Chapter 7: Rusted Reluctance

The clinic lights buzzed like dying insects, their sickly yellow glow pooling in the hollows of Lucent's collarbone as he sat rigid on the examination table. The air tasted of iodine and something older, something metallic that clung to the back of the throat—the scent of a place where people came to be put back together, not healed. Not really.

Rena's mechanical fingers moved with methodical precision, the steel joints whirring softly as she cleaned the gash along Lucent's ribs. The antiseptic burned cold where it touched raw flesh, the pain sharp enough to make his breath hitch despite himself. He focused on the water stains spreading across the ceiling tiles instead, their edges blurred like old memories.

"Three years," Rena said, her voice as toneless as the hum of the autoclave in the corner. She dropped a bloodied swab into a steel tray with a wet plink. "You vanish like smoke. Then you drag your sorry ass back here with an outsider in tow." The forceps in her hand glinted as she turned them over, inspecting the edges. "Got a death wish or just nostalgic for my bedside manner?"

Lucent kept his gaze on the ceiling. The cracks in the plaster branched like lightning, like glyphwork gone wrong. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" he asked, ignoring the question.

The silence stretched just long enough to be pointed before Rena reached for the suture thread. The spool rattled as she pulled it free, the nylon gleaming pale as bone under the lights.

"The Red Dogs faction controls the west stacks now," she said, threading the needle with practiced ease. "Glow prices tripled after Myriad raided the synth-labs by the old tunnels. The number of people in Sector 12 started decreasing fast last winter—no one knows why." The needle bit into Lucent's skin, pulling the wound shut stitch by careful stitch. "Your sister's plot in the scrapfields is still standing. No one's touched it."

Lucent's fingers twitched against the table's edge. The metal was cold under his palms, the surface pitted with decades of use. He could feel the old anger rising in his chest, thick and choking as the Junkyard smog.

"Don't," he said, the word rough as rusted metal.

Rena didn't flinch. The needle kept moving, in and out, in and out, the thread pulling tight each time. "Wasn't offering comfort," she said flatly. "Just facts."

Across the room, Kai shifted on his makeshift bed, the thin mattress crackling under his weight. The kid's eyes darted between them, wide and uncertain, his stitched lip pulling tight when he frowned. His fingers worried at the edge of his ruined jacket, the fabric still smeared with Junkyard grime.

Lucent exhaled through his nose. "We're staying the night," he said. "Just until we figure out our next move."

The needle paused mid-stitch. Rena's augmetic eye whirred as it focused on him, the lens clicking softly. "This isn't your house, Argyr."

"Didn't ask."

The forceps clattered against the tray as Rena dropped them. For a moment, Lucent thought she might throw him out then and there—he'd seen her do it before, to people who owed her more than they could pay. But she just wiped her hands on a rag streaked with old blood and turned toward the cabinets lining the far wall.

"A day," she said, her voice like a blade dragged across stone. "Not a second later. And if you bleed on my sheets, I'm taking it out of the kid's hide."

Lucent nodded. "Fair."

The clinic settled around them, the quiet punctuated by the distant groan of the Junkyard outside—metal shifting, pipes rattling, the ever-present hum of the Aethernet's distant pulse bleeding through the cracks in the world.

Kai's voice was barely audible over the noise. "She your friend or something?"

Lucent didn't answer. The needle's bite still throbbed in his side, each pulse a reminder of debts unpaid and promises broken.

Rena had never been his friend.

But in the Junkyard, that didn't mean what it did anywhere else.

Lucent shifted on the makeshift bed, the stitches in his side pulling tight with the movement. The clinic's air hung thick with the scent of antiseptic and old blood, the dim glow of the clinic's lights casting long shadows across Kai's face.

The kid sat hunched on the opposite of the bed, his fingers picking at the frayed edge of his ruined jacket, his gaze darting to the clinic's door every few seconds like he expected Nex's crew to come crashing through at any moment.

Lucent studied him for a long moment before speaking.

"So," he said, his voice rough. "What's your plan?"

Kai blinked, his fingers stilling. "What?"

"Your plan," Lucent repeated, slower this time. "You think you can just walk back into your Spire life after this? Pretend none of this happened?"

Kai's throat worked as he swallowed. "I—I just need to get back to the Aurora District. My father's connections—"

"Won't save you," Lucent cut in. "Not now. Not after what you pulled from that Nimbrix server."

The kid's face paled further, if that was possible. The single light above them flickered, casting distorted shadows across his features.

"You don't understand," Kai said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "My father is—"

"Irrelevant," Lucent snapped. "You think the corporates care who your daddy is? You touched Eclipse. You saw the glyph. That makes you a liability."

Kai's breath hitched, his fingers tightening around the edge of his cot. "Eclipse?" The word came out too loud in the quiet clinic, bouncing off the sterile steel surfaces. His brow furrowed, that familiar Spire-bred arrogance warring with dawning realization. "They just called it experimental glyphware in the files. I thought—"

"You didn't think," Lucent interrupted, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried more threat than a shout. "That's the problem." He jabbed a finger at Kai's chest, stopping just short of touching him. "There are things in this world that don't care about your father's connections or your credit balance. Eclipse is one of them."

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Kai's mouth opened and closed like a fish pulled from water, his usual quick retorts dying before they reached his lips. For the first time since they'd met, Lucent saw genuine fear in the kid's eyes—not just the surface-level panic of being in over his head, but the deeper, colder terror of someone realizing they've stepped into a game where the rules were written in blood long before they arrived.

Rena's tools clinked together in their tray as she worked, the sound sharp and deliberate, a reminder they weren't alone. The clinic's lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across Kai's face as the truth settled into his bones.

"What... what exactly did I find?" Kai asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucent leaned back, the ghost of his nightmare still clinging to him like smoke. "The kind of thing people disappear over," he said quietly. "The kind of thing that makes corporate's private army burn entire city blocks and call it an electrical fire."

Outside, something metal crashed in the distance, the sound echoing through the Junkyard's skeletal remains. Neither of them flinched. The real danger wasn't out there—it was sitting right here in this room, in the knowledge Kai had unwittingly carried with him from that Nimbrix server.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and dry.

Kai's fingers clenched into fists, the knuckles whitening. "Then what am I supposed to do?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "I can't just—I don't know how to survive out here!"

Lucent exhaled through his nose, the ache in his ribs flaring. "You don't," he agreed flatly. "But you don't have a choice anymore."

The silence stretched, thick with the weight of what went unspoken.

Kai looked down at his hands, at the dirt crusted under his nails, the fine tremors running through them. The reality of his situation was settling in, slow and inevitable. There was no going back. No pretending.

The corporates didn't forgive.

And they didn't forget.

"So what now?" Kai asked, his voice barely audible.

Lucent leaned back against the clinic's peeling wall, the plaster cool against his skin. "Now," he said, "you learn."

Outside, the Junkyard groaned, its metal bones shifting in the dark. Somewhere in the distance, a mag-lev train screamed on rusted tracks.

Dawn was coming.

Lucent exhaled slowly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like a physical thing. The adrenaline from the fight had long since faded, leaving behind only the dull, persistent ache of his injuries and the bone-deep weariness of too many sleepless nights. The makeshift bed beneath him was thin and lumpy, the mattress barely more than a sheet of worn fabric over metal springs, but at that moment, it felt like the most luxurious bed in Neo-Tokyo.

He glanced at Kai, who still sat rigid on the opposite makeshift bed, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. The kid's face was pale, his eyes darting nervously around the clinic as if expecting an ambush at any second. Lucent almost felt sorry for him—almost. But pity was a luxury neither of them could afford.

"Think about what I said," Lucent muttered, his voice rough with fatigue. "But think quietly. I'm done talking."

He didn't wait for a response. Turning onto his side—careful to avoid putting pressure on his stitched ribs—he closed his eyes and let the darkness pull him under. The clinic's ambient hum, the distant drip of water from a leaking pipe, the faint, Rena's feet as she moved about the room—all of it faded into the background, replaced by the heavy silence of sleep.

But even as he drifted off, a part of him remained alert, coiled tight like a spring. The Junkyard didn't grant peaceful rest, and dawn would come sooner than either of them wanted.

When it did, they'd need to be ready.

Because the corporates weren't the only ones who didn't forgive.

***

The nightmare clung to Lucent like the Junkyard's smog, thick and choking. For several heartbeats after waking, he remained perfectly still, his fingers digging into the thin mattress of the cot, the rough fabric bunching beneath his grip. The clinic's air was cool against his sweat-slicked skin, but it did nothing to dispel the phantom heat of that memory - the burning stench of raw Aether, the wet crunch of reality fracturing like glass under pressure.

Kai shifted on the opposite bed, his breathing uneven with interrupted sleep. "You... alright?" The kid's voice was groggy, but there was an edge to it now that hadn't been there before - the first fragile cracks in his naivety.

Lucent didn't answer. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes until colors burst behind his lids, trying to erase the afterimage of his sister's collapsing form. It never worked. The memory had etched itself into his bones three years ago, and like all the best wounds, it refused to heal clean.

The dream always started the same way, one of the last good moments before everything went to shit. That quiet suburban street with its artificially maintained cherry blossom trees, the way the rain made neon signs bleed color onto the pavement. His sister's hopeful voice as she pointed to the Aetherion spires, her fingers still stained with engine grease from her part time job. They'd been saving credits for three years at that point, dreaming of the day they could afford Conduit training licenses. A way out. A way up.

Then the glitch in reality.

The way her words stretched like like a rubber band until it finally snaps.

The wrongness that crept in at the edges of his vision, subtle at first - a streetlight flickering out of rhythm, a puddle reflecting something that wasn't there. By the time he realized what was happening, it was already too late. The void didn't so much consume his sister as unravel her, piece by piece, like a line of code deleting itself from existence. And young, stupid Lucent had reached for the only thing he thought could stop it - raw, unfiltered Aether.

The explosion had taken out half the block.

His sister had still been gone.

A metallic click echoed through the clinic as Rena adjusted something in her equipment cabinet. Lucent didn't need to look to know she was watching him - that augmented eye of hers missed nothing. He could feel the weight of her gaze like a physical touch, the unspoken question hanging between them.

He ignored it.

Instead, he focused on the dull ache of his stitches, the way his ribs protested each breath. Physical pain was simple. Manageable. Unlike the memory currently crawling through his veins like poisoned code.

Outside, the Junkyard groaned its endless mechanical lament. Somewhere in the distance, metal screeched against metal - maybe scavengers working through the night, maybe just the bones of this place settling deeper into its own decay. The sound was almost comforting in its familiarity.

Kai's body surrendered to exhaustion before his mind could, his breathing evening out into shallow, even rhythm. His stitched lip twitching with whatever nightmares plagued in his mind. Lucent envied him that much at least - the kid still had the capacity to be shocked by this world.

Reaching into his pocket, Lucent pulled out his Conduit, turning it over in his hands. The cracked screen reflected his face back at him in cracked fragments - the dark circles under his eyes, the fresh scar along his cheekbone from, the permanent tension in his jaw. Three years since the incident, and he still looked like a man waiting for a miracle to drop.

He knew better than most that some doors, once opened, could never be closed again.

The Eclipse glyph in Kai's files proved that much.

Sliding the Conduit back into his pocket, Lucent leaned his head against the clinic's cold metal wall and watched the first gray light of dawn creep through the high, grime-coated windows.

Morning would come whether they were ready or not.

And with it, all the consequences he'd been running from.

***

Lucent reached across the narrow space between the beds and shook Kai's shoulder—hard. The kid jolted awake with a gasp, his body tensing like a live wire, eyes wild and unfocused in the dim light of the clinic. For a moment, he simply stared at Lucent, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts, his pupils dilated so wide they swallowed the irises whole. Then, like a crashing wave, the memories of the previous day rushed back in—the Nimbrix warehouse, the Black Unit, Nex's steel talons raking across his face—and the fear in his eyes sharpened into something more visceral.

"It wasn't a dream?" Kai croaked, his voice rough with sleep and lingering terror. His fingers instinctively went to his stitched lip, probing the wound as if to confirm its reality.

"Unfortunately," Lucent muttered, pushing himself up from the cot. His ribs protested the movement, the fresh stitches pulling tight, but he ignored the pain. Dawn had come and gone while he'd been lost in thought, the clinic's high windows now glowing with the sickly yellow light of a Junkyard morning.

Kai sat up slowly, wincing as his muscles protested. His once-pristine clothes were stiff with dried blood and grime, his jacket torn at the shoulder where Nex had grabbed him. He looked down at himself, his expression twisting into something between disgust and disbelief. "I... I can't go back like this," he murmured, more to himself than to Lucent.

Lucent didn't bother responding. He'd already made it clear—there was no going back. Not for either of them.

Rena emerged from the back room. She took one look at Kai's disheveled state and snorted. "Bathroom's down the hall," she said, jerking her chin toward a rusted door. "Don't clog the drain."

Kai opened his mouth—probably to protest—but Lucent cut him off with a sharp look. The kid swallowed whatever complaint had been forming and stumbled to his feet, his movements stiff and uncoordinated. He paused at the bathroom door, casting one last uncertain glance back at Lucent before disappearing inside.

The sound of running water echoed through the clinic, followed by a muffled curse—probably Kai realizing there was no hot water.

Rena crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on Lucent. "You're really dragging him into this?"

Lucent didn't answer. He didn't need to.

They both knew the truth.

Kai was already in deeper than he realized.

And there was no getting out.

Kai emerged from the bathroom looking marginally more human, though his clothes were still a lost cause. His face was damp, water dripping from his hairline down to his collar, and the angry red line of stitches stood out starkly against his pale skin. He'd tried to clean the blood from his jacket, but the fabric was permanently stained, the dark smears now faded to rust-brown.

Lucent pushed off the wall where he'd been waiting. "Let's go," he said, heading for the clinic's door without checking if Kai followed.

"Go where?" Kai hurried after him, his steps still stiff with lingering pain.

"Food."

The morning air outside was thick with the Junkyard's usual cocktail of burning rubber and chemical runoff. Overhead, the sky was a sickly gray, the light filtered through layers of smog and the ever-present shimmer of distant Aethernet nodes. The narrow alley outside the clinic was already bustling with early-morning scavengers and black-market dealers, their voices overlapping in a constant hum of negotiations and threats.

Lucent moved through the crowd with the ease of long familiarity, his shoulders angled to slip through gaps without brushing against anyone. Kai wasn't so lucky—he flinched every time someone passed too close, his hands twitching toward pockets that had long since been emptied of anything valuable.

"Keep up," Lucent said without turning around. "And don't stare. You look like a mark."

Kai quickened his pace, his polished shoes slipping on a patch of something slick and iridescent. "Where are we—"

"Here." Lucent stopped in front of a stall wedged between two gutted mag-lev cars. The metal counter was streaked with decades of grease, the surface barely visible under piles of wrapped protein bricks and steaming cups of synthetic broth. The vendor didn't look up from the portable glyph-compiler she was tinkering with.

Lucent tossed a credit chip onto the counter. It was one of the last they had, the balance dangerously low. "Two."

The woman pocketed the chip without checking the amount and shoved two protein bricks in their direction. The wrappers were faded, the printing on them so worn it was impossible to tell what flavor they were supposed to be. Not that it mattered—everything tasted like salted cardboard anyway.

Kai picked his up gingerly, turning it over in his hands. "This is... food?"

Lucent unwrapped his in one practiced motion and took a bite. The texture was gritty, the aftertaste faintly metallic. "Eat. You'll need it."

Kai peeled back the wrapper with considerably more hesitation. His first bite was tentative, his expression cycling through disbelief, disgust, and finally resignation as he chewed. "This is the worst," he muttered.

"Welcome to the real world." Lucent finished his brick in three more bites and crumpled the wrapper. "Now move. We've got work to do."

Kai swallowed the last of his meal with visible effort. "What kind of work?"

Lucent didn't answer. He was already walking away, his boots kicking up puffs of metallic dust from the Junkyard floor.

Behind him, Kai hesitated for only a second before following.

The kid was learning.

Slowly.

But he was learning.