Wind howled through shattered windows.Dust floated in thin beams of light.
Riven stood in the center of the ruined depot, blueprint in one hand, broken drone part in the other.
"It's a dump," he muttered."But it's mine."
First step: power.
He scavenged copper from old cooling tubes, tore apart three generators, and rewired them into a battery loop. It groaned to life—barely.
Second step: secure it.
He rigged the front door with a motion sensor from a gutted defense turret. Hooked it to a plasma coil.
"Friendly warning: trespassers get fried."
Third step: space.
He cleared a workbench. Set up a tool rack. Hung blueprints on the wall with scrap nails. Laid out parts in clean, labeled bins.
Piece by piece, it stopped being a ruin.
It became a forge.
He called it The Nest.
Crude, dark, full of humming machines, blue sparks, and his sketches glowing on a half-functional projector.
And in the center, a single note taped above the bench:
"Build something that matters."