Hours later, Andy sat in the cluttered shop, a haze of worry clouding his mind. Wily was in bed, deathly pale and barely awake, writhing in pain. His once lively features were now drawn and fragile. Andy didn’t remember how he got there.

  A doctor, a woman of advanced years who had seen too many patients with similar stories, stood beside the bed, shaking her head sadly. She was explaining in a soft, almost detached voice.

  “I’m sorry, Andy,” she said, her voice thick with the weight of resignation. “There’s really nothing more I can do. His condition... it’s beyond our reach. His body’s deteriorating fast. All I can offer is pain relief.”

  Andy’s chest tightened. “There has to be something. You can’t just leave him like this!”

  The doctor glanced at Wily, then back at Andy. “The city’s medical supplies are stretched thin. We don’t have the advanced treatments we once did. Only those with connections to the Vanguard can access the ancient relic Elysium Serum—the only thing that could save him now. But those are reserved for the elite. The common people... they can’t afford them.” "That Serum is nearly impossible to find in the wasteland," the doctor continued, her voice tinged with grim reality. "If even a trace of one is discovered, entire assaults are launched to secure it. That’s how valuable they are."

  Andy’s heart sank. The Vanguard. The elite soldiers who protected the city’s most precious resources—resources Andy could only dream of accessing. Could he really ask them for help?

  He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. He couldn’t just let Wily die like this. Not after everything they had been through.

  The doctor gave him a sympathetic look; her gaze softening just a fraction. “I know it’s hard. But without Elysium Serum, there’s nothing else I can do. If you somehow get some, there’s a chance, but... I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

  Andy nodded, barely hearing her words. His thoughts were elsewhere, focused on what needed to be done. He would get that Elysium Serum, no matter the cost. He couldn’t lose Wily. Not after everything.

  The doctor left shortly after, and Andy was left alone with Wily in the dimly lit shop. The sounds of the city outside felt distant now, as if they were a world away.

  Wily was barely breathing, and Andy’s mind raced. The Vanguard. That was the only option.

  But he didn’t care. He would do whatever it took.

  For Wily, he would go into the heart of the wasteland and bring back what he needed.

  Andy carefully adjusted Wily’s blanket, making sure the older man was as comfortable as possible despite the obvious pain. His mind raced as he thought about the Elysium Serum the doctor had mentioned. Where would I even search for one? He pondered. The Elysium Serum were ancient relics, rumored to possess healing properties beyond anything modern medicine could accomplish. He had only ever heard of them in passing, legends whispered among those who had witnessed their miraculous effects. The doctor’s words about the Vanguard’s willingness to risk so much for them made sense.

  If they could truly heal wounds and restore health to a person better than before—almost as if reversing damage—it would make prosthetics obsolete for many. Cybernetics were a common solution in the city, but not everyone could adapt to them, and they came with a host of risks. The idea of a Serum, something that could simply heal without invasive procedures, was tempting. But the problem was, no one he knew had ever seen one.

  How do I even start looking for something like that?

  He glanced back at Wily’s pained expression, and the frustration of not being able to do anything tangible gnawed at him. His thoughts briefly returned to what the doctor had said: the Vanguard would do anything to secure one. They were, after all, a blade against the wasteland, with access to resources that regular citizens could only dream of. But to get one, Andy knew he couldn’t just join up overnight. The Vanguard’s recruitment process was grueling, a long and deadly training regimen with high attrition. Most didn’t make it. And that wasn’t even considering the fact that they would never just give him one of their prized Serums—especially not without him proving himself first.

  He rubbed his temples. The best chance he had at finding one might be through someone who already had access to the black market. Mr. Turner came to mind. He might know a contact who could help—or at least point him in the right direction. Maybe I can stop by there tomorrow on my way to the Vanguard outpost.

  But even if Mr. Turner had a lead, Andy couldn’t just abandon Wily. He’d need to ask Lana to monitor him while he was gone. She would be his best bet. She already helped him out more than once—she wouldn’t mind looking after Wily for a while.

  Taking a deep breath, Andy resolved to keep moving forward. There was a way to help Wily, but first, he had to find it. And time was running out.

  The morning light filtered through the dusty windows of the shop, casting long shadows across the cluttered room. Andy stood by the door, looking back at Wily, who still lay pale and weak in the bed. His breath was shallow, his body barely reacting to the world around him. Andy swallowed hard, trying to suppress the lump in his throat.

  "For you," he whispered to himself, stepping out and closing the door quietly behind him.

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  The weight of his mission settled on his shoulders as he walked toward the cafe. He couldn’t afford to waste time. Wily needed help, and every second counted.

  Andy walked slowly down the familiar streets, the early morning air cool against his skin as the sun rose over the city. The streets were quieter now, the bustle of the day not yet in full swing. His mind was elsewhere, tangled in a web of worry and determination. He couldn’t afford to lose Wily—not now. Not when he had just felt like there was hope left for this world, for the city, for himself.

  His thoughts kept circling back to the Elysium Serum—the only thing that could save Wily. He could still hear the words of the doctor echoing in his mind: "There’s nothing more we can do. We don’t have the resources. You need the serum. It’s your only option."

  And Andy knew the serum was out there, somewhere. He just needed to find it.

  He had a few options in mind, but none of them were easy. The Vanguard might have connections to resources, but he wasn’t sure how far he could push them without drawing too much attention. They had enough on their plate already with the state of the city and the growing unrest. The underground, too, was always a possibility. Mr. Turner had his fingers in a lot of pies, but could Andy trust him?

  Then there was the Church of Light—an organization that promised healing and restoration, but always with a catch. Could they help? Would they? Or would they demand some kind of payment for a service that seemed too good to be true?

  His mind churned through the possibilities, his thoughts as scattered as the broken cityscape he walked through. He didn’t know where to begin. Time was ticking, and Wily’s condition was deteriorating by the day.

  The familiar chime of the door greeted Andy as he stepped into Lana’s café. The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee and the warm, welcoming aroma of baked goods filled the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. It was a small, cozy space, the soft glow of warm lighting casting a gentle hue over the mismatched chairs and tables.

  Lana stood behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, her hands busy with a dish towel. She was humming softly, an easy smile on her face as her eyes met his.

  “Hey there, you’re up early,” she greeted him, her voice light and warm. "What can I get you today?" Her eyes flickered over him, noting the tension in his posture, the furrow in his brow. Something was off.

  Andy hesitated for a moment before he leaned against the counter, his usual confident demeanor faltering a bit. The weight of everything pressing on him made the air in the café feel suddenly thick. His gaze fell to the floor for a brief second, gathering his thoughts.

  "Actually, Lana..." he began, his voice lower than usual, tinged with something vulnerable. "I need to ask a favor. It’s about Wily." He swallowed, the words feeling heavier than he expected. "He’s not doing well. The doctor said there’s not much they can do for him... without the proper resources. I think I know where I can find them. But..." He trailed off for a moment, looking up at her, his eyes pleading with a quiet desperation. "It’s dangerous. And I don’t want to leave him alone."

  Lana’s smile faltered almost imperceptibly, her expression softening with concern. She leaned in slightly; her gaze not just on him, but trying to read him, to understand. “Of course, Andy. You know I’d help however I can. What’s going on with him?”

  Her tone was gentle, but there was no mistaking the worry in her eyes. Wily had always been a fixture in Andy’s life, and by extension, Lana’s, too. Seeing him in a weakened state, unable to help, was something neither of them could swallow.

  Andy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It’s his health," he whispered, his voice strained. "It’s... It’s gotten worse. The doctors say there’s nothing more they can do unless we get some special equipment. But..." He swallowed again, trying to steady his breathing. "I don’t want to leave him alone with this. He’s been there my whole life, Lana. I can’t let him down now."

  Lana placed the towel down on the counter and stepped a little closer to him, her eyes meeting his. Her voice was steady, her words filled with genuine understanding. "I get it," she said, her tone soft but firm. "You don’t have to worry. You can count on me. I’ll check in on him, make sure he’s comfortable." She hesitated, then added, "Just... be careful, alright? You’re no good to him if you end up in danger yourself."

  Andy smiled faintly, his chest easing slightly at her words. He nodded, feeling the weight of his gratitude. "I will. Thanks, Lana. I... I really appreciate it."

  The words felt inadequate, but it was the best he could offer at the moment.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Something hung in the air between them—an unspoken understanding, a shared bond forged through years of friendship, and now, perhaps, something deeper.

  Andy stood there longer than he meant to, still looking at her, almost as if waiting for something. Lana’s smile softened, though her gaze was curious.

  "Anything else?" she asked, breaking the silence with a gentle teasing tone, her voice light.

  Andy blinked, momentarily surprised. "What?" he asked, confused by her sudden change in mood.

  Lana chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I said, ‘anything else?’ You’ve got a lot on your plate, and I think I just figured out that it’s not just about Wily." She leaned back a little, crossing her arms with a casual yet knowing glance. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve noticed your distraction all morning.”

  Andy opened his mouth to protest, but hesitated. Was it that obvious? He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Maybe,” he said, his tone a little more playful now. “Guess I’ve got a lot on my mind. Just didn’t expect everything to pile up at once.”

  Lana studied him for a moment, then her smile turned into something softer, more sincere. “Andy…” Her voice trailed off as she closed the space between them. “You know you don’t have to carry everything alone, right? I’ve seen what you’re doing—keeping everything together—and I admire you for it. But you don’t have to act like you’ve got it all figured out. Not with me.” Her words lingered in the air between them, almost fragile in their sincerity.

  Andy’s chest tightened, and he felt the sudden weight of her words. He wanted to respond, but he just gave a small nod. “Thanks, Lana,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Then she added, “And just so you know... after Wily’s better, I’m holding you to a dinner. You owe me.”

  Andy’s lips twitched into a smile, and he looked down at the counter, feeling the warmth of the moment slowly creeping back into his chest. "I’ll keep that in mind," he said, though there was something else in his tone now. A flicker of something he couldn’t quite place.

  Lana winked at him, her smile playful, but there was an underlying warmth to it. “Good,” she said. “Just don’t make me wait too long.”

  With that, Andy turned to leave, his mind still buzzing with everything that had just been said, but he felt lighter. There was something about Lana that had always made him feel like everything could be alright, even in the chaos. As the door chimes rang behind him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, there was more than just duty and survival in his life.