Vaelith sighed, blunt as ever.„I'm heading to Central. I'll coordinate with Cyrene," she said. „If something goes to shit…"She paused briefly. „You'll hear my voice first."
Cain put his headset on without comment.
Agito raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Vaelith just shook her head.
"Great. Let's get this shitshow on the road."
Agito slipped his on and flashed a crooked grin over his shoulder.
"I'll keep talking so you won't miss me."
"We'll talk when you get back in one piece," Vaelith replied. "Not planning to stitch your ass back together in my garage again."
The engine howled to life, filling the courtyard with a deafening roar and choking fumes.
Zero lunged forward, claws tearing into the ground, kicking up dust and steam. Cain's bike screamed into action right beside him, tires spinning, sparks flying as it tore through the darkness.
Within moments, Exilium shrank behind them, city lights dissolving into the swirling rage of the storm as they plunged deeper into the wasteland.
Dust and wind erased their tracks within seconds, as if they'd never been there at all.
In their ears, only the buzz of the comms remained.
The desert greeted them like a bad memory—wind hissing through the wreckage like whispered curses.
Shards of shattered solar panels glinted faintly through the haze like teeth in a half-forgotten skull.
Ancient pylons rose from the sand like broken bones, cables fluttering like dead banners. They passed ruined structures, half-swallowed by the dunes—skeletons of civilization, frames still humming faintly with lost current.
Paint peeled in long, brittle flakes. Static crackled in the air. Somewhere, something buzzed without rhythm.
Metal twisted under the weight of time and ash. Old signs in dead languages clung to bent poles like warnings no one remembered.
The line buzzed in Agito's ear.
"I heard things are getting worse out here," Cain said over the comm. "We should be careful."
"If I'd stayed in the bar," Agito replied, "I wouldn't have to."
A brief silence.
"We're heading to the Nomads."
Cain's stare went cold.
"The hell for? You know they hate mutants."
"That's exactly why we need them," Agito answered, his voice dripping with smug amusement. "We need a guide. Someone who knows this desert better than we do."
The comm crackled abruptly. A familiar voice exploded into the line—cold, clipped, and pissed off.
"Cain. Agito. Have you two completely lost your fucking minds?!"
Cyrene.
"You left without backup? Without a report?!"
Cain replied casually, "Didn't have time for the paperwork."
"No time?!" she barked out. "Do you think you're immortal?!"
Agito chuckled. "I missed your voice."
A sharp, almost electrical hiss followed.
"If you die out there, even the vultures'll starve. And if you come back…"
Her voice dropped to a growl.
"I'll kill you myself."
Silence followed.
Agito sighed dramatically. "She loves me."
Cain grunted.
"That's what 'I love you' sounds like in Cyrene-speak."
They rode in silence for a while, only the roar of engines and hiss of sand filled their ears.
Then Cain asked, quieter this time:
"That wolf. Where'd you get it?"
Agito's voice shifted—a rare hint of memory creeping in.
"Five years ago. I was on an op with Korven."
Cain blinked.
"Korven?"
"Yeah. We were sweeping an old hospital up north. Place was trashed. Blood everywhere. Thought it was a waste of time… until I heard a whimper. A puppy. Wargheister breed. Barely alive."
He paused.
"Korven wanted to put it down. Mercy. But… I took it. Dragged it back. Gave it to Vaxtor and Cyrene. A few tweaks later, and the pup turned into a walking war crime."
Cain exhaled slowly.
"You? Sentimental? Never would've guessed."
Agito's tone flattened.
"Shut up."
They kept moving.
The sky above remained iron-gray, heavy with remnants of the storm. The wind had calmed, but the air felt too still. Wrong.
In the distance—faint flickers of light. A fire.
As they crested the next dune, the Nomad settlement revealed itself.
A fortress of scrap and survival—twisted sheets of metal, car wrecks, rusted towers cobbled together with sand and prayer. A spotlight cut through the darkness from a watchtower, locking onto them with unblinking precision.
"Halt!" came a voice. "What's your business?"
Agito squinted into the glare.
"It's me, you blind fuck. Stop shining in my face!"
Brief silence.
"Agito? Fine. You can come in. But the mutant and that ugly-ass beast stay behind."
Agito glanced at Zero, lips twitching with amusement.
"You hear that, buddy? Looks like it's just you and… this thing."
Cain shot him a glare, already done with the jokes.
"You serious?"
"Sorry, Cain," the voice said. "Rules are rules."
Agito's voice turned sharp with annoyance.
"We're not here for drinks. We're here on business. We go in together."
Another pause.
"…Fine. Just because it's you. But if that thing makes one wrong move, we paint the walls with it."
Cain muttered, "Good to know the old crew's still so welcoming."
"They're Nomads," Agito said. "What'd you expect?"
As they entered, Cain felt the weight of a hundred stares. Fear. Disgust. He kept his hands loose at his sides, but he was ready. Always ready.
Two guards near the gate exchanged looks—and one reached slowly for his weapon.
A cold whisper slipped into Agito's ear.
"Right side."
He growled without turning.
"Don't even think about it. You'll lose the hand."
The Nomad froze, fingers hovering.
CLANG.
A heavy door slammed open.
Footsteps echoed. Solid. Measured.
Korven emerged—a king forged by sand and war, eyes black and unreadable.
"Agito," he said finally. "Been a while."