The screech of metal on metal echoed long before the cloth door opened. Cole stumbled in, sweat darkening the fabric of his undershirt, dragging a half-disassembled mech arm across the floor. The thing was enormous, twice his size, but he pulled it like it was personal.
He let go of the mecha arm, removed his shabby breather mask, and inhaled deeply.
"Sigh! I'll need to buy a new breather mask if I want to continue scavenging for parts."
Medici glanced at him, nodding as he took a long look at the mechanical pile beside Cole. He knew about the situation of the underground Earth. The air here was toxic, bearing all the junk from the upper world, and a breather mask was vital. Especially in the disposal zone.
"I got lucky today," Cole spoke, his face grinning. "They dumped an entire security unit down at Disposal Sector 19. I eyed it for almost two hours, thought Travi's men would've claimed it first."
"Travis," Medici murmured.
It had already been four days since he had transmigrated to this world. When inquiring about how things were in the underground world, the name Travis came up out of Cole.
Although Cole knew little about the mainstream information about the underground world, he knew Travis was one of the bigshots. That was because they were of a similar profession: scavengers.
Medici learned that Cole had survived in this hellhole by scavenging for parts in the disposal zone, and that Travis controlled the entire zone with undisputed might, usually buying useful parts from scavengers like Cole at a cheap price and selling them for profit at recycling zones.
"How far was the sector?" he asked softly.
"Two levels down. Tunnel access. Still had to climb over three collapsed zones. Nasty shit down there. Gas pockets, ferals."
"Don't take such risks again, Cole. Don't carry heavy shit like that." He pointed. "What if Travis's goons would have seen you?" Cole's face changed, nodding as he took the scolding. "Here." Medici threw a spec towards Cole. A spec, as they called it in this world, is a finished and working mechanical gadget. It was also one of the few vocabulary Medici found intriguing in this world.
He had tried to experiment with mechanical components right after hearing of Cole's scavenging gig, and the various spec parts that he would take to Travis for cash. After hearing about this endeavor, Medici told Cole to bring all his bounty to him before going to sell them.
The spec thrown to Cole was one of his successes after experimenting with various parts of specs he had held onto from Cole's pile.
"Is this a breather mask?"
"There is no need to waste credits on such things again," Medici spoke, his voice carrying a tinge of pride. That was because the new spec was a modified breather mask—his first success in turning junk into treasure.
A standard breather mask is comprised of the following components: a face seal, airflow valve, housing frame, straps, and most importantly, a micro-filter cartridge. According to Medici, this design is ingenious, but it had one crucial flaw. The micro-filter cartridge was a consumable, and the activated carbon and electrostatic mesh needed to be replaced every few days or after heavy use.
Medici couldn't understand why such an ingenious creation would have such a flaw. But after thinking about it for a while, he sighed. He had understood this scheme of corporate exploitation. The flaw was deliberate—a component designed specifically to bleed the poor dry of their money.
It was for this reason specifically that he decided to modify this spec, trying to save a few bucks from their meager earnings. He would take Cole's breather mask when he was back from the site and study it, each day trying to find spec components that would be useful in his modification. It was tedious, and Cole would sometimes just glare at him while he crawled towards the pile of junk, watching him tinker—sometimes destroying some in frustration, and sometimes destroying while tinkering.
This made Cole gnash his teeth with heartache, thinking, That would've gotten me two or so credits!! But things got more out of hand the more Medici experimented. In the end, Cole finally couldn't take it anymore, telling Medici to only experiment when he wasn't around.
After three full days, being stuck at home, always tinkering and experimenting, Medici finally modified the breather mask. After tiring days, he finally figured it out. All he had to do was reverse the purge cycle logic.
That was it.
Instead of letting the mask collect toxins until it clogged and needed a replacement filter, he had wired a timed pulse heater to bake the filter medium after each use. Just a small, high-heat burn-off cycle. The filter never got saturated now. It regenerated—quietly and sustainably.
He was ecstatic, looking at his master-class spec, thinking, No more needing to buy disposable cartridges. No more sucking in half-filtered air because one couldn't afford fresh stock.
After finishing the first prototype, he went over the design again.
"The core of this breakthrough was this thin ceramic filter tube, scavenged from a med-bay oxygen concentrator, wrapped in nano-carbon mesh extracted from an old air scrubbing drone. The mesh captured toxins. The ceramic trapped particulates. Then the heat coil cleaned them both." He paused, looking at an extra capacitor.
"It's barely strong enough to run a rail wrench, but provided just enough power for one ten-second heat cycle every few hours. No need for big batteries. No recharge stations. Just a little planning and hualah!!"
It was truly ingenious. And the best part of it all was—
"No part needs regular replacing.
Not even the mesh, as long as the purge cycle ran clean." He took a moment of silence, wishing he could just jump up and down with excitement. It was a beautiful moment of achievement. A moment only engineers, or those who turn theory into practical, would know the feeling of.
However, it was also at this moment that he realized how it sucked being crippled and not being able to roam this new world. Just how much would he accomplish? he would ask himself. He wanted to explore. He wanted to prove his theories in this technologically advanced world. The same theories that he was mocked for while displaying in his other world. The same theories that he could not prove due to the lack of advanced technology.
But he was a cripple. Confined in this shabby place where no one would dare rob him because he was too pathetic and poor. Where no one would dare mess him up or beat him up, since his death would mean his killer would inherit his debt. Such a pitiful existence.
But Medici did not waver, knowing very well that mechanical legs that were incorporated into his body's nervous system were not entirely out of the picture in this new world. There was hope.
Medici looked at his brother and began explaining how to use his new modified breather mask, getting excited by his own genius.
"Wow! So cool!!"
"Yeah! I'm so cool." He basked in his own accomplishment.
"Just think how many credits we would get if we sold one!! No—what if we sold ten?" Cole was already thinking about money.
Medici looked at him teasingly. "Do you always have to think about money...??" But he understood. He had come to understand the kind of life they had been living—where problems would stack and stack. No wonder he is like that, Medici thought as he patted Cole's raven-black hair tenderly.
It was a beautiful moment. One of the first that Medici felt brotherly bond. Feelings of overprotection that surged out of the blue like a tidal wave. It was not the first time. Medici had experienced several of these emotional rolercosters over the course of these four days. Mostly when he watched the peaceful sleep of his brother. At night, he would find himself in tears. His emotions hightened as he questioned this world he had come to. Wondering how such a kind soul would be born in such an enviroment.
Bang! Bang ! Bang!
Gunshots ruined the brotherlly moment. Cole jerked up,kicked the metal bed where Medici usually slept on and used it as a shield facing the cloth door. Medici was surprised. Never had he seen such a powerful kick. He had seen cole carry a large pile of scarvanged junk but.. Just what on earth was that..?
He looked at cole in a new light.
The brothers took cover for about five minutes. Then the sobbing began. Screams of women and children came out of the cloth door. Cole looked at Medici with horrified eyes. Although this was not the first time something like this had happened here, he was worried for his brother who had lost most of his memories. He was surprised . Medici was too calm. His eyes reminiscent of a deep ancient well. Unmoved like a mountain.
Unknowingly, he calmed down. No longer horrified by the possibility of a stray bullet coming their way. "Let us go see what happened." Medici suddenly said. Cole affirmed, knowing that the worst had already passed.
He hoisted Medici onto his back, gritting his teeth as he lifted the frail frame, then pushed aside the cloth door.
What greeted them was a stagnant scene, suspended in dread.
Bodies lay sprawled across the muddy ground. Limp and lifeless. Blood seeped into the dirt, mingling with rust and rainwater in grim silence. A few people knelt beside the fallen, crying their eyes off, their hands trembling as they tried to close eyelids or wipe away grime that wouldn't matter anymore.
There were no sirens. No medical teams. No cleanup crew. Just the heavy, poisonous air and the sobbing of a young girl pressing herself against a body that would never rise again.
Further down the corridor, a man with half his face burned dragged his shot leg behind him, heading towards a half-crushed shelter, calling a name with a pained expression.
Medici was startled. Why was nobody helping the injured. Why was no one consoling those who were left behind? Just what was this situation.
But then another scene almost made him puke.
A scavenger crouched near a corpse,he was not in mourning but in routine. He stripped off a still-warm glove, then checked the body's belt for salvageable parts. His face was hollow, untouched by guilt. Clearly telling the story of the situation of the underground world.Here, grief and survival could not exist together.
Cole stood still, his jaw tightening. His back was wet with Medici's breath, shallow and cold. He turned going back inside without even asking what had transpired from those they shared the same home.