The New Renaissance had not been kind to everyone. Delson Snow, at the age of twenty-eight, had survived five years of hardship, five years of learning the ways of a world that had broken apart and tried to stitch itself back together again. But stitching, he knew, always left seams. And those seams were where a man like him could thrive. Delson crouched on the rusted rooftop of an old storage container, overlooking the chaotic sprawl of the Lee triplets' scrap yard. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a sickly orange light over the twisted metal and shattered remnants of old-world technology. Piles of ancient cars, machinery, and broken electronics were stacked haphazardly in every direction, a monument to what humanity had once been before the world collapsed. He wiped sweat from his brow, feeling the weight of his pack against his back. It was empty for now, but that would change soon. He had his eyes on a particular prize, a piece of old-world tech that the triplets did not even know they had, something valuable enough to change his fortunes, at least for a time. His sharp eyes scanned the yard, tracking the movements of Tecker and Decker, the two brothers who always seemed to be either bickering or getting in each other's way. They were thick-necked, broad-shouldered men, with more muscle than sense between them. If anyone in this scrap heap was a threat, it wasn't them. No, the real threat was Jecker, the third of the Lee triplets. He was somewhere in the yard, hidden from view, but Delson knew he would be close. Jecker was the smart one. The dangerous one.
Delson's mind wandered briefly as he crouched, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move. Five years had passed since the fall, since the Earth's core had torn itself apart and taken most of humanity with it. What remained was not a world anyone would have recognized before. Cities had fallen, governments had crumbled, and the very structure of society had been rebuilt from the ruins. This era was known as the New Renaissance, though there was little about it that felt like the rebirth its name suggested. The world now revolved around a few key principles, survival, scavenging, and trade. The old monetary systems were gone, replaced by credits, shales, and manual labor hours. Those who had access to technology or resources could barter for survival. Everyone else, those without the means or knowledge to trade, worked. They toiled in the ruins of the old world, exchanging their sweat and blood for the bare necessities. Delson had no interest in working for scraps. He had never been one for manual labor. His hands were made for lighter work, for theft, for quick thinking, and for survival on his own terms. The New Renaissance might have reshaped the world, but it had not reshaped him.
As he watched, a handful of customers made their way through the yard, trading goods with the triplets. Most of them were locals from nearby settlements, their faces gaunt and sunburned, their clothes patched together from whatever fabrics they could scavenge. They approached the makeshift stalls set up in front of the scrap heaps, haggling with Tecker and Decker for parts and supplies. One man offered a rusted-out engine in exchange for a handful of credits, while a woman nearby was bartering with shales, small, flat pieces of metal that had become another form of currency. She needed a battery for her farming equipment and was willing to trade several days' worth of labor for it. Behind them, a group of workers toiled away, sweat dripping from their faces as they dismantled old machines for salvageable parts. They worked in exchange for food, clothing, or whatever they could get their hands on. Manual labor hours were not just a term in the New Renaissance, they were life. People worked, they toiled, they bartered their strength and their sweat to get by. Watching them, Delson felt a small pang of guilt, just a fleeting thought, but it was quickly replaced by a hardened resolve. He was not going to break his back just to scrape by in this world. He would find another way. His attention drifted back to Tecker and Decker. The brothers were clumsy, slapping each other on the back and laughing as they closed another deal. Delson's lips curled into a faint smirk. They would not know what hit them.
Delson moved like a shadow, slipping down from his vantage point, and darting between piles of scrap. His eyes were trained on the small shed in the far corner of the yard, where the triplets stored their more valuable items, pieces they had yet to sell or did not fully understand. That is where his target would be. With each step, he felt the adrenaline pump through his veins. He could hear Tecker's booming voice in the distance, a garbled mess of laughter and shouting as the brothers continued their business. Delson crouched low, weaving through the narrow pathways of rusted metal and broken machinery. When he reached the shed, the door was half-open, creaking in the breeze. Delson peered inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. Shelves lined the walls, each cluttered with pieces of old-world technology, small computer chips, broken radios, parts from machines that had long since lost their purpose. And there, on the top shelf, was what he had come for. It was a small, sleek device, no bigger than his palm. It hummed with a faint blue light, and Delson had no idea what it did. But he knew it was valuable. Someone would pay a fortune for a piece like this, something untouched by the hands of scavengers. He grabbed it and slipped it into his pack, his heart racing. But just as he turned to leave, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind him.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"
Tecker's voice boomed through the yard, and Delson cursed under his breath. He bolted, sprinting between the piles of scrap as Tecker's heavy footsteps pounded behind him. Decker joined in, his voice carrying a mix of confusion and anger.
"Get back here, thief!"
Delson's feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted through the maze of scrap. Tecker and Decker's heavy footfalls and frustrated shouts echoed behind him, but he was already thinking ahead. He knew the triplets would not follow him much longer. They were not cut out for a real chase. But Jecker, he would be waiting, and Delson needed to keep his lead. Ahead, the scrap yard opened into a settlement, a ragtag collection of buildings that had sprung up around the yard over the years. It was a testament to the importance of the scrap pile as a hub of trade and survival. This was where people came to barter, where deals were made, and where lives were lived in the shadow of the old world's ruins. The settlement resembled a village out of some long-forgotten era. Dirt paths wound between cobbled houses built from whatever materials people could find, stone, wood, mud, and the occasional chunk of old-world metal. The roofs were patched together from thatch, scrap, and tarps, creating a patchwork of colors that fluttered in the breeze. Smoke rose from a few chimneys, and people moved about the narrow streets, tending to their trades, or haggling for supplies. Delson vaulted over a low stone wall, his hands gripping the rough surface before he landed smoothly on the other side. The moment his feet touched the ground, he was off again, weaving through the narrow paths that crisscrossed the settlement. The villagers barely glanced at him, used to the constant hustle and bustle of life around the scrap yard. A few children playing in the dirt watched him pass, their eyes wide with curiosity. He could hear Tecker and Decker crashing behind him, their shouts growing louder. They were clumsy, but they were determined. Delson smirked to himself, determination was not going to help them catch him. He darted left, his feet kicking up dust as he tore down a narrow alley between two crumbling buildings. One of the structures had partially collapsed, its wooden beams leaning precariously against the walls. Delson barely slowed, running straight for the gap between the beams and the building's edge. He leapt, grabbing hold of a wooden beam, and using it to vault himself onto a cart that blocked the path. The cart's wheels groaned under his weight for a moment, but he was already gone, hitting the ground, and rolling to absorb the impact. He sprang to his feet and glanced back, Tecker and Decker were still on his trail, though they were losing ground. They stumbled over the obstacles he had cleared with ease, their frustration evident in their ragged shouts.
"Stop running, you thief!" Tecker's voice was a mix of fury and desperation.
Delson ignored him. There was no stopping now, not until he was far away from the scrap yard and the triplets. But as he rounded another corner, his escape route was blocked by a narrow street filled with villagers. People were hauling supplies, moving goods between stalls, and bartering for items they needed to survive. The crowd was too thick to push through without drawing more attention. He needed another way out.
His eyes darted to the side, and he spotted a building with a low roof, its surface covered in a patchwork of scrap metal and tarps. Without hesitating, Delson sprinted toward it, leaping onto a pile of crates stacked against the wall. The moment his foot hit the top of the stack, he pushed off, grabbing the edge of the roof with both hands and pulling himself up in one fluid motion. From his new vantage point, Delson could see the whole settlement sprawled out before him. The dirt roads snaked between the buildings, leading back toward the scrap yard, where Tecker and Decker were still trying to make their way through the crowd. He grinned to himself, they were not going to catch him today. But Jecker might.
Delson turned and ran along the rooftop, his feet barely making a sound as he sprinted across the uneven surface. The wind whipped past him, catching the edges of the tarps and making them flutter like sails. He leapt from one building to the next, the gap between them only a few feet wide, but enough to give him the lead he needed. As he ran, he caught glimpses of the villagers below, going about their daily lives. In one house, a family was gathered around a small fire, their faces drawn and weary. The floor was packed with dirt, and the walls were little more than mud bricks held together with bits of wood and stone. Another home had children huddled together under a patched blanket, their eyes wide as they watched the world outside their window. Delson's heart clenched for a moment. The world had changed so much, and this was all that was left for these people. It was not much, but it was enough for them to survive. He could not think about that now. He had to keep moving.
Ahead, the next building's window was open, a narrow gap just wide enough for him to fit through. Without slowing, Delson leapt from the roof and twisted his body in midair, diving through the window and landing inside with a roll. The room he landed in was small, cramped, and smelled of smoke and old wood. A single cot sat against the wall, and a rickety table was cluttered with scraps of food and old tools. The sound of children's voices filtered in from another room, but Delson was already on his feet and moving again. He dashed through the house, barely noticing the startled cries of the occupants, and burst through the back door into another narrow alley. He glanced back, expecting to see Tecker and Decker far behind, but instead, he saw Jecker. The smartest of the triplets had already anticipated his move and was waiting in the alley, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "Well, well, look who we have here," Jecker said calmly, his voice carrying just enough smugness to make Delson's blood boil. "Thought you could slip through unnoticed, huh?" Delson cursed under his breath. He was good, but Jecker was better. Delson skidded to a stop, his breath coming in sharp bursts. He was not panicking yet, but he knew this would be a problem. Jecker was not like his brothers. He would not be easily fooled. The alley was narrow, the walls were close enough that there was no room to maneuver. Jecker blocked the only clear exit, and behind him, Delson could hear the heavy footsteps of Tecker and Decker approaching. He was trapped.
But he was not beaten.
"Looks like the clever little thief thought he could outsmart all three of us," Jecker said with a calm, knowing smirk. Tecker and Decker came stumbling around the corner a moment later, red-faced, and out of breath.
"We got him, Jecker!" Tecker panted.
"No, I got him," Jecker corrected, his eyes never leaving Delson. "Now, what's it going to be, thief? You think you can talk your way out of this one?"
Delson's hand instinctively went to the device in his pack. He was cornered, but he was not beaten. Not yet.
Delson's heart raced, but his mind was sharp, calculating the best way out of this trap. He met Jecker's smug gaze, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the situation. The alley was tight, too tight to make a straightforward dash. Tecker and Decker's heavy footsteps grew louder, the sound of their clumsy pursuit a constant reminder that time was running out. Jecker leaned against the wall, blocking the exit, completely at ease. "You know, for a guy who's supposed to be smart, you sure made this easy for me. Guess even a thief has his limits." Delson smirked, his hands twitching at his sides. "Oh, I'm just giving you a little hope, Jecker. Wouldn't want you to feel useless, considering how much heavier you must be carrying the weight of your brothers' collective brainpower." Jecker's eyes flashed, but he kept his calm. "Big talk for someone with no way out. You're cornered, Delson. Face it."
Delson didn't waste a second more. His eyes darted around the alley, searching for anything he could use to his advantage. The walls were crumbling, pieces of wood and stone jutting out in irregular places, and above him, a tangle of wooden beams crossed between the buildings. The solution formed in his mind in an instant. "You know, Jecker, it's funny how you think being in the way is the same thing as being in control." Delson's voice was smooth, nonchalant, as if the situation bored him. He took a single step forward, feigning surrender, and Jecker's smug expression deepened. "Finally ready to give up?" Jecker asked, standing a little taller. Delson grinned. "Not exactly."
With a burst of speed, Delson bolted straight toward Jecker. The suddenness of the move caught him off guard, and Jecker's eyes widened, but Delson wasn't aiming for him. Just before reaching Jecker, Delson leapt to the side, running up the alley wall with quick, sure steps. His feet found the rough edges of the stone and wood, propelling him upward in a blur of motion. Jecker reached out, but his fingers brushed only air. "Gotta be quicker than that, genius!" Delson taunted mid-flight, as he reached for the low-hanging beam above. With one hand, he caught the beam and swung his body upward, flipping neatly over Jecker's head. The move was so fast that Jecker barely had time to register it before Delson's feet hit the ground behind him. Jecker spun around, anger flashing in his eyes. "You think you're clever, huh?" Delson was already backing away, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I know I'm clever. But don't feel too bad, Jecker. You'll catch up one day. Maybe." Jecker lunged, but Delson was too quick. He sidestepped the attack effortlessly, watching with amusement as Jecker stumbled forward, unbalanced. Tecker and Decker appeared at the end of the alley, panting and red-faced, just in time to see Jecker struggle to regain his footing.
"Jecker! We got him yet?" Tecker shouted, his voice full of hope. Jecker growled under his breath. "Not yet, you idiots!" Delson didn't waste any more time. He darted toward the stack of crates near the end of the alley, vaulting over them in one smooth motion. His hands found the edge of another roof, and with a quick pull, he was up and running again, leaving the triplets to fumble in the dirt behind him. Tecker and Decker gave a half-hearted attempt to follow, but their heavy bodies weren't built for the kind of agility Delson had. They stumbled and cursed, knocking over crates and making a mess of the alley, while Jecker stood fuming, watching Delson's lithe form disappear across the rooftops. "You won't get away next time!" Jecker shouted after him, though the frustration in his voice was evident. Delson didn't bother to look back. He was already too far ahead, his escape route clear in his mind. The rooftops of the settlement were his playground, a maze he'd mastered long ago. He leapt from one building to the next, his body moving with practiced ease, his mind racing with thoughts of his next move. As he landed on the final rooftop, he took a moment to glance back at the chaos he'd left behind. Tecker and Decker were still shouting, scrambling over the debris, while Jecker stood alone, glaring up at him from the ground.
Delson gave him a mock salute, his grin wide and taunting. "Better luck next time, Jecker! Maybe bring some smarter company!" Without waiting for a response, Delson turned and sprinted off, disappearing into the shadows of the settlement. He had the device, and he had his freedom. For now, that was all that mattered.