The crunch of debris left behind by a civilization long dead follows me as I navigate through mountains of rusted metal. My fingers instinctively grasp the familiar, jagged spear fashioned from an engine rod and knife blade, while my eyes greedily scan the surroundings for anything useful, and threats. Movement in the corner of my vision. "Prey? Threat?" I mutter in a hushed tone, readying my spear and crouching low; prepared for either. A figure emerges from behind twisted stacks of scrap.