My PoV
I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the harsh glare of the afternoon sun as I guided my drone higher into the sky. The small aircraft hummed softly, its sleek form barely visible against the cloudless expanse above. I squinted at the handheld display, my fingers dancing across the controls with practiced ease.
"Drone out," I muttered, more out of habit than necessity. My eyes scanned the feed hungrily, searching for any sign of movement or life in the desolate landscape sprawled before me.
The ruins of what was once a thriving city stretched as far as the eye could see. Crumbling skyscrapers reached toward the heavens like broken fingers, their windows long since shattered. Nature had begun to reclaim its territory, with vines snaking up the sides of buildings and trees bursting through cracked asphalt. It was beautiful in its own way, a stark reminder of the resilience of life in the face of destruction.
I guided the drone lower, weaving between the husks of abandoned vehicles and piles of rubble. Here and there, flashes of movement caught my eye – a deer picking its way delicately through an overgrown park, a pack of wild dogs trotting purposefully down what used to be Main Street. But no sign of human life, friend or foe.
With a flick of my thumb, I switched the camera feed to X-ray mode. The world transformed into a ghostly landscape of wireframes and shadows. I held my breath, scanning for the telltale silhouettes of human forms or the hard edges of weaponry. Nothing.
Disappointment and unease churned in my gut as I recalled the drone. I watched its approach on the display, guiding it carefully back to my position. As it neared, I reached up and plucked it from the air, its rotors slowing to a stop as I powered it down.
With practiced movements, I secured the drone in its designated spot in the center of my back. The weight was comforting, a piece of reliable tech in an uncertain world.
"What now?" A voice purred from my shoulder, startling me despite its familiarity. "Because none of this is purrfect."
I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a small smile at the terrible pun. My gaze fell on the small feline face displayed on the OLED screen attached to the side of my M4. The AI-powered "Battle Buddy" system had been designed to boost morale and provide tactical support. Its creators had, for reasons I'd never fully understood, decided to give it the personality of a sardonic talking cat. Well at least mine they did.
"Not sure," I replied, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. "I guess we continue on until we find allies or Tangos. I'm not picky at this point."
The cat's digital eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Meow-be we should consider setting up camp soon. The sun's getting low, and my feline instincts are telling me it's nap time."
I snorted, adjusting the strap of my rifle. "Your feline instincts always think it's nap time. But you might be right. We'll push on for another hour, then reassess."
The AI hummed in agreement, the sound oddly soothing. Within moments, the screen dimmed as the Battle Buddy entered its power-saving "sleep" mode. Or in reality, just sleep like a cat that it is, because it's lazy.
I took a deep breath, tasting dust and the faint metallic tang that seemed to permeate the air these days. The weight of solitude pressed down on me, heavier than any pack or weapon. But I squared my shoulders and started walking. One foot in front of the other, eyes constantly scanning the horizon.
Somewhere out there were answers, allies, enemies, something to break the monotony of survival. And I was going to find them, one step at a time.
———
The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape. I'd been walking for an hour, my boots crunching over scattered debris and kicking up small clouds of dust. My eyes scanned the area, always alert for any sign of danger or opportunity. As the light began to fade, I spotted the remains of a building, its partially collapsed roof offering a semblance of shelter.
