Fractured (Part 1)

She leans against her workstation, choosing her words carefully.

We call them CELLs. Strange things - appeared in the region years ago. Nobody knows exactly when or how. They generate power. A lot of it. Enough to run water purifiers, lights, entire facilities.

She absently touches one of her amulets.

The city-states control most of them. It's how Twin Rocks runs their water systems, how Prosperity powers their factories. Each one's guarded like it's worth more than gold.

Her expression grows more cautious.

There's something about them that feels... wrong. They refuse certain tasks - try using one to power weapons manufacturing and watch it die. Almost like they choose what they'll power.

I'm a healer, not a scientist. What I know about CELLs wouldn't fill a page.

She straightens.

But the Institute people in Aniid Kin - they study these things. They can tell you what it is and what it's worth.

The path to Aniid Kin follows the old trade route south. You'll see the settlement from a distance.

A lean man in his mid-fifties sits at a workstation, surrounded by salvaged pre-war equipment and meticulously organized research notes. He doesn't look up as you approach, his attention fixed on a handheld diagnostic device.

After a long moment, he sets down the device with deliberate precision.

The Institute doesn't accept walk-ins. If you're looking for charity, try the Church.

He takes it from your hands without asking, examining with practiced efficiency. His tone becomes clinical, almost bored.

A CELL fragment. Damaged casing, internal degradation.

He sets the CELL piece on his workstation, already cataloging it in his notes.

Pre-war technology requires proper handling and analysis. This is Institute property now.

These devices are far too complex for civilian possession. You did the right thing bringing it here.

A harsh laugh.

Worth something? To whom? You have no idea what you're holding. No expertise to evaluate it. No means to safely store or study it.

He meets your eyes with bureaucratic finality.

Be grateful we're not charging you a handling fee for improper transport of hazardous materials.

Do you have any more questions? If you're that interested in our work, you can find Wren Harper - she is our residential CELLs expert. And she has time for your kind.

Keahi ignores you, absorbed in his work.