They finally reached the market hub. Gideon pulled down the ski mask, and his eyes widened at the sight before him.
This was not something from a game, a comic, or a novel. It was the real post-apocalyptic market hub right in front of him!
Excitement surged through him as he stared at the world spread out ahead. The settlement lay wedged between two massive canyons, occupying the narrow space carved between towering walls of stone.
This place was known as Climber Rift, a name that suddenly made perfect sense.
From the sand hill, it looked small. Up close, it was anything but.
Canvas roofs stretched across rusted frames, flapping lightly in the hot wind. Market stalls built from welded scrap metal lined the ground level, each one stacked with goods born from hard work and survival.
The hub was crowded. People moved everywhere, voices overlapping, bargaining, laughing, arguing. Gideon spotted individuals from different regions, their clothing and gear wildly varied.
Like a group dressed in crude steampunk gear gambled openly on the street, mechanical parts clanking as they moved.
The canyon walls themselves were lined with homes. Scrap-built houses clung to the stone like barnacles, connected by narrow walkways, ladders, and stairs welded together from whatever metal could be found.
"Oh wow," Gideon murmured. "Aren't they scared it'll fall someday?"
"Rocks fall once in a while," Summer replied. "But the canyon walls are sturdier than the ground in most places. Sand out here can turn into sinkholes or quicksand without warning."
Gideon nodded, still taking everything in.
Below them, the market buzzed with activity. Aberrant materials were openly sold. Cores, meat, fat, skin, tendrils, things he had only just learned the value of.
There were even makeshift restaurants where hunters handed over raw meat and waited while cooks prepared meals on the spot.
He spotted blacksmiths too, though most were clearly gunsmiths. They worked on firearms, ammo, armor vests, goggles, robes, and gear meant for survival rather than beauty.
Summer leaned closer. "They sell ammo here too. A lot of it's handmade, so sometimes it backfires on the user."
She lowered her voice. "Don't tell anyone that though. Their guild will knock on your door if you dare to talk openly of that open secret."
Gideon walked carefully, still limping slightly, when a sharp voice rang out from behind them.
"Clear the way! The Freebound is passing!"
Summer grabbed his arm and yanked him to the side. Everyone around them did the same, stepping back in practiced unison.
A moment later, sand billowed into the air, forming a thick haze. The sound came next, engines roaring, metal grinding.
Out of the dust burst a procession of vehicles.
They were armored trikes, three-wheeled machines built for sand and ruin. Narrow front wheels cut through the terrain while the wide, heavy rear ends churned forward.
Exposed engines rattled as welded armor plates lined their frames. Bone-pale plates were bolted along the sides like trophies taken from fallen beasts.
At the front rode a woman.
Her long, wavy red hair streamed behind her, glowing under the sun. Her eyes were sharp, the same blazing color as the desert sky.
A mask covered the lower half of her face, marked with the symbol of a wolf's head over her mouth.
The convoy thundered past in seconds.
Gideon stared after them, eyes bright with awe.
"Holy shit," he breathed. "That's so cool. So that's the Freebound you're talking about? The one who rules without rule and has 'freedom' as their principal?"
"Something like that… They also hunt a lot, their other name is Pathfinder of the Sand."
But then Summer narrowed her eyes and jabbed him with her elbow. "You playboy."
"What?" Gideon protested. "I meant the vehicle. I totally didn't notice the woman with long red hair and golden eyes."
He shrugged. "Or the fact that she has a really nice—"
Summer had already turned and stormed off.
"Hey!" Gideon called, limping after her.
He could have used a healing potion, but curiosity pulled him forward harder than pain. He wanted to explore everything.
Summer suddenly stopped and pointed upward. "The clinic's up there. You can climb on your own, right? Or do you want me to call the Trailmother to carry you?"
"Trailmother? You mean that redheaded woman?" Gideon chuckled. "Like mommy?"
She elbowed him immediately.
"I'm joking, I'm joking," he said quickly, lifting his hand. "Now help me."
Summer clicked her tongue but took his hand anyway, wrapping his arm around her neck as they started climbing.
"You're lucky I'm kind," she muttered.
"So you're fine sharing me with Freya, but not with anyone else?"
"Freya's my sister," Summer replied without hesitation. "We've shared everything since the beginning."
She kept pouting as they climbed.
"Hm," Gideon said, glancing down at the ground below. "You've got a point."
The stairs were terrifying. Some sections had no railings at all, and a few footholds were missing entirely.
One wrong step meant a long fall. Still, they made it halfway up the canyon wall, where the wind grew harsher and colder.
"We're here!" Summer's mood instantly brightened.
She pushed the door open and announced loudly, "Elaine! I brought you a new patient!"
The clinic was silent.
Three beds lined the room, all empty. The administrative desk was untouched, papers neatly stacked, no one in sight.
"Hm," Gideon said as he eased himself into a chair that looked like a waiting seat. "Maybe she stepped out?"
Before Summer could answer, raised voices echoed from the room beyond.
"We already gave you two days! Two fucking days! What's your excuse now?!"
"You know how hard that shit is to find, right? It costs an arm and a leg, and now you can't even pay!"
"I'll pay next week, I swear."
"You said that last time too. Fuck it. Let's just destroy everything!"
"No! Not that shelf!"
Something crashed as the sound glass shattered filling the room.
Summer stiffened. She turned toward the door, ready to rush in, but Gideon caught her wrist.
"I'll handle this," he said quietly.
He stepped forward instead. They burst into the room and found three men tearing apart a shelf filled with medicine.
Bottles lay smashed on the floor. A woman in a doctor's coat was trying to stop them, but one of the men shoved her aside, sending her sprawling.
Summer's eyes widened.
Gideon moved first.
"What kind of morons destroy the most valuable things in the room over unpaid debt?"
He grabbed one of the men by the head and pressed two fingers hard against his temple.
"Use your fucking brain. You could sell the medicine and earn a profit. Or are you too stupid to think that far?"
The man snarled. "Who the fuck are you?!"
Gideon didn't flinch.
He loomed over them, his body larger, heavier, his presence crushing. His voice dropped, calm and dangerous.
"I'm the man who's going to beat the shit out of you if you don't leave this clinic and this woman alone. Right now."
The room went tense.
And for the first time, the three men hesitated.