Chapter 69: Ch 69: Surveying
My pen scratched against the coarse, yellowed paper of my journal, documenting a world that had completely lost its mind. Ever since the Apocalypse tore the sky open and the Rifts began spewing monsters onto Earth, human history had fractured. Out of the blood and ashes, various factions rose to grasp at whatever power they could find.
Yet, the Detroit camp was entirely different. We were kept safe by an anomaly of our own making: the Verdian Cult. To any outsider, their fanaticism sounded completely deranged. They spoke constantly of divine proclamations delivered by a mysterious, unseen figure they called Master Verde. Weird or not, the common people of the Detroit camp chose to trust them with their lives. And surprisingly, that trust remained unbroken to this very day.
Because of their protection, our settlement was currently faring significantly better than any other stronghold on this ruined continent. We had highly organized food scavenging teams, dedicated guard rotations, and a united front that somehow managed to push back the relentless monster sieges. Such stability was never a common occurrence in this new hellscape. It only began when the name of Master Verde started echoing on the tongues of the cultists.
Just as I was noting down the latest survival statistics, the heavy canvas banner of my tent was suddenly pulled open.
My body went completely rigid. My breath caught in my throat, and my right hand instinctively dropped to the heavy combat knife strapped to my thigh.
I only forced myself to exhale and let go of the hilt when I recognized the face standing in the entrance.
It was my nephew, Raidan.
He was an entirely different kind of anomaly. He came and went like a ghost, just as mysterious as the shadowy cult leaders whispering outside our walls. This time, he had vanished without a single trace, only to reappear two whole days later looking completely unfazed by the horrors of the wasteland.
I set my pen down slowly and stared at him. He always brushed off my concerns, but I could not ignore it forever. I should probably ask him where he keeps going. At the very least, I needed to know why.
"You look like you have seen a ghost, Uncle," Raidan smirked, grabbing a rusted tin chair and spinning it around to sit backward.
"I would prefer a ghost," I grumbled, pushing my journal aside. "At least hosts do not disappear for forty eight hours and then waltz back into a military grade survival camp without tripping a single perimeter alarm."
Raidan laughed out loud. It was a genuine, warm sound that made the bleakness of the tent fade away for a moment. He reached into his leather coat and pulled out two slightly bruised, but perfectly ripe apples.
"I brought gifts," Raidan announced, tossing one directly at my chest.
I caught it with clumsy surprise. Fresh fruit was a mythical currency in the Detroit camp. "Where in the ruined world did you find this? The nearest viable orchard is two hundred miles away, and it is currently occupied by a horde of acid spitting centipedes."
"I have a very resourceful scout," Raidan winked, taking a loud, crunchy bite out of his own apple. "Eat it before you start lecturing me about perimeter safety. You look like you have lost another ten pounds."
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the absolute luxury of fresh food. I watched him carefully. Despite the bizarre circumstances surrounding him, he was still the same kid I had practically raised. He still had that cocky tilt to his head and that spark of absolute confidence in his eyes.
"So, Are you going to tell me where you actually go on these little excursions of yours?" finally asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand..
"Just scavenging, Uncle Michael," Raidan replied innocently. "I found a nice, quiet pocket dimension a few sectors over. Very low rent. Great neighbors."
"You are a terrible liar," I snorted, shaking my head. "But I will let it go for today. Mainly because this apple is the best thing I have tasted in three years."
"I aim to please," Raidan smiled brightly.
I finished the fruit and set the core down on my desk. The brief bubble of peace we had shared slowly began to pop, replaced by the crushing reality of our actual situation. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the wooden table.
"I am glad you are back, Raidan. Really, I am. But you need to be extremely careful over the next few weeks."
Raidan stopped chewing. His posture did not change, but the playful spark in his eyes instantly sharpened into something cold and calculating. "Did something happen while I was gone?"
I sighed heavily, running a hand over my tired face. "Yesterday morning, a convoy of armored vehicles rolled up to the southern gate. It was the remnant Military."
Raidan raised an eyebrow. "The Military? They have ignored the Detroit camp for months. They usually stick to the fortified bunkers on the east coast."
"Exactly," I nodded, keeping my voice low so the sound would not carry past the canvas walls. "They did not come to offer supplies or reinforcements. They came to ask questions. They noticed that our survival rates are completely unnatural. They wanted to know how a civilian camp surrounded by Class A rift zones is producing so much food and repelling so many monster waves."
"And what did the camp leaders tell them?" Raidan asked smoothly.
"They played dumb," I answered. "They credited good walls and lucky scavenging. Nobody mentioned the Verdian Cult. Nobody said a single word about Master Verde. But the military commanders are not stupid, Raidan. They left heavily armed scout teams stationed just outside our perimeter."
Raidan sat perfectly still, processing the information.
"They are going to come back," I warned him worriedly, leaning closer. "The commanding officer made it very clear. The Detroit camp is going to face strict military surveys soon. They want to integrate our defenses into their network. If they find out an autonomous cult is running this place, they will tear the camp apart looking for the leader."
Raidan slowly stood up from the tin chair. The warm, jovial nephew from a few moments ago was completely gone. In his place stood someone who looked entirely ready to dismantle an entire army.
"Let them survey us, Uncle," Raidan said softly, his voice carrying a strange, almost unnatural weight. "If the Military wants to visit our home, we will give them a very warm welcome."
--
The midnight sky over the Detroit camp was choked with thick, gray smog. The ruined skeletons of pre-apocalypse skyscrapers loomed in the distance like jagged teeth.
Leo crouched perfectly still on the rusted steel beams of the western watchtower. He was one of the newly elevated Shadow Adepts within the Verdian Cult. Earlier that evening, Master Verde had broadcast a silent, encrypted directive directly into the neural interfaces of all active night guards. The message was simple but absolute. The military was probing their defenses, and zero breaches would be tolerated.
Leo took that command as gospel. He closed his eyes and activated his system given optical enhancements.
When he opened his eyes again, the dark world transformed into a vibrant grid of thermal signatures and glowing mana currents. He began his thorough scanning sweep throughout the camp. He moved his gaze deliberately from the southern barricades to the makeshift housing sector in the north.
Everything appeared completely normal at first glance. The civilian survivors were asleep in their canvas tents and reinforced shipping containers. The regular patrol teams were walking their standard routes, their body heat glowing in bright orange hues against the freezing concrete.
But Leo did not stop at a surface level inspection. He tuned his optical interface to filter out the ambient heat of the camp fires and focused entirely on spatial distortions. The military possessed advanced stealth technology, but they could not completely erase the physical displacement of air.
Ten minutes into his deep scan, Leo found exactly what he was looking for.
A faint, almost imperceptible ripple distorted the visual field near the eastern supply depot. It looked like a heat mirage shimmering over the cold pavement. The anomaly was small, but it was moving with strict, militaristic precision. It bypassed the main guard patrols effortlessly and slipped behind a stack of wooden crates containing the camp’s water purifiers.
Leo tapped the side of his neck to mute his internal radio comms. He did not want to alert the intruder by speaking to the other guards. He was going to handle this personally to earn Master Verde’s favor.
He slipped off the watchtower, landing silently on a pile of discarded tires fifty feet below. His boots made absolutely zero sound. He drew two serrated combat knives from his belt and melted into the deep shadows of the alleyway.
Leo stalked the shimmering distortion across the compound. He moved like a ghost, keeping his breathing entirely shallow. He navigated the debris and broken asphalt without snapping a single twig.
As he rounded the corner of the supply depot, the cloaking field finally flickered and deactivated.
The intruder was kneeling next to the main water filtration unit. It was a man wearing matte black, tactical military armor heavily augmented with mana infused circuitry. The soldier was carefully attaching a glowing silver explosive charge to the side of the water tank. They were not just surveying the camp. They were trying to cripple the water supply to force the civilians into a panic, paving the way for a full military occupation.
Leo tightened his grip on his combat knives. A cold, predatory smile crept across his face.
"You really should have stayed outside the walls," Leo whispered from the darkness, stepping out to block the only exit.