Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 670: In the Junkyard.

The air outside the Walden Hotel didn’t smell like freedom yet; it smelled like cordite, old grease, and the collective anxiety of one thousand five hundred people holding their breath.

When the Fortress Four team stepped onto the veranda_ dust-covered, blood-streaked, but very much alive_ the silence snapped. Sunshine didn’t even have to say the words. The absence of the Walden mercenaries, those overseers who treated the residents like a low-yield crop, was enough.

"It’s over!" Sunshine shouted, her voice raspy. "Mark Walden is gone. The territory is under new management, the fortress four management."

For a heartbeat, nothing. Then, a roar of cheers that rattled the cracked windows of the hotel. People hugged strangers; some fell to their knees. But the jubilation was short-lived.

A middle-aged woman with hands calloused from hard labor pushed through the crowd, her eyes searching Sunshine’s face with a desperate, terrifying hope.

"My boy," she rasped, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Will Orelio be returned to me now?" 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The cheers died a sudden, suffocating death. Sunshine felt the temperature drop. She exchanged a quick, wary glance with Hades, whose jaw was set tight enough to crack bone.

"What do you mean, ’returned’?" Carson asked, stepping forward. He was trying to sound gentle, but his terrifying frame usually made ’gentle’ look like ’intimidatingly calm.’

"The junkyard," an old man called out from the back, his voice trembling. "Every young man, every healthy son, brother or husband... Walden’s men took them to the junkyard mines weeks ago. None of them ever came back."

"They came for them, one by one, promising jobs for supplies. But we have never had from those that left. There are rumors that some of them are dead."

A wave of sobbing broke out. It wasn’t the loud, theatrical kind; it was the low, rhythmic mourning of people who had already braced themselves for the worst but were forced to ask anyway.

Sunshine felt a cold stone form in her stomach. The happy charade they had displayed earlier during the base tour was gone, they all had eyes filled with pain. It was Westbrook and the missing children all over again. To date, they still had parents that were waiting.

She looked at the woman_ the mother_ and felt the crushing weight of leadership and motherhood. "We’re going there now. If they are there, we will find them." Sunshine promised, her voice ringing with a certainty she didn’t quite feel. "We will bring them back. All of them, as long as they have even one breath."

Sunshine did not want to raise their hopes to a point where they would turn on her if what she found broke their hearts.

The drive to the junkyard was silent, save for the roar of the engines and Carson occasionally muttering about how they should not spare the lives of the mercenaries in the junkyard.

"The prison will soon be overcrowded if we keep taking back prisoners. And let’s be honest, not all of those prisoners deserve to live." He turned to O’Toole seeking support.

O’Toole raised his hands and shrugged. "I just do what the boss tells me to do."

As they pulled up to the entrance of the mines, Hadrian was already there, leaning against a rusted fence. His clothes were bloody. He looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a field of tomatoes and won, but his expression soured the moment he saw Sunshine’s face.

Hades was in awe. He had never known his younger to be ruthless. But the apocalypse had changed them all. They were all doing things they would never do in another life: like personally stuffing poisoned food down a man’s throat and watching with satisfaction as he died.

"I am guessing that Mark is dead by now because if he is not, I will kill him myself," Hadrian said. He stepped aside, revealing the area behind him.

Sunshine’s heart didn’t just ache; it felt like it had been put through a trash compactor. Scattered near the mine entrance were bodies. They weren’t soldiers. They were young men, old ones, boys in oversized shirts and men with wedding bands still glinting on their pale fingers. The Walden’s had not been picky about who mined for their treasure, just that it was mined.

"We gave him a quick death," Sunshine whispered regretfully. "If I had known what was down here, I would have kept him alive and thrown him to the people."

"Some were still breathing when we found them, but they could not hang on," Hadrian said quietly. "Malnutrition, exhaustion, and... well, the mercenaries weren’t known for their bedside manner. They were also not picky about who they used to..." He closed his eyes. "You get the picture.

Beside her, Hades let out a low, dangerous growl.

"Carson, get the transport trucks. Now. Those that are badly off need treatment urgently. Give them some Vita E and blood pills, then transport them to the medic bay in Kingsbridge. Those who can’t be treated there should be flown to Silverdale."

"On it," Carson said, his usual humor completely evaporated.

Hades started barking orders into his radio, coordinating with the King’s Bridge medic bay. Sunshine walked toward a group of survivors huddled near a stack of rusted shipping containers. They looked like ghosts_ hollow-eyed and covered in orange mine dust. When they saw her approaching, they flinched. One young man tried to stand, but his knees buckled.

"Easy, easy," Sunshine said, catching him. "I’m Sunshine. We took over the base. You’re free from now on. No more mining."

The young man looked at her, his eyes darting to her weapons. "You’re... letting us leave? Just like that? No more digging?"

"No more digging," Sunshine confirmed. She looked at the others. "Those of you who can walk, start heading toward the main road. We have vehicles coming to pick up anyone who can’t. We’re taking the injured to King’s Bridge. We have real doctors there, and actual food. Not whatever sludge Walden was feeding you."

They hesitated. It was the most heartbreaking thing Sunshine had ever seen_ the hesitation to accept kindness because they’d forgotten it existed.

"Squad, move out, carry and bring the very sick here on your backs or in your arms." Carson yelled from beside the truck.

The superhumans moved. The only one with wings stayed back. The priest was still giving last rites to the dead, grief screaming through his drooping wings.

Slowly, the survivors began to move. Some wept as they walked past the bodies of their friends; others just stared blankly ahead, fueled by nothing but the instinct to get away from the mine.

Once the chaos of the evacuation settled into a grim, organized hum, Sunshine turned her attention to the mine itself. She stepped into the dark maw of the cavern, the air growing thick and metallic.

Hades followed her, his hand never far from his holster.