Story 1264: Dead City Taxi

They landed hard.

Metal scraped skin. The world spun. Gravity felt... inconsistent.

Juno groaned and opened her eyes. She was inside a vehicle—rusted leather seats, shattered windows, blinking dashboard. The scent of mildew and ash filled the cabin.

Shade sat in the front passenger seat, dazed, blood at his temple.

H-13 was crumpled against the back door, muttering equations under his breath.

And Juno—she was in the back seat of a taxi.

A taxi with no driver.

Outside, the city loomed in shades of gray and amber. Skyscrapers leaned like exhausted corpses. Roads twisted into the distance but never crossed. A thousand street signs pointed to nowhere. The sky was frozen—clouds in mid-swirl, sun a dull white disk stuck between rising and setting.

Then the meter clicked.

FARE: MEMORY / IDENTITY / TIME

Juno snapped upright.

“This isn’t real,” she whispered.