Sector 404 wasn't called the "graveyard of progress" for nothing.
Once, in the golden days of the Genesis-Prime Corporation, life thrived here. Cutting-edge laboratories hummed with the sound of servers. Scientists in white coats forged the future from DNA and silicon. Neon screens flickered with formulas promising immortality.
But after the Great Failure — the catastrophe when an AI went rogue and dumped every piece of data into one chaotic stream — these districts turned into a true infernal labyrinth.
Broken glass crunched underfoot like fragments of shattered dreams. Rusted servers jutted from the ground like gravestones. And flesh that refused to die crawled through shadowed corners, making wet, sloshing sounds.
The air was thick with poisonous fog — a mixture of chemical waste and rotting organic matter — and every breath cut the lungs like a blade.
Astra Nova Luna moved carefully through the wreckage, stepping lightly to avoid making noise.
Her boots sank into a layer of debris: torn wires, fragments of circuit boards, and something suspiciously similar to human bones.
She knew killing one Ripper had only been a warm-up.
The real problem with Sector 404 was its inhabitants — the "rejected" creatures that possessed a primitive collective mind. Spill the blood of one, and the others would smell it through ventilation shafts, feel its vibrations through the ground.
It was a web where every thread led to another mouth.
"Thanatos, how many within a hundred meters?" she asked silently, stepping over a torn-off loader manipulator. The metal arm still twitched in spasms from residual electricity.
The voice in her head answered instantly, laced with mild irony — as if they were chatting over drinks at a bar instead of standing in hell.
[OH, MY LUNAR STAR, FAR TOO MANY FOR A GIRL WITH THREE MISERABLE SHELLS LEFT. I SEE SEVEN HEAT SIGNATURES IN THE BASEMENT TO YOUR LEFT — SCURRYING AROUND LIKE RATS IN A SEWER. AND ONE MORE… VERY STRANGE ONE RIGHT ABOVE YOU. BE CAREFUL. IT'S HOT. LITERALLY.]
Astra didn't waste time thinking.
She instantly rolled behind the rusted skeleton of a truck, adrenaline already hammering through her veins.
From above — from the shattered remains of a collapsed bridge — something crashed down exactly where she had been standing a second earlier.
A creature.
A massive, deformed hound born from an engineer's nightmare.
Instead of fur, its body was covered in sharp silicon plates that glimmered under the dim glow of broken neon. From its spine protruded fragments of fiber-optic cables, sparking with blue electric light like a Christmas garland from hell.
Its eyes — two red sensors — locked onto her like laser sights.
Inside Astra's mind, an analysis flashed cold and precise like a digital interface.
ANALYSIS: CYBER-GNAT (RANK: LOW PARASITE)
Traits: High speed, electrical damage
Soul value: 0.3
Astra snorted, raising the Peacemaker-7.
The shotgun barrel was still warm from the previous shot.
"Greedy god," she muttered, not taking her eyes off the creature.
"You even count decimals? I thought you were the embodiment of death, not an accountant with a calculator."
[HA-HA, MY REAPER. THE SEA IS MADE OF DROPS, AND MY GREATNESS IS BUILT FROM EVERY GRAIN OF LIFE YOU BRING ME. KILL IT. I NEED THAT ENERGY TO UPGRADE YOUR BODY. OR WOULD YOU RATHER BECOME PART OF THIS JUNKYARD?]
The Cyber-Gnat released an ultrasonic screech that made Astra's ears ring.
An arc of electricity burst from the cables on its back — a bright blue bolt that slammed into the truck. Metal screamed, paint burned black in an instant, and the air filled with the sharp scent of ozone.
Astra felt the hairs on her arms rise from the static charge. Her skin prickled as if pierced by thousands of needles.
She didn't fire immediately.
The shotgun was too loud. It would wake the entire scrapyard.
Instead, she pulled out an old military knife, its blade nicked with age and blackened by soot.
Death Sight highlighted a thin gap in the creature's silicon armor along its belly — a pulsing red line like a crack in reality's armor.
"Alright, handsome. Let's dance," Astra said silently to Thanatos as she lunged forward.
She moved not like a human but like a shadow — fluid, without wasted motion.
Thanatos's presence inside her nervous system removed all hesitation, making her movements terrifyingly precise. Almost supernatural.
The Gnat slashed with its claw — steel spikes slicing through the air — but Astra slipped beneath it like water under a stone.
Her knife plunged into the soft, unprotected area beneath its abdomen. She twisted the blade for maximum damage.
A splash of blue technical fluid — thick as oil — sprayed across her coat.
A short circuit erupted.
The cables sparked wildly and the creature convulsed, its body jerking like a puppet with cut strings.
Astra kept her grip, driving the blade deeper until the light in the hound's sensor-eyes finally died, leaving only a faint trail of smoke.
[HARVEST COMPLETE,] Thanatos purred with satisfaction.
[GOOD WORK, MY GIRL. YOU'RE GETTING BETTER.]
RECEIVED: 0.3 SOULS
TOTAL BALANCE: 1.3 SOULS
Astra wiped the knife on her pant leg, feeling the adrenaline fade and a slight tremor settle into her fingers.
"Enough for anything useful?" she asked, scanning the foggy surroundings. The mist thickened, and her lungs had begun to burn from the poison.
[OH YES, REAPER. YOU CAN BUY 'PASSIVE LUNG FILTRATION.' THE FOG HERE IS A MIX OF ASBESTOS, CHEMICALS, AND GOD KNOWS WHAT ELSE. WITHOUT IT, YOU'LL DIE FROM SWELLING IN ABOUT AN HOUR. OR WORSE — YOU'LL BECOME ONE OF THESE CREATURES. IMAGINE: ASTRA NOVA LUNA CRAWLING THROUGH THE SCRAPYARD WITH CABLES IN HER BACK. AMUSING, BUT NOT FOR YOU.]
"Buy it," Astra replied instantly.
"Just don't tell me it's going to hurt."
A strange cold burning spread inside her chest — as if someone had poured liquid nitrogen into her lungs.
Her throat, which had been raw from the toxic fumes of Sector 404, suddenly filled with freshness. It felt like breathing clean mountain air instead of the vapors of a poisoned wasteland.
The fog still swirled around her.
But now it no longer entered her body.
"Not bad," Astra said, standing up and rolling her shoulders.
"I feel brand new. Maybe I'll stay here longer. Might even have a picnic among these freaks."
Thanatos laughed — low, velvety, approving.
[A PICNIC? OH, I LOVE YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR, MY STAR. YOU'RE GETTING STRONGER. NOW LOOK DEEPER INTO THE SECTOR — AMONG THE RUINS OF THOSE GIANT ROBOTS THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF THE SAME SPARKING SHADOWS. FOR ANYONE ELSE THIS WOULD BE A DEATH SENTENCE. FOR YOU — IT'S A SOUL BUFFET.]
Astra looked into the distance.
Among the ruins of gigantic robots — the skeletal remains of ancient machines — hundreds of similar sparkling shadows moved.
Their sensor-eyes flickered in the fog like distant stars in a night sky.
"Time to earn a first-class ticket to the Moon," Astra said, racking the shotgun as a shell slid into place.
"Thanatos, mark everyone whose soul is worth more than one. We're starting a purge. And try not to be greedy — I want upgrades that will turn me into a goddess."
[I PROMISE, MY REAPER. I'LL MARK THEM FOR YOU. AND YOU… JUST DO WHAT YOU DO BEST — BURN THIS WORLD TO ASHES. TOGETHER, WE WILL WIN.]
Astra stepped forward into the fog.
The scrapyard was waiting.
And so were the souls.