RISE FROM THE VOID

Chapter 2. THE EXILES' MARK

Veyra's shelter was a gutted cargo container welded to the side of a trash mountain. Rust ate through the walls in orange blooms, but inside was surprisingly organized weapons mounted on hooks, supplies sorted into scavenged crates, a makeshift bed of compressed fabric.

"Sit."

 Veyra shoved Xander onto a stool made from stacked tires. 

"Before you bleed out."

Xander slumped, watching red drip from his side onto the metal floor. Each drop echoed in the container like a tiny bell. His vision swam, black spots dancing at the edges.

Veyra's hands moved with practiced efficiency. She cut away his shredded jacket, prodded the wound. Xander hissed through clenched teeth.

"Shallow. You're lucky." 

She doused the cut with something clear that burned like liquid fire. Xander's scream died in his throat as she packed the wound with salvaged gauze.

 "The wraith that chased you,you said it came from above?"

"Yeah. At the service platform, right after I…" 

He stopped. The fall. The betrayal. It felt like years ago instead of hours.

"They don't usually climb that high."

 Veyra wrapped his ribs with strips of clean fabric, pulling tight.

 "Something drew it up. Fresh blood, probably. You're a beacon down here, fresh meat."

"Stop calling me that."

"What should I call you, then?"

"Xander."

She tied off the bandage with a sharp tug that made him gasp.

 "Well, Xander, you've got maybe six hours before infection sets in. The air down here is poison, and that cut's already dirty. You need a Remnant. Fast."

"You keep saying that word." 

Xander watched her move to a workbench cluttered with scrap metal. 

"What is it? Really?"

Veyra lifted her sword. In the container's dim light, it pulsed,faint green symbols crawling along the blade like living things. 

"This was a locket. My daughter's. Had her picture inside, a curl of her hair."

 Her voice went flat, emotionless.

 "Celestara's magistrates took her when I couldn't pay my debts. Threw me down here three years later when I tried to get her back."

Xander's breath caught. 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." 

Veyra's grip tightened on the hilt. 

"That locket was the only piece of her I had left. When I fell into the Void, when the wraiths came for me, I held it so tight the chain cut my palm."

 She held up her left hand,a white scar crossed the lifeline.

 "I thought about her. How much I'd lost. How much I'd failed her. And then..."

The sword blazed brighter, light spilling across the container walls.

"It changed. It became this. A Remnant,my grief became solid, my love turned to steel." 

Veyra's eyes met his.

 "Every Exile down here has one. It's the only way to fight the wraiths. The only way to survive."

"Exile?" 

Xander tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't cooperate.

 "There are others?"

"Forty-three of us, last count. People Celestara threw away who refused to die."

 She sheathed the blade. 

"We hunt wraiths, map the Void, search for a way out. Most die within a month. Some last years. A few even…" 

She stopped, jaw tight. 

"Point is, you need to forge your Remnant now, or you won't see tomorrow."

Xander's hand drifted to his chest, where Harlan's blood had dried into his shirt.

 "How?"

"Focus on what you lost. Hold something that mattered."

 Veyra rummaged through a crate, tossed him a length of copper wire.

 "Channel everything,the grief, the rage, the love. If it's strong enough, if you mean it enough, the Remnant will answer."

The wire was cold in Xander's palm. He stared at it, seeing instead Harlan's workshop. The old man's patient hands taught him to strip motors, to see value in broken things. The quiet pride when Xander made his first solo catch from the drop-zone.

The pool of blood spreading across the floor.

"I don't know if I can…"

A scream shattered the air outside. Human, desperate, cutting off mid-note.

Veyra grabbed her sword, moved to the container's entrance.

 "Stay here."

"What was that?"

"Wraiths found someone." 

She peered into the toxic haze.

 "Damn. Three of them, moving fast. Whoever fell is still alive. Barely."

Xander pushed himself up, ignoring the fire in his side.

 "You're going to help them?"

"That's what we do." 

Veyra glanced back. 

"You're in no shape to fight. Stay. Put. I'll be back."

She vanished into the chemical fog.

Xander stood there, wire clutched in his fist, listening to distant screams. Every instinct said to hide, to wait, to survive.

But Harlan's voice echoed in his memory: 

"We're scavengers, boy. We find value in what others throw away. That includes people."

Xander limped to the weapons rack. His hand closed around a rusted pipe,not much, but it was something. He stumbled out into the Void.

The landscape was worse than he'd realized. Mountains of garbage stretched to a horizon choked with yellow-green smog. Rivers of chemical sludge carved channels through the waste. And everywhere, wraiths shambled between the trash piles,hundreds of them, maybe thousands.

The screaming came from his left.

Xander ran, each step agony. The wire was still in his hand, cutting into his palm. Blood welled up, hot and red.

He rounded a mountain of crushed vehicles and saw them.

A young woman, maybe sixteen, trapped against a wall of compacted trash. Three wraiths circled her,one built from shopping carts and mannequin limbs, another from industrial machinery, the third a nightmare of plastic dolls melted together.

Veyra was already there, her Remnant blade carving through the shopping cart wraith. It collapsed into component parts, twitching. But the other two pressed closer to the girl.

Xander charged.

The pipe wasn't a Remnant. It was just rusted metal. But he swung it with everything he had, catching the doll-wraith across what passed for its skull. The impact jarred his arms, sent pain lancing through his injured side.

The wraith turned, plastic faces swiveling to focus on him. Its mouth opened,a cavity filled with shattered porcelain teeth and shrieked.

Then it lunged.

Xander dodged, barely. The wraith's claws,fingers made from splintered wood,raked the air where his head had been. He swung again, aiming for its legs. The pipe connected, and one leg shattered.

The wraith toppled, reaching for him with desperate hunger.

Veyra's blade punched through its chest. The wraith 

convulsed once, then went still.

"I told you to stay put!" 

Veyra yanked her sword free, whirled toward the machinery wraith. It was bigger than the others, pistons and gears grinding as it advanced on the terrified girl.

Xander moved without thinking. He threw himself between them, pipe raised.

The wraith's fist,a hydraulic press wrapped in chains,hammered down.

Time slowed.

Xander saw the blow coming, knew he couldn't dodge. The pipe wouldn't stop it. He was going to die here, in this toxic pit, and Harlan's killer would walk free forever.

‘No.’

The wire in his hand blazed with heat. Not burning,transforming. Xander's grief, his rage, every memory of Harlan poured into that simple copper strand. The old man's laugh. His calloused hands. The way he'd looked at Xander like he mattered, like he was worth something.

The wire exploded with light.

When the glow faded, Xander wore bracers. They covered his forearms from wrist to elbow, constructed from interwoven copper wire that pulsed with the same green symbols as Veyra's blade. But these were different,the wire shifted, moved, alive.

The wraith's fist descended.

Xander raised his arms. The bracers erupted, wire unspooling and hardening into a shield of geometric patterns. The hydraulic fist hit the shield and stopped dead.

Then rebounded.

The wraith staggered back, gears grinding in confusion.

Xander stared at his arms. The bracers thrummed with power,Harlan's power, his memory made manifest. He thought about the workshop, about broken things made whole. The wire responded, flowing like water, reshaping itself.

It became a blade extending from his right bracer.

"Help her!" 

Veyra was locked in combat with the machinery wraith, her Remnant blade sparking against its armored hide.

Xander grabbed the girl's arm, pulled her to her feet. 

"Can you run?"

She nodded, mute with terror.

"Then run. That way."

 He pointed toward Veyra's shelter. 

"Go!"

The girl fled.

The machinery wraith knocked Veyra aside, turned its attention to Xander. Up close, it was enormous,seven feet of industrial nightmare, smelling of oil and rot.

It charged.

Xander's bracers shifted, wire flowing into new configurations. He didn't know how he knew what to do,the Remnant seemed to understand, to respond to instinct rather than thought.

The wire became a grappling hook.

He launched it at the wraith's leg, pulled hard. The creature crashed down, shaking the ground. Veyra was there in an instant, her blade finding the gap between its chest plates.

The wraith shuddered and died.

Silence fell, broken only by the distant sounds of the Void,chemical rivers bubbling, trash settling, the endless groan of garbage under pressure.

Veyra stared at Xander's bracers.

 "You forged a Remnant. In combat. While wounded."

 She laughed, short and sharp.

 "Either you're incredibly strong, or incredibly stupid."

"Can't it be both?"

"Come on." 

Veyra started walking back toward her shelter.

 "You need rest, and we need to talk. You just became an Exile, fresh meat. Welcome to hell."

Xander followed, testing the bracers. The wire responded to his thoughts, flowing through shapes,blade, shield, hook, back to simple bracers. Each transformation felt natural, like the copper was an extension of his body.

Harlan's final gift.

He looked up, trying to see through the toxic smog to where Celestara

gleamed. Somewhere up there, a masked killer walked free. Somewhere up there, people lived in luxury built on the backs of the discarded.

The bracers pulsed against his skin, warm and steady.

Xander smiled.

Let them think he was dead. Let them believe the Void had swallowed another piece of trash.

He would survive. Grow stronger. Learn to fight.

And then he would climb.