Dust and Echoes
Chapter One: Dust and Echoes
The sun beat down on the cracked earth, baking the ruins of what was once Nova Ridge. A lone figure, cloaked in scavenged cloth, moved with a fluid grace that belied the harshness of the landscape.
This was Linnea, a practitioner of “Dust Fist,” a martial art born from the ashes of the old world. Linnea wasn’t looking for trouble, but trouble often found those who knew how to survive. A gang of raiders, their bodies adorned with scrap metal and desperation, emerged from the skeletal remains of a building. Their leader, a hulking brute named Rexton, grinned, revealing teeth filed to sharp points.
“Look what we have here,” Rexton sneered, cracking his knuckles. “A little bird lost in the wasteland. Hand over your water, and maybe we’ll let you live.” Linnea’s eyes narrowed.
Water was life in this desolate world, and she wasn’t about to surrender hers.
“I suggest you reconsider,” she said, her voice calm but firm. Rexton laughed, a harsh, grating sound.
“You think you can stop us? There are five of us, and you’re just one.” Linnea shifted her weight, her body coiling like a viper ready to strike. “Then I’ll make it quick.”
