The Mercenary awoke, forced into consciousness by a blaring alarm, groggy, but eager to work for once. He found multiple messages from multiple people on his cell, reading through them as he ate his breakfast. Gunnar had made them all swear to keep it a secret, save them from having to deal with Puppet interfering, but that didn’t stop those that knew from wishing him luck. Of course each of them would be waiting for him at the great cargo doors anyway so there was no reason to send the messages.

Before he had time to finish what may be his last bowl of sweet recycled produce, there was a severe knock on the mercenary’s door. He looked between his mediocre bowl of Standard Crisp #1 and the door. When the second knock happened Gunnar sighed and threw his spoon into the bowl with a slosh and mild spillage. He stood and walked to the door, pressing it open.

Standing on the other side was none other than Walther’s most trusted employee, wearing a bemused stare. ‘Are you ready?’

Gunnar turned to look at his half eaten meal, he rolled his eyes to himself. ‘Yeah, one minute,’ Gunnar replied as he picked it up and emptied the rest into his bin. ‘Let’s go.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Gunnar spotted an old friend standing upon one of the old rusted rails above the Bloodsink. Mobius matched eyes with Gunnar and for a moment, showed a hint of confusion, watching him get in the back of Oswin’s vehicle. He had to think back as he was almost certain this was the first time he had seen the man confused. It may have even been the first hint of emotion on the man’s stony face. His neighbourhood was one of the few things he wouldn’t have to worry about on his trip, the Pact would have it handled.

The vehicle he stepped into was different from their usual van, it had an old and battered shell, with the most basic outer tech a vehicle could have, an ancient wreck basically. Vehicles were decently rare for Dwellers, so most that were around were ancient hand-me-downs from the city above. Clearly this one was just a disguise judging by the inside. It was truly luxurious, perhaps not on the same level as Walther’s previously mentioned surveillance van, but it was easily nicer than Gunnar’s home. Soft seats, relaxing music and free drinks with plenty of leg room.

Though that just made the mercenary feel all the more awkward for getting a ride in it. ‘I could’ve just walked you know?’

Oswin, sitting in the front, squeezed the steering wheel. ‘I said the same thing. Lord Walther insisted.’

Was the biggest boot licker in the city showing some resentment to Walther’s decision? Gunnar could not believe his ears. It was due to the nobles’ insistence in helping him, but still, it felt like progress.

The rest of the car ride was silent. Neither man had much to say to each other. They arrived with nary another word spoken to the top floor of the cargo access, its gargantuan doors locked shut. Oswin pulled up on the side of the road and pointed to the bottom of the ramp. ‘Lord Walthers down there. This old thing wouldn’t be able to get back up the ramp, so I’m not going.’

Gunnar looked down and spotted a few small bodies dotted around, a few of which were by a man sized door that led outside. It seemed likely that it was Walther. He had never been to the bottom floor before, never seen the famed cargo doors up close or the machines that ripped holes in the planet to keep their city working.

He began his descent, the level most Dwellers lived on still wasn’t the lowest, even a decent portion of the old tunnels were above ground level. Whole neighbourhoods existed underground, areas the militia and nobles would never bother with, safe, from those dangers at least, but living under the undercity had its own issues.

The underground communities mostly consisted of those that worked outside the city, those that called the cargo yard their home. They rarely interacted with the rest of the city, or with the mining towns outside, even though they often worked with them. Large enough was the cargo yard that an entire community was born and raised together. Whole generations taught to work and live with the machines. Perhaps it was the constant exposure to the blistering desert that caused them to live their lives in the darkest underground.

The mercenary arrived on the middle floor, where the Gospels pilgrims died not long ago. Even though it was practically the reason he stood there now, he had almost forgotten it, so much had happened since. Other than mild damage not a trace remained despite only being a few weeks ago.

Finally he began the last portion of the descent, down the stairs on the side of the ramp. Getting closer he spotted Walther talking to a certain pair of sisters. Even further along Aethel was just staring at the great doors.

First off, Kat noticed his approach, she waved a hand but didn’t project her usual upbeat energy. The other sister and Walther noticed him shortly after and then finally Aethelstan. ‘Nice lie in?’ Nati asked as he approached them.

‘It’s a big day. Needed my beauty sleep.’

Walther pulled his right hand out of his pocket and pointed a thumb at the door behind him. ‘Got an WSV waiting outside for you.’

’WSV?” Gunnar asked.

‘Wasteland Survival Vehicle. There’s budget ones too, but most are pricey vehicles built with the intention of protecting their occupants outside the city,’ he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small plastic card, it was white with various green rectangular patterns on it. ‘You’ll need this to get out of the city. It’s a pass, otherwise the defensive wall mounts will blast you to pieces.’

Gunnar hesitated and furrowed his brow. ‘The… The defenses?’

Walther looked surprised, then he looked at the other three to see their confusion as well. ‘Oh yes. I do apologise, dwel- The populace of the lower city rarely leave the Rings walls.’ The old noble turned a little and pointed at a glass window by the door. ‘That’s the command room, goes straight through the wall so they can see both sides. Someone inside controls the guns, if they don’t have a positive ID or a genuine pass, they get blasted to pieces.’

Oddly, the first thing to come to Gunnar’s mind was gratitude. He realised he never really questioned why no sun crazed cultists burst into the city flamers burning. ‘Well, it would be a tragedy if this face got shredded to pieces, so I’ll take that quite gratefully.’ He took hold of the card and put it into his deepest jacket pocket.

Walther snorted, covering his mouth quickly. He coughed and looked between the four others around him. ‘Ah. Perhaps I should let you four be.’ The noble bowed his head. ‘Pleasure,’ he said before walking towards a service lift by the wall.

When his employer was out of earshot Gunnar turned to his friends. The situation was an odd one. He wanted to say goodbye properly, but it would also feel a bit… Silly? He was only going to be gone a week, but none of them could predict what might happen during that week. If he squeezed them all in his arms would they view it as awkward, a bit over the top?

Aethel put a foot forward. He also looked of two minds. ‘Listen, Gunna-’

Gunnar wouldn’t let him finish. The mercenary pulled him into a hug, then used his other arm to grab the closest sister, Natalia, which worked out well as Kat was far more likely to join in with the hug herself. ‘Come on you lump of moron, let go of me,’ Nati complained, without resisting even a little.

The mercenary expected that response, he knew the sisters well enough, or at least, he thought he did. For whatever reason, Kat wasn’t joining the hug. ‘Kat, are you all good?’ He asked, causing the other two to turn around and look at her.

She had a worried expression on her face, completely zoned out and looking away. ‘Kat?’ Nati grasped her sister’s wrist who jolted out of it. ‘You good?’

Kat looked between them all blinking, her eyes welled up a little and she tried to hide her face. ‘Uh. Yeah, sorry. Just uh, a little worried I guess.’

Aethel and Nati both looked back to Gunnar. ‘Look what you did man,’ Aethelstan reprimanded his friend with hands on hips.

‘It’s not Gunnar’s fault. It’s gotta be done, right?’ Kat was turning away from the group now, but her sister pulled her back in. Clearly Kat didn’t want to get away that badly if Nati of all people was stopping her.

As the largest of the group, Gunnar pulled them all in close, though granted his arms didn’t really fit around Kat, but she stopped trying to escape, and joined in their horrifying expression of affection. So for a moment, they all just stood there.

There was silence for just a few seconds before one of the four spoke up. ‘This probably looks dumb as fuck from the outside.’ The muffled voice of Aethel escaped.

‘It feels dumb as fuck from the inside,’ Nati replied.

A quiet chorus of snickering and giggling burst from the huddle and Nati forced her way out of it. Aethelstan followed suit, then it was just Gunnar and Kat who was now buried in his chest. He looked around and saw his other two friends wearing sly smirks and quickly realised they planned this.

He could pull away, but he felt like that would be a bit cruel. For some reason Nati would occasionally try and set him up with Kat, whether she felt anything for him he didn’t know, but he always had a preference for an older woman which she was not.

Gunnar gently cleared his throat. ‘Uh. Kat?’

She pulled her head away, darting her eyes back and forth. Her cheeks flushed red. ‘Uh. Shit.’ She shot a knife-like glance at Natalia then pulled away entirely. ‘Sorry. Just. Gonna miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you too, alright?’ Gunnar smiled, causing Kat to punch his arm and laugh awkwardly before being dragged away by her sister.

Gunnar watched them walk off and witnessed the playful beating of Natalia. ‘You know it wouldn’t be a bad choice.’ He felt a hand on his shoulder.

‘Neither would be Edith Finch,’ he replied.

‘Uh no, that would be a terrible choice. Please do not try and date my boss again.’

The mercenary smirked and turned to his friend. ‘I can’t help how Edith feels about me.’

Aethel raised a brow. ‘She feels like you’re a pain in the ass and a bad influence on me.’

There wasn’t any room to argue. ‘You ever been out there?’ Gunnar changed the subject, looking at the cargo doors, which now towered over them so massively that he had to strain to look at the top.

He threw his hands in his pockets and flapped them a few times. ‘Hmm. Once that I can recall. Guarding a group of engineers fixing one of the external lifts used for turret repairs.’

‘Any advice?’

Aethel turned to his friend with a deadpan expression. ‘I was out there four a few hours, Gunnar. My advice is stay inside the machine your boss is giving you.’

An uncontrollable smirk found its way to Gunnar lips. ‘Stay safe, yeah?’

His friend met his eyes and swapped a scowl to an apprehensive smile. ‘I could say the same to you and uh… Thanks man, for doing this.’ He grabbed the Mercenaries hand and squeezed it between his own. Gunnar nodded once and squeezed back.

‘I’ll be back and this time with actual news,’ Gunnar replied letting go. He turned his head and waved at the sisters who were at the foot of the steps. ‘See you later ladies!’

Nati cupped her hands. ‘Fuck off!’ She replied with a sweet smile.

One last glance was exchanged between friends as Gunnar walked to the door. A man stood by it with a cellpad, so Gunnar got his new fancy card ready. ‘Hey I was told I nee-’

‘Yeah yeah, saw you with lord Walther, just remember the pass on the way back. Has a built-in sensor that’ll stop you ruining his nice vehicle.’

The man seemed busy and a little rude, but he did at least give a bit of solid advice on how not to die when entering the city. Gunnar shrugged and moved past him, swiping the card against the reader next to the small man sized side door, which rather paled in comparison next to their larger siblings. There were a series of clicks, then slowly it opened with a hydraulic whine, like a dog who wanted attention. Then, Gunnar took the first few steps outside the Rings wall in his life.

Blinding light was the first thing he saw, so technically he didn’t see much. That was advice Aethel could have given him, to go out with sunglasses on. The undercity was in perpetual dimness, so sunglasses were more of a fashion statement than anything, something to imitate nobles. Gunnar just liked that they hid his expression when he needed them to. Not that they didn’t look good on him, it was hard for him to look bad.

Another set of clicks signified that the door had closed behind him. The mercenary slipped his sunglasses on, but even then his eyes took a moment to adjust. He had seen the empty sky before, but not without walls restricting its majesty. It was… Endless. Wide, deeply blue and empty. Below it rested a great rust brown landscape, all sand and rocks and jotted machinery. Either side of him the huge wall hit the horizon and then just kept going. All he could do was try and take it all in and not fall back on his arse in shock.

The area directly outside the cargo doors was a little built up. A workers’ hut sat nearby with its own smaller set of automated defenses shaded against the wall. Around it was a large parking zone for various side vehicles, a few of which currently sat around, rusted or dusty.. An old metal gate sat segmented and rusted leading out of the parking zone to the half buried road beyond it. It seemed the cargo folk only bothered to maintain the area directly outside of the gate, which, given the size of the road network and the risks involved, was entirely fair.

Time passed by, how long, Gunnar didn’t know. It was an entirely different experience, standing out here as opposed to looking out the cargo doorway. Unfortunately, said time probably wasn’t on his side. He had already begun to feel anxious about being away from the city. Sure he could message the others whilst he was out here, but eventually he’d be beyond the range.

The apprehensive mercenary looked to the parking zone. There were not many vehicles outside of the rust buckets, a few workers trucks and just a couple of luxury looking big beastly wheelers, which must have been the noble’s private WSV’s. When you have all the power and shrapnel in the world, you need a hobby or two.

It would have been nice for Walther to have sent him a picture or to be told which vehicle was his. He pulled the odd disk-like key that his boss had given to him the day before, tracing his fingers over the brand name. Clementine. Gunnar looked back up and scanned the vehicles for any of the same brand and by a stroke of luck, found one.

In hindsight perhaps it should have been obvious. It was the only vehicle in the lot currently being serviced by a group of engineers. The Clementine was a big blocky machine, he’d known some mercenaries that had lived in entire flats smaller than this truck in front of him. Dark tinted windows and a desert coloured body with clean wheels, it still bore the mark of use with scars and dents along the skirting.

The engineers noticed Gunnar’s approach, they nodded in greeting before carrying on with their various tasks. One was checking the fuel, the other stocking the boot and another going over the engine. Finally a fourth overseeing bowed toward Gunnar. ‘Lord Vaen I assume, Lord Walther told us of your approach.’

Gunnar flinched. Lord Vaen was not something he enjoyed being called, it made his toes curl and body tense. Did Walther tell them to call him that to get back at him for getting involved in this silly journey to begin with?

He didn’t let his discomfort show. ‘How long til its ready to go?’

The man moved out of his way and presented the car to him. ‘It’s ready now m’lord. We have already double checked it, I just wished to check thrice just ta’ be safe.’

As he spoke the rest of the employees moved away and stood at attention nearby. They were organised and respectful. It made Gunnar’s skin crawl. ‘Alright then… I’d best be off.’ He took a deep breath and nodded at the engineer, tapping his shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ Gunnar smiled, removing his hand and walking past him.

‘Ahem,’ Gunnar stopped to look back at the man who stood with a professional smile and an outstretched hand.

‘Ah.’

The mercenary reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit stick of shrapnel, it held around five hundred on it. It was a decent tip, maybe not quite as high as a rich nobles tip, but not an amount anyone would complain about. Still… They triple checked the truck for him or so they claimed, that could save his life. Gunnar pulled out a second stick and placed both in the open palm. The man looked at his hand and smiled, calling the others to leave. Which hopefully meant it was enough.

Gunnar arrived at the driver’s side door and presented the keydisk. There was a buzz and a low clunk, which he could only assume meant the door was now unlocked. He pulled the handle causing the door to hiss open. He was hit by clean, but quite stale air. The door was sealed tight, helpful to keep all the dust and dangers out. There were two seats at the front, with a large enough gap in between them to stand. The mercenary climbed in to have a look at the rest of the Clementine.

It was truly like a small flat inside. There was just enough room to stand, well, maybe not quite for him save at the front. Behind the chairs, two wardrobe sized rooms held a toilet and a shower respectively. At the back was a double bed which was shorter than your average, but large enough to comfortably sleep in. Against one wall sat a work surface to make food on, including a stove top. On the other a deskpad hooked up to a games console and a few neatly packed games and vods.There was just enough walking room outside of all this to exercise and generally not go completely stir crazy.

Somehow it only just dawned on Gunnar that he was going to be mostly stuck in here for around a week. He never had a problem with spending time at home, but it was different when he didn’t have a choice. Sure he could take a walk outside, but he’d rather feel a little stuffy than get murdered by a bunch of sun worshippers.

The mercenary turned back to the front and made sure that both of the front doors were locked, then, he picked up the user manual Walther had left for him on the front passenger seat, a small screen that wasn’t quite as powerful as a normal pad, but it didn’t need to be, given that it just existed to give instruction.

Gunnar skimmed it, he had days to read through it properly, all he needed to do right now was set up its automated system. Walther said that it was already programmed to go to Guilders Rise which meant that all he had to do was… ‘Oh deary. Activate automated journey to Guilders Rise.’

‘Acknowledged. Plotting course now,’ there was a beep and a boop, then the vehicle pulled itself out of the parking space and turned around, driving towards the main road. A very odd experience.

For whatever reason Walther had set the private pass code as “oh deary”. For all Gunnar knew, he had only just set it before he arrived to purposefully try and embarrass him. It wasn’t something he would say without a proverbial knife to the throat. Finally though, he was truly on the way.

The mercenary sank into the driver’s seat for the first small leg of the journey. Maybe eventually he would grow tired of the scenery, but for now he was a toddler with the first view of the world. There was even a naive wide eyed glee to him at that moment. His heart skipped a beat every time he saw something new.

Rows of shanty houses built into the rocks surrounding the road, various strange pieces of mining machinery scattered along the roadside and in dips and early mines. He saw a few roads leading to now defunct mines or failed towns and even the occasional vehicle passing by, some eyeing up his ride, probably considering the pros and cons of trying to steal such a fancy looking piece of machinery..

Eventually the cliffs and jagged peaks surrounding this particular section of the wall began to fade in favour of more open terrain. Which Gunnar only found even more fascinating. An ocean of wasteland. He could see more groups of rocks, signs of massive mining projects and machinery that would tower over most of the scenery.

The road had now opened up too, the Clementine was allowed to pick up speed as they were approaching the open vehicle paths with very few other machines around. Somehow, the ride quality had barely changed. Gunnar had been the passenger in vehicles within the city walls that were rougher than this truck in the middle of a desert.

It was when they passed by the third great abandoned mining town that Gunnar decided to change his view a little. He crawled through the Clementine until he sat at the back, looking back at the city he had left behind a few hours ago.

There wasn’t much to see at this point, a few tips of the wall to be glanced between the rocky cliffs he had shortly before driven through. Other than that the only identifying factors were the great spires of the nobles, including the Great Torch, the crowning jewel of Juniper City’s noble landscape. The place that was once rumoured to house the Grand Authority itself.

He decided to look around the truck once again now he was fully underway, and didn’t want to overexpose himself to the scenery and grow bored of it halfway. Looking around the back, each window was tinted, completely hiding what was inside, but also helping stop the sun from burning his pale flesh and driving him insane. On top of that, Gunnar had just noticed the polyplastic blinds on each window. A place that was forever blinding light made a poor bedfellow.

Whilst he was playing with the blinds, Gunnar took one last look at the Ring as it finally began to fade away. Outside of Juniper City there were two other locations that were still within vision, so grand their scales were. To its west was the great tower known as Callipso, which was the only spire in the entire town also known as Callipso. They had some legends that said the Grand Authority called the tower its first home, but it was probably just a way for the few nobles in the town to garner attention.

Far to the east, but still visible, stood the mighty industrial powerhouse known as Huld, the city Juniper City stood on the edge of war against. Huld was famed for its weapon manufacturing and general industry. Of course that meant that their own working class suffered plenty. Constantly choked by smog or swallowed by great machinery, if anything they probably had it worse, or at least more painful.

Hanging above the city the great airship Hogfard hovered, the crowning achievement of Huld. They had a few airships, mostly privately owned or sold to rich nobles in other cities, but Hogfard was a city owned beast. Multitudes of plasma charged cannons, state of the art navigation system and then even luxury accommodation on the higher decks. It was a war machine built to house the rich. If the two cities ever did come to blows, it would be their greatest advantage.

Juniper City’s greatest advantage was ironically the gang culture there. Sure, plenty of gangs and their posse’s could be found in other cities, but most of the powerful gangs were born within Juniper’s walls. Also the oddly sustained power and endless war of the gangs gave birth to a strong mercenary culture too. Most would rise to protect the city, so on top of the nobles’ usual private military, any invaders would have to deal with skilled mercenaries and an ocean of gangers.

Gunnar watched the cities fall below the horizon line, leaving just a couple of towers standing and Hogfard. He thought about the future, the war that might occur. Even if Puppet was to be defeated, killed, or slaughtered. Even if their crimes were revealed, the damage had already been done. Huld was never fond of Juniper City and they had many skirmishes before, so there was every chance that they had been itching for a reason. Gunnar hoped that they would prefer peace.

He turned back around and fell against the window, lazily leaning over to pull the blinds across. The mercenary began to plan how he would fill his time. He was so used to having to live day to day, he honestly didn’t know what to do with three days completely free. Well, not completely free, he wasn’t at home, he couldn’t visit the Barrel or go to a shooting range for example. Perhaps a lot of sleep was the answer? Authority knows he barely got enough sleep, maybe it was about time for him to catch up on some.

With very little deliberation, the mercenary shrugged and began to close up the rest of the blinds, taking another look at the world flying by as he did. The biggest surprise was the plant life. The occasional vehicle wreck or set of skeletons were not surprising, if anything they were expected, but the greenery, that was another story.

The world out here was supposed to be dead, burning constantly especially the further you rode out, the only reason to come out was to hide or get at the vast resources ground up over millennia and hidden in the sands. So, seeing plant life was certainly a surprise. Spiny red cylinders sticking out of the ground, he believed they were called cactus? Tall and odd looking. About twice the height of a human at full size and almost as thick. They were purple with hundreds of tiny spines. Somehow they were able to grow and thrive without rain or proper nutrients. It was hard enough to grow plants in the city, how they survived out here he didn’t understand. He also didn’t understand why they weren’t utilised for food and material. Maybe they were poisonous.

As the last blinds closed, the inside grew dark, with just a few blades of light cutting through gaps, occasionally strobing as the blinds rocked and shook from gentle bumps in the road. Gunnar fell into the bed, immediately feeling a mix of anger and comfort. Anger, because this was the most comfortable damn bed he had slept in for a very long time and comfort as this was the most comfortable damn bed he had slept in for a very long time.

It didn’t take long at all for him to drift off, with the slow rocking of the Clementine over a stony road and the rhythmic growling of the engine, it was just a matter of time. He wasn’t even that tired before he set off, but the mercenary found himself far too laid back. Even the musty stench of recycled air didn’t hold back the sleep.

Only a few hours later, Gunnar woke from his power nap. It was probably too much to expect to sleep the whole way through this trip given the fact that he wasn’t really even tired. He had hoped he would have slept a little longer.

The mercenary pulled down a few of the blinds, but not too many, as he was rather enjoying the relaxed dark and privacy. It looked as though the Clementine had just brought them out of the great mountain range surrounding this section of the ring. He had been through a few open areas earlier, but this was the first location that was completely open in front of him. It did make him wonder how they found more mountain ranges or valleys to mine into because he couldn’t see a damn thing anywhere other than behind him.

Even the corpses and wrecks had stopped, there was nothing out there even for the bandits and sun worshippers. The only sound was the engine’s stable beat and the only sight was endless desert. It was silent, completely silent. No gunshots, no screams, no hustle or bustle. He was so excited earlier he didn’t even notice.

It was a strange feeling. Gunnar couldn’t tell if it made him comfortable or extremely uncomfortable. Even in his house with thick walls and an industrial door it was never completely silent. That was just how the city was.

It was something he would need to ease into. So, the mercenary looked around for a music player, just for some sort of noise. There was one behind the front seat, for some reason. Gunnar turned it on and quickly felt calmer. It wasn’t quite home, but it was something.

He threw some canned synth meat onto the stove top and leant against the Clementine’s wall next to it, pulling out his cell. He had received no messages yet, save for a simple message from Kat that just wished him good luck. It was sent just after he had left. Gunnar typed a quick thank you reply and asked her to keep him updated on anything that may happen, then placed the cell on the countertop next to him.

When his food was ready, he put a vod on his cell to watch whilst he ate. The vehicle must have had something to improve his connection, as it hadn’t diminished even this far out. After he finished, Gunnar threw everything into the small sink next to the stove and looked back outside the window. Still empty, yet, somehow, still quite beautiful.

His eyes began to grow heavy once again, though this time around it was at the right time for it. So, Gunnar closed the blinds and hopped into the overly soft bed. Letting sleep take him. This was to be day one over and Gunnar had already begun to understand what drove the sun worshippers mad.

Though, a full sleep seemed unlikely, as after just another few hours Gunnar was woken in a panic by his cell buzzing. He quickly grabbed it and opened to the message that had alerted him. Only to immediately fall stone faced.

Kat had sent him a picture of her and her sister at Olive’s shooting range. It was her throwing up peace signs with her arm around Nati who was pouting. Behind them the score showed that Nati still sat in third place but had improved her score to just behind Philosophy’s, from 422 to 428. Her target sat at 430 exactly so she probably found it quite irritating.

Next to the shooting ranges scoreboard sat the obstacle courses. Kat herself had managed to run her way up to sixth place in the obstacle course and her joy was evident. As annoying as it was to be woken in an unfounded panic, Gunnar still liked the picture. Though it did also motivate him to go back to the obstacle course as soon as he returned to the city.

His cell buzzed again as Kat sent a message after. She told him that Nati had improved her time in the obstacle course too, but she was pouting because she still wasn’t in the top twenty let alone the top ten. To be honest, as he wasn’t in the top twenty for either Gunnar had little empathy for his friends pouting.

He asked the sisters what the situation was like over there and after a minute they sent a short paragraph back. Apparently it was peaceful. Worryingly peaceful. Even the Undercity Front had less work. Gunnar didn’t feel any more relaxed after seeing the message. Well, maybe a little, at least they weren’t in immediate danger.

After a quick reply and a stretch, the mercenary poured himself some cereal and opened the blinds. After so long in the dark, he felt the strength of the sun even more. Even with the air conditioning and built-in cooling, he felt it, like an ever present sting on his cheeks.

Gunnar ate his breakfast and watched the world again. Meandering around the truck for the rest of the day. There was little new to see, but as time began to circle the Clementine finally came to a change of scenery, one he was actually excited by when he first spotted it some hours previous.

A fork in the road. One way carried on through the desert, with a canyon in the distance, the other led to a valley with large machinery and a few buildings poking out of it. He saw a few guards sitting inside an armoured shack at the entrance alongside a couple of turrets. Scattered amongst the rocks around them were various corpses and cannibalised vehicles. One had a mural on the side, depicting a screaming sun. It must have been the sun worshippers he had heard so much about, dead and ruined in front of this particular mine.

They hadn’t tried anything with him yet, but he was in a very clearly expensive and heavily armoured machine, even the warped would think twice about attacking such a beast. Gunnar also knew it had been built in defense as he had continued reading through the manual. Not much else he could do.

Still, with that being the highlight of his day, the second day of travelling came to an end. Just one more day and he would reach the halfway mark, Guilders Rise. Gunnar still had no idea what he would find, he had no idea if it would even help, but regardless, he had to find out and it wouldn’t be long until he did.