southeast. Proximity: 1.2km.]
Ada's pupils narrowed.
She tapped her earpiece. "Recon mode. Filter noise. Priority scan—human tech signature."
A pause.
Then:
[Confirmed. Signal origin: Underground Bunker 101. Status: Previously decommissioned. Current status: Reinitialized.]
Ada exhaled slowly. Bunker 101. She knew that name. It had gone dark over a decade ago, buried under debris and military silence. No one had dared reopen it.
She rose to her full height, slinging her rifle across her back. Her boots crunched over broken gravel as she advanced. The world here was gray and lifeless—dead vehicles melted into the asphalt, skeletal trees clawing at the sky. Her breath fogged faintly against her mask. The sky was a flat, uncaring white.
It took twenty minutes to reach the buried hatch, hidden beneath what used to be a collapsed overpass. The door was cracked open—recently forced, from the outside in.
Ada drew her blade.
No use announcing herself with gunfire, not yet.
Inside, the walls were stained with mold, flickering lights barely illuminating the corridor. The bunker smelled of dust and oil and something sour—like desperation left to rot. Her HUD flickered to life as her system synced with the local interface.
[Accessing Bunker 101 Logs...]
Population: 0
Life Support: In Recovery
Communications: Severed
Power Supply: Unstable
AI Core: Fragmented
Security Clearance: Granted - Level 2 (Override Detected)]
Override?
That wasn't her doing.
Footsteps echoed ahead—light, erratic. Someone else was already here.
She moved fast and silent, taking corners with the instinct of a soldier trained in urban warfare. A hallway veered into an abandoned operations room. Terminals flickered. Scattered paper and ration packets suggested recent scavenging.
On the far side of the room, someone coughed.
Ada raised her blade—but what she saw made her freeze.
A child. No older than four, curled up beside an ancient server rack, face gaunt with dehydration, but eyes still open. The child blinked at her, unsure whether to run or cry.
She sheathed the blade and stepped forward.
"It's okay," she said, kneeling. "You're safe now."
The child didn't respond, just stared. Somewhere deeper in the bunker, a dull alarm began to pulse.
[System Alert: Non-human entity approaching. Designation unknown. Proximity: 200m.]
Ada stood, blade back in hand.
Not a good time to babysit.
She spun toward the exit—but before she could move, a faint clatter echoed from the direction of the mechanical bay. Not from the creature approaching.
Someone else was moving in the dark.
She ducked behind a rusted bulkhead, scanning the hallway.
Footsteps—light, controlled. Not a mutant's staggering. Not a drone's mechanical thump. Human. But trained.
Then she saw her.
A silhouette emerged from the shadows—tall, lean, wearing a tactical vest scorched at the edges. Long, dark hair tied back in a quick knot. Blood-stained bandages around one shoulder. In her hand: a handmade crossbow, held steady, aimed directly at Ada.
They both froze.
Neither spoke. Neither moved.
This woman wasn't part of the survivors Ada had picked up on the system scan. Her stance was too balanced. Breathing too calm. Her eyes... sharp. Calculating.
Ada spoke first. "You're not one of them."
The woman's voice was low, husky. "Didn't say I was."
"Who are you?"
"You can call me Vega," she said, unmoved. "I'm looking for a system hub. Heard this place booted up again."
Ada didn't lower her weapon. Her system scanned the woman silently.
[Subject analysis: Physiology compatible with altered environment. Mental stability: High. Threat level: Unknown. Recommendation: Class-S priority.]
[Note: Not a typical survivor.]
Silence.
Then the system added something else:
[Suggestion: Recruit. She is not ordinary.]
Ada finally stepped back, just an inch.
Still wary. But no longer hostile.
"Welcome to the ruins," she said coolly. "If you're staying, don't get in my way."
Vega's mouth twitched, just a hint. Amused, maybe. Or unimpressed.
"What if I help instead?" she said. "Not every apocalypse starts with someone offering a welcome."
Then she tossed something through the air—a compact energy cell, slightly dented but still pulsing with blue light.
Ada caught it one-handed. The system pinged immediately:
[High-yield core detected. Construction speed boost: +30%.]
She looked back at the woman more closely now.
Not an enemy.
Not simple either.
And then, a new message appeared on her HUD:
[Binding Task Activated]
[Side Objective: Trust and Collaboration (Incomplete)]
[New Member Detected... Syncing Identity Data...]
Ada asked, "You planning to stay?"
Vega nodded. "Looks like you could use another pair of hands."
Ada breathed in once, long and slow. The wind outside howled through cracked vents.
"Then keep up."
She turned and walked into the darkness without looking back.
Behind her, Vega followed, silent, sure-footed.
Far above them, a broken satellite spun once in the sky.
And in a hidden corner of the bunker, an old surveillance camera blinked to life. One new node had entered the grid.
The foundations of survival had begun—with two women no one had expected to still be standing.