Ryan wiped scorching grit from his goggles as he stared across the OCO-12 Sector, a desolate stretch of the Sand-Dune Moon located exactly twelve clicks north of the main mall hub. His electric security scooter had finally died, leaving him and Dover stranded in the Permanent Clearance overflow lot—a graveyard of rusted kiosks and unsold holiday décor.
“I am overheating,” Dover groaned, his metal steps clicking rhythmically like a dying clock. “My lubricant is boiling. Leave me here to become a very shiny, very depressed piece of scrap metal.”
“We aren’t dying over a broken battery,” Ryan said, checking his tattered paper map. “There is a survival cache hidden behind the Abandoned Abercrombie and Droid monolith. If we make it, we can call a Teleports Authority shuttle.”
The ground shuddered. A swarm of feral, As-Is shopping carts crested the nearest dune. These weren’t standard carts; they had evolved jagged, wire-mesh teeth and a thirst for protein. They squeaked a high-pitched hunting chitter that echoed off the scorched dunes.
“Run!” Ryan yelled, dragging Dover toward the monolith. They slid down a sun-bleached billboard for Donna Karan Milky Way, narrowly avoiding a lead cart that snapped at Ryan’s heels.
They reached the monolith’s shadow just as Nebula dropped from a vent above, her green skin dusty and her third arm holding a glowing canister of liquid nitrogen.
“Took you long enough,” she smirked. “Mr. Meankinder’s middle head says if we use the emergency coolant, it is coming out of our checks.”
Ryan looked at the charging swarm. “Survival or a paycheck?” Hardest decision of my life.
“Ryan!” Dover screamed as a cart bit his bumper.
“Fine! Survival!” Ryan popped the seal, freezing the entire dune—and accidentally Dover’s left railing—solid.
“Great,” Dover sighed. “Now I am a depressed popsicle.”
(This story was created by an earthquake on July 2, 2026. Magnitude of: 3.39. 12 km N of Ocotillo Wells, CA. URL: https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/ci41285223)
