Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure

Ariel snapped her eyes open. A blinding pain sliced through her skull, hot and sharp, like a white-hot wire carving into her brain. She gasped, her chest heaving against the thin fabric of her shirt.

Her vision swam, dark spots dancing before slowly solidifying into shapes. Towering figures surrounded her. Mutated humans. Their shoulders were broad, their arms thick with corded muscle, skin marked by rough patches of scales or coarse hair. The air stank of sweat, unwashed bodies, and something metallic, like old blood.

A bitter wind whipped across the open square, cutting right through her flimsy clothes. She shivered violently, her teeth chattering so hard she thought they might crack.

Then the memories hit her. Not hers. The original Ariel's. Desperation. Fear. The terror of being a weak rodent-variant female in a world that crushed the weak underfoot. The mandatory pairing. The auction block.

"Ten seconds!" a guard bellowed from the high platform, his voice booming over the murmuring crowd. "If you don't have a partner in ten seconds, you get assigned to the border patrol squads!"

Three massive figures detached themselves from the edge of the crowd. Scars crisscrossed their faces. Their eyes, greedy and predatory, locked onto Ariel. They moved toward her, their heavy boots thudding on the packed dirt.

Ariel's heart slammed against her ribs. No. Not like this. She scrambled backward, her shoulder blades hitting the rough stone of a crumbling wall. She had to find someone. Anyone. A legal shield.

Her gaze darted through the jeering, shoving mass of bodies. She needed someone who wouldn't hurt her. Someone the others wouldn't fight her for.

There.

In the shadow of the wall, isolated by a wide berth of empty space, stood a figure. He leaned against the moss-covered stone, his posture slumped. His face was a sickly pale, almost translucent under the gray sky.

He suddenly hunched over, a violent cough tearing from his chest. It sounded like tearing fabric. He clapped a hand over his mouth. When he pulled it away, dark red blood stained his long, pale fingers. It dripped onto the muddy ground, the metallic stench sharp and foul.

The surrounding mutants recoiled, disgust twisting their features. They shuffled away, leaving a wide circle around him like he was a walking plague.

Ariel didn't hesitate. She sucked in a freezing breath, ignoring the burn in her lungs, and pushed herself off the wall. She ignored the three brutes closing in from her left. She walked straight toward the corner.

She stopped right in front of the sick man. She turned her back to the wind, using her thin body to block the bitter gusts from hitting him.

He slowly raised his head. His eyes were a striking gray-blue, cold and guarded, like chips of ice. He stared at her, waiting for the insult, the mockery.

Ariel forced her lips into a smile. It felt weak, but it was steady. She raised her right hand, dust clinging to her fingers, and held it out directly in his line of sight.

"Partner up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, low enough that only he could hear over the noise of the square. "Cooperation. I need a shield, you need a caretaker."

His pupils contracted. A flicker of sheer shock crossed his icy gaze. He looked at her outstretched hand, then slowly scanned her body. She was thin, fragile, looking like a strong gust could snap her in two.

Silence stretched between them. Then, a self-deprecating smirk touched the corner of his pale lips. He raised his hand, his fingers cold and trembling slightly, and clasped hers.

The grip was brief but firm.

"Move it!" the guard barked, stomping over. He pulled out a worn piece of parchment and a charcoal stick. He scratched their names onto the list with rough, angry strokes.

"Done. Get out."

The moment the registration was complete, a wave of open mockery washed over the square. Laughter and jeers echoed off the stone walls. A weakling and a dying man. What a joke.

Ariel tuned them out completely. She turned her head, catching Elvin's eye, and tilted her chin toward the exit. Let's go.

Elvin pushed off the wall. He pressed a hand against the stone, his arm shaking as he forced his tall body upright. He looked like it took every ounce of his strength just to stand.

They walked, one after the other, through the thick, hostile crowd. They ignored the elbows, the spit, the whispered insults. They walked down the muddy, slippery slope leading away from the center of the camp, toward the edge, toward the rundown shelter that was now theirs.