Lowston – Part 2

As Lowston shrank beneath me, a patchwork of rust, grime, and chaotic color, my pulse raced. Tech-scavenger Flick, notorious for her escapades, was now a helpless marionette, yanked skyward by the very GravBoots she’d crafted herself. This wouldn’t be so bad if I could just enjoy the view.

My GravBoots, marvels of kitbashing, had always been reliable – until now. The deceleration caps, the fail-safe, were no doubt sprawled across the grimy streets below, indistinguishable from the city’s habitual detritus.

“Perfect,” I murmured, squinting against the wind, trying to estimate my trajectory and potential landing spots. High-tech cityscape to the west, Marshes to the east… neither option was enticing. But being trapped aloft was even worse. As beautiful as the view was, space was no playground for a human, especially not in rogue GravBoots.

I glanced into my tech bag, the stolen hyperlight part gleaming mockingly. It was a small yet potent piece that could potentially save my boots and, by extension, me if I could just…

Suddenly, a metallic blur whipped past me.

“Hyper-racers!” I gasped, adrenaline surging. They cut through the sky like shooting stars, their bodies glinting in the sunlight. Hyper-racing may have bypassed Lowston, but that didn’t deter the racers from treating our airspace like their personal training ground.

A dangerous idea sparked in my mind. If my timing was impeccable, I could use one of the hyper-racers to descend. It was a gamble, but then again, wasn’t everything I did?

I rummaged in my tech bag and retrieved my grav-gauntlet, another kitbashed masterpiece. Its function was simple yet effective – latch onto any metallic surface. In this case, a speeding hyper-racer.

Inhaling deeply, I waited for the opportune moment. As another racer neared, I activated the grav-gauntlet, reaching out…

The ensuing force nearly dislocated my shoulder, but my gambit paid off. I was now a human kite, tethered to a hyper-racer, the wind screaming in my ears.

I shot a glance downwards. Citadel Central. My heart pounded against my ribs. I needed to release soon, or I’d be stranded in the high-tech city, a place I wanted to avoid at all costs.

As the racer began its descent, I slowly eased my grip. The ground rushed to meet me. I braced for impact, praying that my GravBoots could mitigate my fall.

With a bone-jarring thud, I landed in a nondescript alleyway in Citadel Central. I exhaled, relief washing over me. That was far too close.

“Alright, Flick,” I muttered, gathering my bearings, “time to navigate back to Lowston.” I rose, dusted myself off, and prepared to delve deeper into my adventure.

Let’s hope I don’t run into Kaj again…