The wind whipped grit into Saena's eyes again. She spat, hunching deeper into her patched coat that smelled faintly of mildew and desperation. "Damn wind," she muttered, kicking a loose plate on the carcass of the airship. It skittered across the warped deck plating with a sad clang. "Damn everything."

This island shard wasn't much. Ash mostly, grey and clinging, punctuated by jagged bones of things Saena didn't want to think too hard about – maybe beasts, maybe people from before the Break. Overhead, the sky was the usual bruise-purple, never quite day, never quite night. Good enough for hiding, bad for seeing what junk was actually worth hauling back.

And this airship... looked promising from afar, less skeletal than most wrecks. Up close, though? Picked clean. Like vultures had been here first, stripping anything useful. Saena yanked at a copper pipe, hoping it wasn't corroded through. It snapped off, leaving jagged edges. Useless. She tossed it down. Another piece of scrap for the rust gods.

Survival out here was simple, really. Find something shiny or sturdy. Trade it for something edible or warm. Don't get shanked by the bigger scavs. Don't fall off the edge into the swirling grey nothingness. Repeat. The Great Loom, the Shattering, all that high-and-mighty talk from the few old-timers who remembered 'before' – meant squat when your stomach was eating itself. It just meant the wrecks were older, rustier, and fell from higher up.

Saena ran a gloved hand over a console near the pilot's seat, feeling for hidden compartments. Nothing. Just cold metal and flaking paint. She sighed, breath misting in the damp air. Another bust. Hours wasted climbing out here for zilch. Maybe she could pry off a few rivets, trade 'em for a waterskin refill back at the settlement. Pathetic.

She gave the console a frustrated kick. Harder than intended. Her boot connected with a solid thud, jarring something loose inside. A faint rattle. Saena paused, ears straining over the ever-present wind. She knelt, peering into the shadows beneath the ruined controls, pushing aside debris.

There. Wedged tight between twisted wires and scorched metal. Not dull. Not rusted.

Something... shiny.

Her heart gave a stupid little jump. Shiny usually meant valuable. Or at least different. And different was something, wasn't it? She reached in, fingers brushing against something hard, cool, and strangely smooth despite its jagged edges. Definitely not standard airship tech. Definitely worth a closer look.