Milton Keynes, a wonderous, new city. Until it wasn’t.

The whole city turned into a dead zone. The inhabitants disappeared. However, a few brave souls still venture into the city to find treasure. This is the tale of one of those adventures. The tale of Ligart Ironheart.

The city centre holds the treasure – well, that’s the story the travellers say, when they pass through Ligart’s encampment. He wonders to himself what this treasure is as he walks through the city. Tall buildings stand in ruins, rusted car bodies litter the streets. Colonies of moss dot the buildings. Then the centre comes into view. Broken and unbroken glass panels line a metal skeleton. The taller bastions dwarf it, yet the centre still seems so big. Hair-like vines flow in the air atop the roof. The door to the building lies open.

Ligart walks into the new world. Midsummer Place lies silent. Litter lines an open area, where once there was an upside-down house. Paths on both sides beckon him closer. Ligart stands, looking each way. He closes his eyes and lets his feet decide which way to go. Right.

Ligart pushes his way through smashed glass doors that lead into a smaller building. Roof lights hang from the ceiling by a few wires, and shop fronts lie empty. Ligart turns right on another junction, then stops. His eyes freeze. A seven-foot tall robot rummages through a bin with is long, blade-like fingers.

Ligart slowly walks backwards, not knowing he’s about to hit a bin. It crashes to the ground, sending echoes through the empty halls of the large building. The robot snaps its neck up like an animal and
stares at Ligart for a few seconds, its jet-black eyes burning through his soul.

The robot runs. It scrambles across the floor towards Ligart like a hungry beast. It lets out an ear-shattering scream, and Ligart runs. He scampers across debris, not looking back. He hears the scratching of the robot’s skeletal metal fingers on the floor as it gets closer to him. Just as the robot is about to reach out with its skinny, ghostly arm, Ligart dives into one of the shops.

He hides behind one of the many knocked-over shelves and hears the robot come into the building. The thing glides through the shelves phantom-like, letting out grunts. Then the noises stop, and so does Ligart’s heart.

The robot’s eyes lock onto Ligart through a hole in the shelves. It crashes through and Ligart scurries away towards the back door, but something catches his eyes – it’s the treasure! As the robot pushes the shelves aside and runs towards Ligart, he snatches the treasure and runs through the door into the open world, locking it behind him. He huffs and puffs whilst the robot bangs against the door, and looks down at his treasure: a postcard of concrete cows.