Severed Link

Thalia bolted the reinforced latch into the frame of her rented door, shutting out the murmurs of the settlement corridor. She set her pack on the low bench, unstrapped her chest harness, and poured a cup of fresh water from the jug into a metal basin. Splashing the cold liquid over her skin, she scrubbed away the yellow dust and grease clinging to her collar. The grit washed down the drain in dark swirls, leaving her skin raw against the cool air of the room. She dried her face with the hem of an undershirt, sank onto the thin mattress of the narrow cot, and raised her left wrist to check the small interface screen.

After paying for the night’s lodging, the hot meal, and the clean water refills, the digital counter displayed a single digit: two points.

She stared at the number, exhaling a low breath through her teeth. Two points would not buy a synthetic ration bar tomorrow, let alone fresh filters for her respirator. Still, she owned every scrap in her pack, and no one in this room could demand a cut of her earnings.

Before she could lean back against the thin pillow, the band around her wrist vibrated with sharp, rhythmic pulses. A red light flashed across the display, accompanied by a harsh chime indicating an urgent domestic transmission. The caller tag blinked steadily with her mother’s name.

Thalia watched the light pulse three times. She dragged her thumb across the glass, accepting the feed.

A miniature holographic projection flickered to life in the dim space above her cot, displaying Lydia’s face. The woman’s features were twisted in fury, her mouth drawn tight, her eyes wide as she leaned toward the lens on the other end.

"Where the hell are you hiding?" Lydia’s voice crackled through the speaker, shrill enough to grate against the metal walls. "Why didn't you come back on the evening transport? I spent two hours waiting by the transit platform in the district, asking every carrier if they had seen you!"

Thalia rested her hands in her lap, her voice level. "I am out in the wilderness camps. I have no reason to return to the district tonight."

"In the camps?" Lydia gasped, the projection shaking as she gripped her terminal. "You always return to the inner wall before the gates seal! You know how dangerous the perimeter roads are after dark! What are you doing out there?"

"The transit fare costs four points each way, and the commute wastes half the morning," Thalia replied, keeping her tone flat. "I found work here. I am not returning to the apartment anymore."

The screen went silent for two beats before Lydia let out a high, ragged gasp. "Not returning? What do you mean you are not coming back? Have you lost your mind? What are we supposed to do here?"

"You can manage your own household," Thalia said.

"Manage on our own?" Lydia’s voice rose to a screech that distorted the small audio node. "Cassia and Jared start their semester at the academy in ten days! Their tuition fees have not been settled, the dormitory deposit is due on Friday, and the pantry is half empty! You think you can walk away while your family is starving?"

"Their tuition is your responsibility, not mine," Thalia said, her eyes fixed on the flickering blue light. "I am not their mother. I have work to do tomorrow. Do not call this frequency again."

She tapped the red icon before Lydia could screech another curse. The projection snapped out of existence, plunging the room back into silence. Without pausing, Thalia navigated to the contact settings, selected the account registry, and blocked Lydia’s number. She added Cassia’s link to the blacklist as well, then set her device to silent before closing her eyes.

* * *

Back in the crowded third-tier apartment within Ironwood Base, Lydia threw her ceramic tea mug across the kitchen. The mug shattered against the concrete wall, spraying cold dregs and broken shards across the floor.

"That ungrateful little wretch!" Lydia screamed, clutching her chest as her face turned mottled red. "A heartless viper! I kept a roof over her head, fed her scraps from my own plate for years, and now she turns her back the moment she earns a handful of credits!"

Cassia stood by the counter, her slender fingers tightening around her own datapad. Her polished nails dug into the rubber casing. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Unlike her mother, she cared nothing about domestic respect or daily food rations. Her concern lay entirely with the private agreement she had negotiated two nights ago in the neon-lit backrooms of the lower sector.

A broker from the Nightbloom Club had made the terms clear. Deliver a healthy, young woman possessing an awakened Harvesting Ability, and they would hand over an authentic ability awakening serum from the inner laboratories. If Thalia vanished into the deep wilderness and severed ties, that serum was lost.

Cassia tapped her screen, typing out a message with rapid strokes: *Mom collapsed on the floor because of the things you said. She needs medical treatment. Jared and I will find other ways to pay for school, just come home and help her.*

She hit the transmit key.

A harsh red exclamation mark flashed on the screen, accompanied by an error prompt: *Message delivery failed. Recipient has restricted incoming traffic from this terminal.*

"She blocked me," Cassia muttered, her voice dropping into a venomous hiss. She snatched Lydia’s terminal off the low table, rapidly typing the same message, and hit send.

Another red exclamation mark blinked in reply.

"She blocked your comm line too," Cassia said, turning toward her mother with widened eyes.

"What?" Lydia snatched the unit back, repeatedly pressing the call button. The screen only returned the same dull tone of a severed connection. "How dare she! That little mongrel! I should have drowned her in the cleansing vat the day she was born!"

A sudden dread swept across Lydia’s expression. She scrambled over to the domestic banking console set into the hallway wall, rapidly keying in her master credentials to access the shared household reserve. For three years, Thalia’s earnings had been funneled straight into that account, accessible under the legal parental guardianship protocol.

Lydia slapped her palm onto the scanner, expecting the balance to load.

Instead, a red banner flashed across the monitor: *Access Denied. Account link severed by primary holder. Parental authorization revoked per Section 4 of the Frontier Labor Code.*

Lydia staggered back, her knees hitting the edge of the wooden bench. "It's gone. She cut the link. My brother at the credit union said someone filed the paperwork days ago, but I didn't believe her own blood could be so cunning."

Tears of helpless rage spilled down Lydia’s cheeks as she sank onto the floor, pulling at the hem of her faded cardigan. "How are we going to survive? Jared needs new training gear. Cassia needs tuition. If she cuts us off, we will be pushed out into the refugee shelters within three months!"

Cassia stared down at her mother’s weeping figure. The panic in her chest settled into a cold, practical resolve. The golden goose had kicked the cage open, but out on the wasteland, iron bars were easy to replace.

She leaned down, placing a hand on Lydia’s trembling shoulder. "Mom, stop crying. Crying won't put food on our table or pay Jared's tuition."

Lydia wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, looking up with reddened eyes. "What else can we do? We don't even know where she is sleeping tonight!"

"Since she wants to treat us like strangers, why should we care about her future?" Cassia lowered her voice, leaning closer until her lips were inches from Lydia’s ear. "I have contacts down in the entertainment district. The Nightbloom Club pays top bounty for young women with clean utility abilities. If we deliver Thalia to them, they will give us a hundred thousand points."

The actual price promised by the club was two hundred thousand points, plus the awakening potion. Cassia had no intention of sharing the surplus with anyone, not even her mother.

Lydia’s breath hitched, her eyes going round with shock. "A hundred thousand? For one person? What kind of work would they make her do for that kind of money?"

"Does it matter?" Cassia sneered, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "They aren't going to execute her. She will live in clean rooms, eat real food, and serve wealthy clients from the high sectors. We take the hundred thousand, pay off the academy fees, and you can live comfortably in the upper residential blocks for the rest of your life."

Lydia hesitated, a faint tremor passing through her jaw. "But... what if she fights back? What if she causes a scene at the club? If she damages property or assaults a patron, the syndicate will come looking for us to pay damages."

"Do you think the syndicates are running a charity home?" Cassia scoffed. "Once she steps through those iron gates, she will have a shock collar around her neck. If she fights, they use shock batons. If she refuses to cooperate, they keep her in an isolation cell until her spirit breaks. Her skin isn't tougher than steel rods."

Lydia stared at the cracked tiles, remembering the rumors she had heard in her own youth. She knew well enough how those underground establishments operated. Those who entered rarely walked out under their own power.

"She chose this," Lydia whispered, her voice hardening as the lingering guilt vanished beneath greed. "She brought this on herself by abandoning her own flesh and blood. But how do we find her? The wasteland is vast, and she won't answer our calls."

Cassia’s lips curved into a sharp smile. "Give me two thousand points now. I will go to the mercenary guild and hire two trackers to bring her back from the camps."

Lydia immediately recoiled, pulling her purse close to her chest. "Two thousand? Are you insane? That is half our remaining emergency reserve! Why don't we take the morning transport and find her ourselves?"

"Do you know which outpost she went to?" Cassia snapped, her patience fraying. "There are twelve gathering posts along the northern river alone. If you go out there without weapons, the wild packs will tear you apart before you reach the front gates. Mercenaries know how to hunt runaways. They will bind her, throw her in a cargo cart, and bring her straight to the drop point."

Lydia sat in silence for a long minute, her knuckles white against her purse. Finally, with a painful groan, she unlocked her terminal and authorized a transfer. "Take the two thousand. But you go to the registered guild hall and sign a formal contract. If those thugs take the deposit and run, I will hold you responsible."

"Don't worry, Mom," Cassia said, grabbing her coat and stepping toward the front door. "By tomorrow night, our problems will be solved."

* * *

Dawn broke over Wilderness Camp 42 without the warmth of sunlight.

Thalia woke while the room was still gray. She washed quickly, checked the seal on her supply pouches, and strapped on her full protective suit. She tightened the rubber cuffs around her wrists, fitted the heavy particulate respirator over her mouth, and pulled the reinforced goggles over her eyes. She gripped her spiked staff in her right hand, slung her pack over her shoulders, and stepped out into the central courtyard.

The air smelled of sulfur and wet rot.

A thick, dark fog had rolled in from the marshland during the night, settling between the earthen ramparts like black smoke. Suspended within the mist were thousands of minuscule airborne parasites—needle-winged gnats that thrived on contaminated moisture. They swarmed in dense clusters, drawn by the warmth of living flesh.

Cries of alarm echoed across the dirt yard. Several scavengers who had stepped out in standard tunics were already flailing their arms, screaming as the bugs burrowed into the corners of their eyes, their nostrils, and the exposed flesh of their necks. Men slapped madly at their skin, tumbling backward through cabin doors to escape the biting swarm.

Thalia did not stop. She lowered her head, the tough synthetic fabric of her hood deflecting the insect clouds as they pinged against her visor. Leaving the frantic shouts behind, she cleared the outer wooden gate and stepped into the open wild.

Her destination lay two miles east, in the sunken gully where she had spotted the Level 4 thistle yesterday afternoon. If she waited for the fog to burn off, other squads would spot the plant, or the local fauna would tear it apart.

As she moved further from the fortifications, the black mist grew denser, muffling the crunch of her boots on the damp soil. Visibility dropped to less than ten paces. In weather like this, mutant beasts grew agitated, driven wild by the parasites biting at their hides.

Thalia kept her knees bent, swinging her spiked metal staff in low arcs through the tangled brush to check for hidden vipers or pit traps. Every rustle of the thorn bushes made the hair on her arms stand up.

Up ahead, a sudden, wet crash shattered the silence.

The thick briars exploded outward in a shower of broken splinters and black sap. A massive shadow burst through the brush, thrashing in wild agony across the muddy earth. It was a giant black python, its thick scales glistening with dark slime as its coils tore through the vegetation.

Before Thalia could retreat, the creature’s tail whipped through the fog with the force of an iron battering ram. The heavy mass slammed into the mud inches from the toe of her boot, blasting a spray of wet earth and shattered stones straight across her protective visor.