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[Ghst] Chapter 12: Juno's Junkyard
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 03:48:21 +0000 UTCJuno’s Junkyard spanned the circumference of the slums that bordered the ruins of Los Angeles. Beyond the sweeping hills of metal and rust, was the military’s defence line, where the towering turrets marked the boundary, beyond which were the lost territories.
It was just one of multiple repositories of the tech discarded from Elsecaller city and its surrounds. Vehicles, drones, weapons, and just about every electronic component that was rendered unusable found a grave in the hills of steel. At least, those stripped of all usable components.
Well… almost all of them.
That was how Juno Drewer made an income. Salvaging what remained from the dregs that made it out of the city of hope and horror, creating some semblance of an economy in the slums.
“I must have missed the memo, Carmen. Bring your animals to work day?” Juno sniffed, as he did a once over of Evantra and Noelle. Notably, he didn’t cast his gaze towards Lucas as he spoke.
Juno wore a sharp black suit – sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the techrats that worked for him, dressed in overalls stained with oil and rust. He had his wavy, ashen hair slicked back, no doubt seeking to emulate the high-flying corpos that ruled, quite literally, above the clouds from their thrones above the city of hope.
It would be more accurate to say he looks like one of the scrambling rats fighting for the lauded executive suites. The infinite sea of middle management that most corpos are destined for.
Elsecaller’s true rulers aren’t beholden to the rabble’s impression of them.
Carmen barely gave her employer a glance as she walked into his office, taking her seat at her desk. It seemed like she was accustomed to his usual antics. Juno’s own office overlooked the towering hills of metal that comprised the junkyards, a solitary, raised building situated at the junkyard’s entrance.
Evantra and Carmen had spent many a meal covertly looking up the interiors of the corporate towers in Elsecaller City, to her parents’ distaste. Each company tried to distinguish themselves by embracing a different theme, often taking inspiration from the paranormal, the different Mythic Veilsurges, or Veilcreatures.
Symbols of fear, turned to their own ends.
Even so… she almost would have preferred them to Juno’s uninspired workspace. Devoid of the technological advancements present in even the most mundane of offices in Elsecaller city.
“Evantra and Noelle are here to keep an eye on Lucas.”
Juno frowned as he watched Evantra give him an overly casual wave. He scoffed as she smiled at him. She was accustomed to this dance. Noelle looked on in confusion at the pair of them.
“So long as the rodents don’t make too much noise. We’ve got our work cut out for us. Caliburn are commencing mining operations soon. We’re assisting with mineral extraction – we have some of the necessary hardware. Inventory has to be done by today. They’re going to be dropping by at any moment. When they do, make sure your ducklings are in their cages.”
“Such reasonable deadlines, boss. Don’t you worry about my ducks and rats.” Evantra and Carmen exchanged a smirk. Seeing Carmen smile at her, falling into their usual routine brought Evantra a measure of relief after their discussion.
“I’m serious Carmen, don’t fuck this u—”
“Hi Juno!”
Lucas’ voice cut through Juno’s, halting him in his tracks. Noelle locked up, her face morphing into an expression of horror at what the little boy had done. It was clear that the junkyard’s proprietor was stressed out of his mind with Caliburn’s arrival.
Juno sighed as he ran his hair through his slicked back hair.
Then he bent down and swooped Lucas into his arms, hefting him up into the air, as the little boy laughed.
“Interrupting me? Your mother hasn’t taught you any manners young man. Do you remember the words I taught you?” Lucas frowned – quite adorably – as he struggled to remember the words.
“Assets, liabilities, crebitors and detties?”
“Creditors and debtors. Which are the good ones?”
“Assets and debtors.”
“That’s my boy.”
“Juno, if you aren’t careful, you’re going to create a monster. He’ll be ruling over Elsecaller city as a loan shark in no time.”
Juno sneered at Evantra as he hefted Lucas in his arms.
“Can’t say you share his promising future, girl. Why don’t you go make yourself useful for once, hmm? Cypha needs help in the yard. Bring your—” Juno gestured vaguely towards Noelle – ‘friend’ along.”
“You got it boss.”
“Juno! Juno, what’s that ship?” Noelle watched, wide-mouthed as the sleazy businessman fell to putty in young Lucas’ hands. Getting away with things none of his employees could ever begin to dream of.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Evantra whispered. “He’s still a scumbag. Just one with a soft spot for Lucas. His only redeeming quality.”
Noelle’s eyes narrowed in confusion as she struggled to decipher the confusing relationship dynamics at play before her.
“C’mon, we wouldn’t want to interrupt his brief moment of humanity. I’ll show you the yards—”
Evantra was interrupted by the opening of the door to Juno’s office.
Three familiar figures strode in.
The lead figure was the tall Ghostslayer with the grey, hexagonal armour. “Lancelot’s” crystal blue eyes found hers, and she felt a chill run down her spine as they washed over her as if she posed just as much of a threat to his clients as the furniture surrounding her.
Elaine Hallewell had decided to replace her sheer black shift with smart black pants to match her burgundy suit jacket. She looked like she had walked off a high fantasy themed fashion catalogue.
Behind her, followed Clark Hallewell, the broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and warm brown eyes who looked uncomfortable in the simple but tailored black suit that he wore. The same suit that he had worn last time. While Elaine seemed content to treat her like a stray insect on the wall, Clark gave her a brief wave and a grin, seemingly recognising her from their prior interaction which she reluctantly returned.
“Mr Juno Drew, I presume?”
“Yes, yes of course. It is my pleasure, Miss Hallewell.”
Juno gently lowered Lucas to the ground before shooting Evantra and Noelle a barely concealed glower. Evantra dragged Noelle behind her, as she made her way to the door, taking special care to avoid the woman’s gaze.
The door clicked close behind them, and they padded down the rickety metallic stairs.
“Evantra… those were the Hallewells. They’re the owners of Caliburn Mining. They didn’t just send some representative, it’s the family, here in the flesh. Though I’m not sure if they’re the direct line…”
Noelle’s fingers rapidly flew across her phone screen, before nodding.
“Branch family – Clark and Elaine are Arthur Hallewell’s nephew and niece. Still, that must mean there’s something important enough in Wisptown to receive their direct attention. I wonder what it could be,” for a moment, Noelle seemed to have regained some of the enthusiasm she had displayed when Evantra had first met her, before she seemed to recall just who she was talking to.
Noelle stuttered, averting her eyes.
“I um…”
Evantra watched with mild fascination and confusion as the girl struggled to complete her sentence.
“Evantra… I saw what you did, down in the sewers.”
Noelle’s words broke her from moment of internal amusement, though she didn’t betray her alarm.
Before she could reply, a short techrat on a hoverbike stopped next to them, pulling a wide floating cart behind it. The techrat had tangled brown hair tied into a tight bun, and a pair of dusty goggles clamped over their eyes. She wore baggy orange pants and a black jacket with a high collar, that seemed to ward off the dust that hurtled around the junkyard.
“Hey Cypha.”
“Brought a friend with you this time, I see? Jump in. The boss told me to put you to work.”
“Figures. He wanted us out to speak with the Caliburn reps. So much for ‘babysitting’ Lucas.”
Noelle stuttered as her eyes passed over the hoverbike. An ancient model from Pegasus corporation, which specialised in mass-produced motor vehicles, marketed towards the broader population.
“You want me to hop in that? Are you sure it’s safe?”
Cypha gave her a gap-toothed grin.
She didn’t answer.
---
Cypha’s hoverbike carved its way through the mountains of metal. Evantra watched as Noelle gaped up at the techrats that swarmed the junkyard, in search for any valuable components that could be extracted from the scrap.
Hulking cranes with giant magnets extracted scrap metal that had been combed through by the techrats, to be melted down in furnaces.
Whatever components the techrats did find, made their way into the slum markets, and were typically picked up by small-time techies. Every once in a while, there was a bigger find, which warranted Juno approaching buyers directly.
After a few minutes travelling into the scrap fields, Cypha’s bike eventually came to a stop.
“Alright, this is my spot. Want me to show you the ropes? I’ll give you a cut for anything you find.”
“Actually… we were hoping to have a private chat. We’ll join you in a bit.”
Cypha’s eyes narrowed, as they flicked between Evantra and Noelle. A blush rose to Noelle’s cheeks as she saw the smirk that slowly stretched across the girl’s lips.
“No, it’s nothing like th—”
“Didn’t take you for one of those lovebirds, preacher,” she turned to Noelle. “We get them coming in here all the time, looking for a private place to romp.” The girl spat beside her. “As long as you don’t get crushed, I don’t give a Wendigo’s arse what you get up to. Have fun.”
Before either Noelle or Cypha could protest, Evantra dragged her quarry away from the bemused techrat, who began to climb a slope of scrap in search for components.
“Why didn’t you say anyth—”
“Better she thinks we’re here for a ‘romp’. It’s a misconception that serves us. If she catches wind of anything more interesting, we’d be in trouble. Now, what exactly did you see, in the sewers?”
Evantra watched Noelle carefully as she shifted.
“I saw you kill the first salamander. Claws grew out of your hands.” Noelle’s gaze dropped to her fingers, and when the girl went to meet her eyes, she abruptly broke away her gaze.
“A small quirk of my profession. Preachers get claws.”
“Can they also dissolve Veilcreatures with their blood—”
Crap.
“— and amplify the healing ability of nanotech treatment?”
Noelle’s piercing green eyes passed over expression, seeming to catch her momentary reaction.
“So, you do know something about it.”
Evantra mastered her expression and shrugged.
So, Noelle Laurent is talkative and an airhead… but she’s also pretty perceptive. She can be sharp when she wants to be.
Her thoughts returned to Noelle’s observation about her healing.
What those doctors were saying… my arm healed much quicker than it should have, even with the treatment that I received.
Evolving the magical girl system…
The brits made my abilities far more flexible than those of previous magical girls. If my assumptions are correct, I seem to be able to build different classes with discrete skills, which would give me the flexibility not afforded to previous magical girls, who cultivated a single class. I’m limited only by how many catalysts I can collect.
Then… there are the rituals.
On top of that, if my abilities can also interface with technology…
The possibilities were endless.
Evantra kept her outward expression impassive, even as her heartbeat began to thunder in her chest. Before she could get too excited however, she was instantly reminded of what the catch was.
The only problem is that in my current state, a single, stray teethling or bullet could end my life.
My potential won’t matter if I’m dead. What I need now, is someone who can provide me with information to mitigate risks, which will keep me alive. My main challenge is staying alive for long enough to acquire other catalysts, powerful skills, and the technology with which they can interface.
Thanks mum and dad… your carefully designed curriculum that omitted everything unholy has once again come back to bite me in the butt.
The only redeeming factor in all of this… is that the solution is staring right at me.
“W-what is it? Is there something on my face?”
Noelle stared at her, as Evantra’s cloudy, white eyes were fixed on her own.
Her intel on the salamanders was accurate.
Without it, I would have wasted my ammunition, expending it on their hides, and we’d both likely be dead.
“Noelle… you were right.”
“Huh?” The girl stared at Evantra. She ignored her look of confusion and continued.
“I do want to become a Ghostslayer. I could also use your help,” Evantra glanced around the corner, ensuring that Cypha was still busy at work and nowhere close to them. Noelle took an involuntary step back at Evantra’s words, her stare of confusion morphing to shock.
“I know that you’re far more informed on creatures of the Veil, the megacorporations, and technology than I am.”
The girl swallowed as Evantra continued, her tone clinical.
“I decide how much to disclose to you. If you pry, or try to spy on me, then our deal is off. You’ll get a cut of whatever I earn. 30%. I’m bearing most of the risk, being the one killing the creatures of the Veil. Take it or leave it.”
“O-of course. I agree. I just have one request.”
The girl shifted forwards hesitantly, then plucked something tiny from the underside of her haversack.
She planted a tracker on me.
Evantra tried to fight down a smile.
Now this, I can respect.
“Carmen told me that we should have some way of finding you. Especially after the last incident. Is this—”
“It’s fine. If you’re going to be my techie, I’ll at the very least have to trust you with my location.”
“O-of course. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. This is just a transaction.”
The girl froze, and Evantra watched Noelle’s expression twist. Noelle stared at her for another moment, searching her eyes before her face fell. She turned away and began walking back towards where Cypha was scavenging.
“You’re powerless, squishy, as an organic.”
Evantra raised an eyebrow towards Noelle’s turned back.
“Unless you become a corporate executive, millionaire, have a trust fund I don’t know about, or get a corporate or government ‘sponsorship’ that’s actually closer to indentured servitude...” Noelle let out a deep sigh. “Then cybernetics are a distant dream for you.”
“Are they really that far out of reach? I mean—”
“You haven’t checked the prices, have you.”
Evantra slowly shook her head, as Noelle turned back towards her, having gained a degree of confidence. She knew they were expensive and far out of her budget but didn’t know precisely just how far out of reach they were. Corporations didn’t exactly post their prices online for all to peruse.
“Cybernetics are extremely inaccessible. First, there’s the cost of installing them. If you don’t want it to be botched, you need a top-notch surgeon to implement them. Then, there’s the matter of the production of the cybernetics themselves. Megacorps are extremely cagey about the process of creating them, as you might imagine, and apart from the established producers, other corporations still haven’t been able to break into the market. The best ones are made bespoke – those give you the broken abilities that some Ghostslayers possess.”
Evantra didn’t have to think far back to identify one such example.
It was the reason Uriel had adopted the name that she had. Those signature glowing eyes of hers, Seraphim’s iconic optics, could kill with a single glance. She had effortlessly massacred the teethling swarm in the lecture hall without emitting a single sound. Of course, the underlying mechanics of just how she had achieved that remained a very well-kept secret. Ghostslayers kept their abilities as covert as possible – you never knew who wished to capitalise on your weaknesses.
“Your point being?”
Noelle’s expression had hardened, as she walked towards Evantra.
“It doesn’t matter what mysterious abilities you have. As you are, a stray bullet could kill you. We need to save up to purchase scouting equipment, to avoid what happened in the sewers. I don’t know how you were able to tell that there were creatures hiding out there, but you were clearly taken aback by those salamanders. We’ll need to get you all the stealth gear you can afford. A drone. Body armour. Stims. And there’s one more thing.”
Evantra raised an eyebrow.
“We’re going to start a chatgroup.”
