Chapter 2- Prologue (2)

This was Planet Macipher, an industrial planet under the banner of the Wisdom Star Federation. The Chuzkah civilization, a race of sentient bipeds had achieved a breakthrough in sustainable space travel after decades of tireless research, experimentation, and technological advancements.

For generations, the chuzkah had stared into the void of space, dreaming of what lay beyond their home planet. They poured their resources, intellect, and hopes into the great unknown, launching expeditionary teams to explore the vast expanse of their native galaxy, the Brinut galaxy.

Yet, despite their relentless pursuit, the chuzkah found no other sentient beings to share in their cosmic journey. The universe, vast and empty, offered no companions, no advanced civilizations with which to exchange knowledge or culture. Instead, what they uncovered was something altogether different—riches beyond their wildest imaginations.

Across countless planets, moons, and asteroids, they discovered rare materials, exotic metals, and elements that defied their understanding of science. These resources, scattered across the galaxy like forgotten treasures, became the new obsession of the chuzkah. Each discovery ignited a frenzy of activity, spurring their civilization to advance at an unprecedented pace.

With each new element, new possibilities emerged. Fields once thought to be at the limits of their potential—energy production, computing, and materials science—suddenly experienced explosive growth.

The Chuzkah civilization, once bound by the limits of their home planet, now stood on the cusp of greatness. And then, the day came when their research culminated in one of the most game-changing breakthroughs in their history: the knowledge of how to terraform habitable planets.

This discovery was nothing short of revolutionary. No longer did they have to limit their ambitions to their home planet; with this new technology, entire worlds could be transformed into vibrant ecosystems capable of sustaining their burgeoning society.

The revelation ignited a fevered race among the various factions of the chuzkah. The wealthiest and most powerful scrambled to stake their claims on uncharted planets, eager to turn these barren worlds into their personal paradises.

On Macipher, the fruits of these labors were on full display. The wealthier regions of the planet were a showcase of technological marvels, cities that seemed plucked from the dreams of science fiction writers.

Towering skyscrapers made of gleaming metal and glass dominated the skyline, while giant holographic screens floated in the air, projecting advertisements for the latest gadgets and luxury items.

In the skies above, members of the planetary guard zipped through the air on Evo-Bikes, their sleek vehicles leaving trails of neon light in their wake. These guardians of order and peace maintained a vigilant watch over the cities, ensuring that the wealth and prosperity of the upper echelons remained undisturbed.

Below, citizens dressed in the latest fashion strolled along pristine, terraformed streets. Some of them, those with a penchant for the cutting edge, were equipped with antigrav modules that allowed them to float effortlessly above the ground, a luxury that was as much a status symbol as it was a convenience.

Overhead, swarms of drones buzzed about, performing tasks with machine-like precision. From surveillance to package delivery, these tireless mechanical workers ensured that the city's machinery never missed a beat.

Electric Hovercars, sleek and silent, glided through the air with the grace of birds, their polished surfaces reflecting the vibrant lights of the city. It was a world that thrummed with life, energy, and an unrelenting drive toward progress.

But not everyone on Macipher lived in this shiny utopia. For every glistening tower, for every neon-lit street, there existed a shadow—a stark reminder that even in a society as advanced as the chuzkah's, there were those who had been left behind.

Adelaide, was one such individual. He did not belong to the gleaming world of wealth and power; his reality was the crumbling remains of a tiny, forgotten place known as Moon Shadow Village.

Every society, no matter how advanced, inevitably divides itself into layers, stratifying its people into different social cadres. The technological advancements that had propelled the Chuzkah civilization into the stars had indeed resulted in a giant leap in the quality of life, but not for everyone. There were still those at the lowest rungs of society, people who could barely afford the luxuries that others took for granted.

These individuals, whose income was scarcely enough to sustain even the most basic of needs, found themselves relegated to the margins of society. They could only make use of the most affordable technology that trickled down to them, often outdated, malfunctioning, or simply obsolete. It was no surprise that these common folk mostly resided in the cheapest rental areas available, places like Moon Shadow Village.

Moon Shadow Village was a far cry from the glimmering cities that graced the more affluent regions of Macipher. Situated at a location right next to the largest waste treatment area in the entire city meant the climate in this area was absolutely vile. The city's identity as an industrial city ensured that a humongous amount of waste was produced daily which was dumped at the many waste treatment areas in the city.

Although growth of civilization had skyrocketed due to the ever-increasing level of technology, this transition generated a huge amount of waste. Since most of these waste materials were highly volatile and could cause high amounts of pollution to the environment if not handled well, every city allocated a certain percentage of their budget to effective disposal of these waste.

Hence, the idea of the Waste Treatment Area, or the Graveyard as the residents of Moon Shadow liked to call it, was introduced.

These waste treatment areas were normally supposed to be highly regulated and monitored. Garbage ships collected trash from around the city and discarded them there. While the waste treatment process involved sophisticated machinery and containment measures to minimize environmental impact, the sheer volume of waste sometimes overwhelmed these systems, causing occasional lapses.

Among all the low tier rental areas in the city, Moon Shadow village was the only one situated near a treatment area. As such, of the fifteen low tier residential areas located in Boreas Industrial city, it was the one which had the lowest quality of life.

Actually, it had once been a place of promise, a residential area designed to house the workers who kept the wheels of Macipher's industry turning.

But as the city grew, so too did the divide between the wealthy and the poor. The workers were gradually pushed to the margins, their homes falling into disrepair as resources were funneled towards the development of the city's gleaming heart.

And so, Moon Shadow had become a dumping ground—not just for the city's waste, but for its forgotten people as well.

With the close proximity to the waste treatment area, this place was not just an eyesore; it was a relentless tormentor. Heaps of discarded materials caused and acrid smell that tainted the air and the incessant pollution left an indelible mark on everything in sight.

Even though advanced filtration systems were installed in residences to mitigate the health hazards posed by the pollution, these systems were often old and malfunctioning in the poorer neighborhoods, adding to the residents' woes.

All these problems and more made it so that the rent in this place became dirt cheap. Unfortunately, not many people wanted to live near a treatment area and endure these hard conditions. This was evidenced by the fact that several residential buildings were completely empty as only the truly destitute would choose to rent at this place.

As Adelaide walked down the cracked and uneven street, replaying the adventures of Forger in his mind, his elongated ears suddenly picked up a distant, familiar hum. Looking upwards, he noticed a colossal vehicle passing the smog-choked sky above him and continued towards the waste treatment area.

It's here.

The ship, a behemoth of metal and machinery, carried a substantial load of waste collected from various parts of the city. Upon reaching its destination, it discharged its unpleasant cargo into the gaping maw of the waste treatment area, emitting a deafening roar in the process.

A few moments later, the hatch at the bottom of the ship closed and it departed.

As soon as the garbage ship was out of sight, Adelaide pulled out his worn-out gloves, the fabric frayed and patched and donned them with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before. The he grabbed the rickety floating cart and began pushing it towards the waste treatment area.

He, like many of his peers was a Scalper, a scavenger of sorts, who made his living by scouring the refuse of others for anything of value.

Today, like every other day, he was embarking on a treacherous journey to the waste treatment area, a place where getting anything useful depended on adaptability, resourcefulness and a bit of luck.

With his trusty backpack slung over one shoulder and his goggles firmly strapped on his forehead, Adelaide quickly set out on his well-worn path towards the waste treatment area.

The air was thick with tension, and the streets were filled with restless souls, each driven by desperation. Moon Shadow Village might have been a place of poverty, but within its confines lay the potential for riches, or at least enough to put food on the table.

As he boldly navigated through the crumbling buildings, he came across fellow scalpers who eyed him warily. These were not friendly nods but the calculating glances of competitors. Some carried makeshift weapons, others guarded their carts with fierce determination, and a few looked like they had seen too much of this unforgiving life.

Adelaide swaggered past them with the air of someone who had seen it all. "Morning, sunshine," he greeted a particularly grizzled scalper, who responded with a grunt, acknowledgment of his presence but nothing more.

The residents of this unforgiving neighborhood lived by an unwritten code: "Every man for himself." Here, survival took precedence over camaraderie. The struggle for clean air and clean water had forged a relentless spirit among its denizens, but it had also bred a sense of self-preservation that sometimes bordered on desperation.

However, Adelaide had mastered the art of shameless nonchalance, a skill he had developed as a way to carve out his niche in this cutthroat environment. Rather than succumb to the competitive glares, each step he took exuded a confidence that, while feigned, seemed like an audacious disregard for the silent rivalry that defined their scavenging pursuits.

As he approached the treatment area, a foul stench assaulted his nostrils, a rancid blend of decaying organic matter and acrid industrial waste. He could feel the sticky grime under his worn-out shoes, the ground beneath him slick with a mixture of spilled chemicals and decomposing refuse.

Adelaide tightened the straps on his gloves and adjusted the harness of his floating cart. The cart itself was little more than a hodgepodge of scavenged parts held together with scrap metal and duct tape, but it worked, and that was all that mattered.

His approach towards the main entrance was cautious. The Waste Treatment Area was rife with competition, and the other scalpers were not the only danger. The facility itself was a hazardous environment, with volatile chemicals and malfunctioning machinery posing a constant threat. Many scalpers had met their end here, either from a stray blast of toxic fumes or a deadly fall into one of the processing pits.

Finally, the colossal structures of the waste treatment facility came into view, their towering forms a stark contrast against the sickly sky. The facility was a sprawling complex of massive, interconnected structures, each one dedicated to a different aspect of waste processing.

From a distance, it looked like a mechanical beast, tirelessly devouring the endless stream of garbage that was fed into it day after day. The distant hum of machinery provided a constant, grating backdrop, while the occasional clang of metal and the buzz of circling scavenger drones hinted to all that the competition would be ruthless today.