He looked at the hologram of the woman standing in a field of green. He looked at the rusted, dripping pipes of his home.
For three hundred years, his people had lived in "The Hive," a subterranean labyrinth built by the "Ancients" before the surface became a scorched graveyard of radiation and glass. They were told the world above was dead. They were told the Archives were forbidden.
Kael didn’t care for the rules. He was a Scavenger, and today, he had found something the Overseers had spent centuries trying to delete.
The air in Sector 42 didn't just smell like rust; it tasted like it—a metallic tang that coated the back of Kael’s throat. He adjusted the straps of his atmospheric filter, the rubber seals hissing against his scarred skin.