'FOUND VIII'

  You can tell a lot about someone, by the weapon they wield, as it's quality, power, and rarity usually indicates the status of the individual. Scrappers, like myself, prefer the more reliable side of weaponry, things that function- though aren't exactly powerful or hard to come by.

  SC's are precisely what you'd think, they're collectors, and are prone to hoard whatever type of weapon- or really anything they can get their hands on, it's the reason they're called Scrap Collectors. Even they are limited by expertise in the field despite their tendencies.

  An anti-material rifle, which is what I assume this reaver wields, is not only an extremely powerful weapon, but an extremely scarce one. It's quality, as a result, I can only assume is high. Though even the most skilled and known reavers would lack such a weapon.

  If we're dealing with a reaver, he's entire flights of stairs above the vast majority of them.

  I have to admit, I'm pretty accustomed to a consistent pace of running down annoyingly long pathways, but even this is a stretch for my legs. The kid only has one leg, and the other is mechanical, but I'm still not sure if that means more of less effort.

  As we continued down the surroundings somehow became even more bare, large chunks of metal is missing from the walls, and the railing eventually stopped appearing entirely. By the simple virtue of not wanting to fall we had to curb our speedy progress to steady progress.

  I haven't felt relief many times in my lifetime, but what I felt when I began to slowly make out the outline of something other than an endless abyss, it's palpable for sure. Unfortunately the kid had decided to take that moment to begin to slow down drastically.

  The silhouette of one of those boxy carts was something I didn't think I'd be happy to see.

  "Wait. Slow down." Kip tiredly demanded, huffing through his words,

  "You're doing well kid, don't stop now." I reassure,

  I look back to find him resting one of his shoulders against an exposed pipe, which was when I noticed large hanging cabling and wires swinging about.

  "I just- need a moment." Kip timidly replied,

  "Have it then, we've made it in time." I jovially state,

  We began to move closer, but something began to come in to view, and in anticipation I swung my long gun around to aim at a shadowy blob.

  "What are you aiming at?" Kip asked, louder than I would've liked,

  "Shut it, and stay behind me." I sharply order,

  He hesitates at my order, in fact he decides to completely disobey it, and he begins to move past me as if to get a better look.

  "Come on, we can't solve everything by shooting at it." Kip stupidly argued,

  "Don't be stupid kid. I said stay back." I rashly reply,

  I pull him back by his pack, quickly substituting my long gun for the revolver as we slowly encroached on the shadow, which morphed into a figure.

  "It's compromised." I quietly comment,

  "It looks like a person, I think." Kip whispered,

  The figure seemed to move more obviously into the doorway, and I squint as if I was somehow going to get a better look, or, well, because it didn't look right.

  "Hey!" Kip recklessly shouted,

  I smacked my hand over his mouth, the figure made a turning motion, and made a waving motion toward us.

  "Who is there. I need help." The figure dully said,

  It was too late to exercise stealth, but it was still possible to get something useful out of this, it's dangerous, terribly dangerous, even if the figure has no weapon.

  "We could help you, if you can help us with a bit of an issue." I slyly reply,

  "Of course. Come over." The figure flatly asked,

  "What do you need help with?" Kip immediately questioned, forcing my hand from his mouth,

  The figure then descended into the small facility which held the cart in place, I have my reservations, but even so, the reaver is a far bigger problem.

  "Just follow my lead kid, and don't do anything for them, keep them in view at all times." I sharply command,

  "I'm sorry for shouting." Kip replied,

  "I'll kick you later." I simply reply,

  We cautiously move closer to the maintenance station. It's terribly hot here.

  Maintenance stations can get extremely hot and that can due to a thousand things, but usually it's due to the ventilation being particularly terrible. They are also commonly stripped on anything remotely useful, meaning they are in disrepair always, and eerily empty.

  It's even rare to find them in the first place, so many of them are simply gone, for a variety of reasons you could probably guess. Either way, it's also the perfect place for an ambush, and if someone- or something, is already there, well, it looks bleak.

  But we just don't have the time for extreme caution, only preparation.

  As expected, once the station was in proper view it was a bleak sight, ripped apart, stripped for anything useful. I'm guessing that the SC has all the tools required to repair the cart if it's damaged, and dens usually share carts regardless.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Even if this person is from the other den, it's worth knowing that if you're not in it, they'll never know if the person who killed you ever did it. So, regardless, out here you need to point you weapon in their direction, before they point one at you.

  I quickly pivot into the station, prepared to shoot at anything, but, there was nothing.

  Instead it was just the figure, a scrapper seemingly, in completely covering gear. It wasn't well maintained, and he completely lacked weaponry. I expect gear to be badly maintained, it's just common, but no weapon.

  That's unexpected, to say the least.

  The station itself was a complete wreck, with hanging and exposed cabling, ripped wires, and panels stripped of all external hardware. There were long uniform slashes across the walls, with large incisions into a frontal device which seemed to control the station itself.

  The roof was a jumbling of interconnected wires and cabling which were pulled in every single direction possible. The actual roofing of the station itself was most likely a fair bit higher, but the amount of exposed hanging wiring managed to obscure it completely.

  "Hey, we need your help." Kip promptly admitted,

  "Yes. We need tools that can repair a cart. Do you have any." The figure blankly said,

  It looked at the kid, and stared at him, which was enough to get the kid to step back behind me again. Their composure was terribly stiff, something was wrong here.

  "I don't have any tools, but we have someone coming with whatever we'd need to fix it. Unfortunately, there's a bit of an issue in that department too." I calmly explain,

  "Which department do you have an issue with." The figure flatly replied,

  I remain still for a moment, my revolver pointed at them, but they remained unperturbed. A lot of people aren't, since they usually have one pointed back, he doesn't.

  "We're being chased, and he'll kill you as much as he will kill us." I simply answer,

  "Wha- Where are you from?" Kip anxiously asked, even I can admit that's a good question,

  The figure locked its eye to the cart for a moment, before snapping back to the kid. I slightly lower my weapon, I guess it's best to keep it more cordial under these circumstances.

  "I came from the den over. You cannot enter this place other than from where you came from and far along the tunnels up on the surface." The figure commented,

  "We're going to have to wait about then, and hope the others get here faster." I say, looking over to the kid,

  It was clear he was greatly confused by the figures answer, but, even when I look at the cart, it looks functional to me. No clear external damage, and no way to check internally without tools.

  "That is fine. I need a weapon. They took mine." The figure strangely asked,

  "Who took your weapon?" I ask,

  "The reaver." The figure slowly answered,

  The kid then pulled against my pack, which I did not appreciate, I nodded at him to get him to actually say what he wants to.

  "The cart, we never sent it back." Kip carefully whispered,

  Oh, I see now. But, that's a question for later, currently all we need is more guns pointed at the threat. Well, that's unless this one here is a threat as well.

  "How'd you know it was a reaver?" I cautiously question,

  "We are not privy to all the information. Are we scrapper?" The figure replied,

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you not a scrapper?" I quickly ask,

  I raise my weapon properly again at his skull. I didn't realise what the kid was doing, if anything, my guess is that he was looking back for the others.

  "I am what I am. In need of a weapon. Yes. That will do." The figure cryptically stated, pointing at the charge gun in my other holster,

  "This ones loaned. Besides, why would I give it to you?" I doubtfully reply,

  "Give it to me? You misunderstand. I require to be shot by it." The figure explained,

  I looked at the kid for a moment after that, in a mix of curiosity and shock. He looked back to me, and then we looked back toward the figure.

  "What?" We both say,

  "Yes." The figure simply answered,

  "Why would I do that?" I curiously ask,

  "Why would you want that?" Kip also asked,

  The figure sharply turned to the kid again, before looking past over us, as if he was checking the distance being covered by Lila and the others. Somehow.

  "I propose a simple transaction. I will answer your question. You will shoot me. Do you agree with these terms?" The figure slowly asked,

  "Sure?" I cautiously reply,

  "You should do 'that'. As I am the only one. Who can stop the reaver." The figure answered,

  I weigh my options carefully here, if he's correct, then he's a free ticket out of trouble. But, how would shooting him do anything? If he already lost before, how could he win now? What the hell was he fighting with?

  Too many questions, too little time. The reaver is only getting closer.

  "Are you going to shoot me?" The figure blandly asked,

  "No, I'm not satisfied with that answer." I confidently state,

  The figure's head tilts slightly, before moving back into a straightened position. That wasn't a good sign of his satisfaction either, but luckily, I have the gun.

  "What are you here for?" I calmly ask,

  "Are you the weapon or the man who wields it?" The figure strangely questioned,

  "Don't rabble philosophy to me. You're wearing bloody corpse armour." I quickly rebut,

  "Indeed. I don't know who this armour belonged too. Perhaps the last one who tried to help." The figure flatly said,

  "Well?" I ask,

  "I do not know. I am the weapon wielded by another. Much like yourself." The figure dully answered,

  The figure stepped forward, inching closer to the barrel of my weapon, and stopped just short of me pulling the trigger right in between its eyes.

  "We weapons are not given the full picture. We are aimed and fired. That is all I am. As you are to them. I will give you the time to make things right. All you must do is shoot me." The figure boringly explained,

  The figure then began stepping back, an optimal distance for the charge gun to take full effect. The charge gun is a machine fryer, though, it's just as good as a heart stopper.

  "What if you die anyway, then that's just a charge gone for nothing, batteries aren't cheap." I rebut,

  "My failure is none of your concern. There are few precious seconds left. The reaver is coming. As is your wielder." The figure stated,

  My wielder? The kid decided to snicker at his last statement, which he immediately stopped after I looked in his direction. Moments of internal deliberation pass in what feels like hours.

  "No other options." I finally agree,

  I pull out the charge gun with my other hand, it charges for a half a second, then it fires. It shoots a concentrated blast of electricity, which envelopes the figure instantly, causing him to fall to the floor.

  The body continued convulsing for a couple of seconds, causing the kid to almost jump backward from the entire ordeal. We share a look of disgust as the body finally stopped moving after two seconds, there was a slight singe in the air, and a lingering silence along with it.

  "You good kid?" I reluctantly ask,

  "I-" Kip stumbled, but then refused to answer,

  "It's hard to see us, past all that gear and smoke. But, we take all of it as scrappers, the horrors, the madness, the money, and the end. Be prepared for it all, because you are going to see it all." I say,

  The kid stiffened up, looking like he had just bitten off more than he could chew. I guess in a way he did, as I did, when my mentor had told those words to me.

  I looked behind us, and through the annoying flakes I could see Lila coming along with that cart of hoarded things every SC seems to be incapable to part with.

  We both observed as they slowly began to come into view, just barely via the lamps they decided to carry along with them. Not the smartest idea in a cart tunnel, but luckily a charge gun solves most issues that come from this place.

  There was something sinking in my stomach. I watched as they got closer, and though nothing occurred. There's a dangerous game being played here, but I just can't see it.

  Maybe I just need to think it off.

  The kid decided to catch my attention again, pulling against my pack causing me to turn to him, where he was pointing toward where the body of the figure once was. He was gone, without a trace of him even being there.

  The other entrance to this place was still sealed shut, and considering the conjoining lever which was probably there to open the door gone, I assume it cannot be opened easily. Not only did this person- no thing, survive a charge gun. It got up and just left?

  The wires were lightly swaying.