The wind whistled through the skeleton of a collapsed apartment block, carrying dust and the faint chemical smell that never truly left the air.

Nova crouched on the edge of a broken rooftop, carefully stuffing a handful of salvaged batteries into her pack. The cracked lenses of her gas mask reflected the gray sky overhead.

A distant clatter echoed through the ruins.

She froze.

Scavenger? Raider? Breach-touched?

Slowly, she reached for the rusted pipe strapped across her back and peered over the edge.

There.

Movement.

Someone else picking through the dead city.