Black Ore

Lyra, Zane's mother, was a diligent woman. In his childhood memories, Zane often awoke at midnight to find her laboring under a lamp, crafting handiwork—those were their livelihood for the next couple of days.

On her days off, or during any spare moments, she kept their shack tidy and clean with an almost stringent standard of hygiene, which she instilled in Zane from a young age.

This was also why Cady had offered her the cleaning job at the Volcano Bar, though the bigger reason was that the retired veteran had taken a liking to Lyra.

If Lyra had been at home these past few days, there is no way the door would have accumulated such a layer of dust. Zane used his key to unlock the door and entered the dim, stuffy shack that clearly hadn't been aired in several days.

Turning on the light, he was met with the sight of overturned chairs and tables, while both bedroom doors stood open. His room was untouched, but Lyra's bedroom was in disarray, with scattered personal items strewn across the floor.

A blanket hung from the bed's edge, allowing Zane to visualize the scene where his mother must have been dragged from her bed while asleep.

What had happened?

Finding no clues in the room, Zane dashed out, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. He hopped on his electromagnetic bike and sped straight for East Street.

East Street in the lower city district was a lawless mix of characters, more chaotic than Zane's neighborhood or the location of the Volcano Bar.

As Zane raced down East Street on his electromagnetic bike, the gazes that followed him from behind doors, alleyway shadows, and various other places fell greedily upon the sleek machine. However, as soon as they noticed the black Nightwalker uniform and the assaulter rifle hanging from his waist, the covetous looks retreated. Living in the lower city district, especially in a place like East Street, taught its denizens to identify real danger, and they well knew that these black-cloaked figures who ventured into the interstellar wasteland were not to be trifled with.

Zane's bike came to a stop in front of an inconspicuous shop, a front for a backroom clinic hidden behind the guise of a convenience store.

The shopkeeper, whose real name had been forgotten, was commonly referred to as "the Cripple" due to his lame leg. Rumor had it that he had once been an upper citizen working as a surgeon in the Bastion's medical center but had offended someone influential. Not only was his status revoked, but he was also beaten and left crippled, banished to the lower city district.

The Cripple managed the store and the small clinic, scavenging medical equipment from junkyards to patch together his operation. His skills as a surgeon were not insignificant, the very reason he was able to establish himself on East Street.

The homeless man had told Zane that Cady was getting treated by the Cripple, prompting Zane to seek him out.

Knocking on the door of the convenience store, a yellow light flickered to life inside, followed by the shadow of a limping figure approaching. "I'm coming, I'm coming, stop knocking. Damn it, you'll break my door and see if I'll treat you when you're sick!"

With a snap, the door swung open, revealing a small, middle-aged man. Bald, bespectacled, with a large nose, he was dressed in a yellowed shirt, the smell of disinfectant wafting from him.

The man squinted up at Zane, "What brings a Nightwalker like you to my humble shop? That uniform of yours, you didn't steal it, did you?"

Zane, annoyed, grabbed the man's collar, "Where's Cady? Is he here?"

"Let go of me, I don't know any Cady!" the Cripple protested. "If you don't let go, I'll start shouting for people!"

The Cripple's position in East Street was not to be underestimated, with numerous grateful patients owing him their lives and many more depending on him for their survival. Should he raise an alarm, there would be no shortage of desperate thugs willing to come to his aid.

Then a voice echoed from the depths of the store, "Zane? Is that you?"

"Cady, you really are here!" Zane pushed past the Cripple and barged in to find Cady lying on a hospital bed in a room full of medical equipment.

Cady was hooked up to an IV, wrapped in bandages with a patch of bloodied gauze on his chest, painting a dismal picture.

Zane was shocked at the extent of the injuries, "Cady, what happened to you..."

Struggling to sit up, Cady's movements only accentuated the bloodstain on his chest. "Never mind me. Get to Black Ore, Lyra... Lyra's been taken!"

"What!"

Zane couldn't believe it. "How could this happen?"

Black Ore was a mine located thirty kilometers outside the Bastion, producing the black metal used to fabricate black steel, the primary material for interstellar wasteland train tracks. As demand for workers at the mine had grown over the decades, initially, they were mostly residents from the lower city district, with relatively generous pay because they had to work outside the Bastion.

However, to cut costs and boost output, the Bastion began using prisoners as labor. The rights of these prisoners were virtually non-existent at the mine; the overseers treated them as less than human, providing only the bare minimum for survival. Many prisoners either died from exhaustion or were killed by the overseers.

If Lyra had been taken to Black Ore, it certainly wasn't as a worker, but as a prisoner!

That was what Zane found incomprehensible.

After getting the news from Cady, Zane rushed out of the convenience store and onto his bike, speeding towards the Bastion's exit.

His mother had been taken to the mine days ago. In such a place, not even a strong man like Cady could endure for long, let alone a woman.

The thought only added urgency to Zane's need for haste. He wished he had wings to fly straight to the mine.

He should have needed proof to exit the city, but Zane wore the Nightwalker uniform, and his identity card confirmed his status as an Ascender.

The two Iron Wall soldiers on duty at the gate saluted him and opened the gates without delay.

Under the vast night sky dotted with stars, Zane pushed his bike to its limits, eyes fixed on the direction of Black Ore.

Half an hour later, the silhouette of the mine appeared below the road. Even at night, the mine was ablaze with lights, with numerous heavy vehicles moving about.

Soon, Zane arrived at the mine's entrance. Searchlights fixed on him, and a guard's voice called out, "Who's there? What do you want at the mine so late?"