Drex rolled out from under the busted ATV frame and sat up with a grunt. His back cracked as he did so. Sunlight slipped through gaps in the junkyard wall, catching on stacks of rusted-out machines and crushed appliances. He wiped his hands on his overalls and leaned over the twisted drive shaft.

  Still dead.

  He stood and cracked open a synth coffee from the solar fridge. It tasted like copper and regrets, but it worked. Around him, the yard stretched in every direction—half a city block of ruined bots, burnt-out vehicles, old vending units, and military crates nobody wanted to deal with. Someone fenced off the whole thing with scrap walls and reinforced junk.

  Drex called it home.

  He ducked into his container and grabbed a rag. The inside was a mess—workbenches stacked with tools, half a dozen projects mid-build, and a folding cot in the corner. A digital clock blinked 13:48. He had maybe three hours before the next blackout hit the outer grid.

  He was halfway through rewiring a mining drone’s stabilizer when the front gate groaned open.

  “Delivery?” Drex shouted.

  A familiar voice replied. “If you count broken dreams and stolen gear.”

  Juno walked in carrying a plastic crate. Six-foot-something, built like an ex-brick wall. Black tank top, camo pants, boots held together with zip ties and solder. Ex-military, or maybe still was. Hard to tell with him.

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  “Found some junk on 12th,” Juno said. “Couple of decent pieces. Security didn’t care.”

  Drex took the crate and popped it open. Scorched parts. Wiring bundles. A cracked processor chip. He sifted through it.

  “This was a utility bot?”

  Juno nodded. “Looks like a 30-series. Legs were gone. Core was still warm, though.”

  Drex pulled out a burnt sensor array. “These still sell.”

  Juno grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and sat on a stack of tires. “Tower by the docks opened again this morning. Some local gang sent in a jeep.”

  Drex paused. “Let me guess. Didn’t come back.”

  “Nope. Drove right in. Five minutes later, nothing. Whole feed cut out. Then the tower shut again.”

  Drex went back to sorting parts. “What did they expect?”

  “Cheap win. Get in, grab a reward, get out.”

  “They are stupid.”

  “Desperate, you mean,” Juno corrected. “Everyone’s still trying to figure out how the towers work.”

  Drex said nothing. He was thinking again.

  “People are figuring out rules, though,” Juno added. “Only three people can enter at once. Anyone not touching the entry zone gets rejected.”

  “So they send remote stuff.”

  “Tower ignores it. The only reason that jeep made it in was because someone was sitting in it.”

  Drex looked up. “Wait. Someone was in the jeep?”

  Juno nodded. “Hired muscle. Promised a payout to his family if he didn’t make it.”

  Drex shook his head. “What’s the count now? Thirty towers worldwide? And no one’s made it back?”

  “No one. Not yet.”

  Drex stood, wiping his hands again. “Then why keep going in?”

  “Same reason people play the lottery. Doesn’t matter if the odds are bad, it only takes one win.”

  The crate sparked. One of the battery nodes still held charge. Drex unplugged it and tossed it in the working bin.

  He didn’t say it out loud, but he’d been watching the towers too. Mapping out when they opened. What they let through. He checked which teams triggered the towers, and which towers remained untouched.

  None of it made sense. Not yet.

  But it would.

  He looked out past the fence toward the distant skyline. Somewhere beyond the haze and the grid towers, the black spire by the docks stood silent and still. Waiting.