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21

The road stretched before me, silent and endless, flanked by overgrown fields that had long since swallowed any signs of human care. The town appeared suddenly, as if conjured from the horizon, its rooftops jutting like broken teeth against the pale morning sky. I paused at the edge of a weathered sign that had once proudly proclaimed the town's name. Now, it was illegible, the paint peeled away by years of wind and rain. My boots scuffed against the cracked asphalt as I stepped forward, unease prickling at the back of my neck.

The first thing that struck me was the stillness. No birds chirped, no insects buzzed. The only sound was the faint creak of the breeze as it shifted loose shutters and rustled through overgrown weeds. The Dawnhound at my side whined softly, its ears swiveling as if trying to catch something just out of reach. My hand dropped to its head, giving it a reassuring pat.

"We'll be in and out," I muttered, though the words felt hollow in the heavy air.

The Phaseling hovered behind me, its light dim as it flitted between the shadows of the leaning buildings. I stepped onto what might have once been Main Street, seeing faded storefronts and rusted signs. A diner's cracked windows revealed rows of empty booths, their cushions split open to reveal the yellowing foam within. Across the street, a gas station's pumps stood like forgotten sentinels, their hoses curling like snakes across the ground.

"Let's see what we can find," I said aloud, more for my own comfort than anything else. My voice sounded strange in the quiet, swallowed up almost immediately. The Dawnhound padded ahead, its nose low to the ground, while the Phaseling darted toward the diner, its glow casting eerie shadows across the interior.

I chose the gas station first. The door was stuck, the frame swollen from years of neglect, but a solid shoulder shove sent it groaning open. Inside, the air was stale, carrying the faint scent of oil and something metallic. Shelves stood mostly empty, though a few dusty cans and boxes still clung stubbornly to their places. I picked through them, tossing a can of beans and a box of crackers into my pack. It wasn't much, but it was something.

The Dawnhound let out a soft bark from outside, drawing my attention. I stepped back into the daylight, shielding my eyes as I scanned the street. The Dawnhound stood in the middle of the road, tail stiff, its gaze locked on a building farther down. Following its line of sight, I spotted what looked like a general store, its faded sign barely legible through the grime coating the windows.

"Good find," I said, making my way toward the store. The Dawnhound trotted ahead, its ears perked. The door to the store hung open, swaying slightly in the breeze. Inside, the aisles were a mess of toppled shelves and scattered debris. My boots crunched over broken glass as I stepped cautiously inside, my hand resting on the hilt of my blade.

The Phaseling slipped in behind me, its glow illuminating the shadows that pooled in the corners. I started sifting through the rubble, uncovering a few more cans of food, a mostly intact first aid kit, and a half-full box of matches. As I worked, the Dawnhound prowled the edges of the store, its movements tense and deliberate.

"Something wrong?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder. The Dawnhound didn't respond, but its posture spoke volumes. I straightened, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my blade as I scanned the dim interior. The Phaseling's glow brightened slightly, and I caught the faintest movement out of the corner of my eye.

"Show yourself," I called, my voice firm. The words hung in the air, unanswered. My heart pounded as I took a step forward, my eyes straining to pierce the gloom. The Dawnhound growled low in its throat, its body coiled like a spring. The movement came again, a flicker in the shadows, and this time I caught the faint outline of a figure—thin, hunched, and quick.

"I'm not here to hurt you," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I just need supplies. If you want, we can trade."

The figure hesitated, then darted out of sight. My muscles tensed, but I stayed where I was, waiting. The Dawnhound's growl subsided slightly, though its body remained rigid. Slowly, I backed toward the door, my eyes never leaving the shadows.

Outside, the sunlight felt harsh and unforgiving after the dim interior. I exhaled, forcing myself to relax. Whoever it was, they hadn't attacked. Maybe they were just another survivor, scared and desperate. Or maybe they were something else entirely. Either way, I wasn't about to stick around and find out.

I made my way toward the edge of town, stopping only to check a few more buildings. Most were empty, their contents picked clean long ago, but I managed to scavenge a few more essentials—a half-full bottle of water, a roll of duct tape, and a rusted multitool. By the time I reached the outskirts, the sun had climbed higher, casting long shadows across the crumbling streets.

The Dawnhound walked beside me, its posture more relaxed now, though its ears still twitched at every sound. The Phaseling hovered above, its light soft, and steady. I paused at the edge of town, glancing back at the silent streets.

"Let's keep moving," I said, adjusting my pack. The Dawnhound wagged its tail once, and the Phaseling's glow brightened in response. As we stepped onto the open road, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. But whatever had been in that town, it hadn't followed.