Ratom, exploring the ruins of the old civilization, wasn't really baffled by the sight of crumbled buildings and fragments of metal left behind. He silently moved through the wreckage, carefully avoiding the metallic robots—each no bigger than a mosquito.
Some houses still stood, untouched, but not a soul was in sight. These were the first zones to fall—areas the old government had no interest in. The land of the so-called peasants. The air still carried the burnt scent of fried circuits and scorched electronics. But the remaining humans had long adapted. They were simply glad to be alive, clinging to the hope that tomorrow might give them something more.
Ratom stepped on a glowing, transparent piece of glass. He drew his foot back and realized he'd stepped on an old tablet—used during the early days of the war to deliver information to civilians. The only thing still flickering on its cracked screen now was his wanted poster.
"This is not a good picture," he muttered.
The tablet showed other outdated notices: the elimination of 90% of humankind, the collapse of the old government, reports on human farms, the creation of the new capital. But all of that was ancient news. These days, all information flowed through the Cratosphere—accessible only to hybrids and pure cybers.
Suddenly, Ratom heard a sharp wooden crack. Not a bang—something heavier, splintering.
He froze. He knew what it was.
Hive scouts. They were here, checking the zone. Someone must've triggered a sensor.
Ratom wasn't the most empathetic creature, but his heart still beat. He couldn't let human lives be wasted—not while he stood by. He wasn't a hero, but he didn't want this on his conscience.
He followed the sound to an old arcade. Quietly, he surveyed the area. Only two humanoid hives had been sent. "These tin cans are getting cocky," he thought.
Two men and a woman had been hiding beneath the arcade, tucked between broken machines and shattered consoles. But their time had run out. One of the humanoids had already activated a honeycomb and was uploading a new consciousness into one of the men—an older man, maybe in his sixties, with white strands poking through his scalp. His brain wouldn't survive the upload. He was already gone.
The remaining two—probably his children—had accepted their fate.
Ratom moved in silently. He morphed his hand into a spear-like bone and drove it straight through the honeycomb and its wielder.
The second humanoid reacted instantly, drawing two guns.
"You guys have really gotten cocky," Ratom said with a dry grin.
The hive fired. Ratom barely flinched.
"Try again."
"Analysis complete. You are Ratom—the Undefined. I'll take special care of you.
"Yeah, I'm not really into men," Ratom replied coolly.
The next shots were electrically charged. Ratom ducked and dashed forward, dodging each shot with effortless precision. He extended his bone spikes, aiming for a clean strike—but this one wasn't going down easy. The humanoid blocked with armored arms and countered with a kick strong enough to launch Ratom backwards.
This was supposed to be easy. What a drag.
"Changing strategies, are we?"
The hive dropped its guns and shifted into a close-combat stance. Then it charged.
Ratom didn't hesitate.
It closed the gap in a blink, but Ratom recognized the style—an old martial art: Judo. As the hive lunged, Ratom caught its wrist, twisted hard—snap—and before it could react, he drove a bone spike through its head, destroying the data-storing brain inside.
He fried both of their chips and turned to face the humans.
But they weren't grateful.
"You're a humanoid too! I saw you pull bones out of your body—and take bullets!""Why did you save us?" "You're all the same!"
The young woman remained silent.
Ratom sighed, turned his back Not surprised. He'd heard it all before.
He was neither humanoid nor human.
He was Ratom—the Undefined.
And he headed north, still searching for whatever it was he was meant to find.