Aethelstans cell was silent for a whole day after their call, to say he was shocked would be a major understatement. Gunnar was worried, obviously, but he knew his friend well enough to know he needed time to process everything he had been told. To be honest so did Gunnar, he hadn’t had time to process either. There was also the mild anger he had thrown his way thanks to not even giving Devon a swift kick in the nads.

They discussed what to do, albeit briefly, Gunnar wanted to tell the sisters, to tell Walther, but he was going to be patient, to wait for Aethel’s approval. To no surprise Aethel asked for time to think through things, he needed something to direct his anger at and needed to decide what to do with the fact that he would likely be their best weapon against Puppet. It’s a lot to take in for anyone.

Gunnar did have to update Walther with something though, so he had simply told him that he met Devon and that he got some information but didn’t know if it would be useful yet. Walther replied with a simple thumbs up, but did proceed to let him know the current situation of the city, which still stood teetering on a tense edge.

The journey back for the first few days had been no different from the journey up, albeit now he waited for signs of the Ring in the distance. Even though he didn’t take a single break coming to Guilders Rise, Gunnar had no intention of taking one on the way back either. Not like he wasn’t in luxury within the vehicle anyway, getting out of the intense heat was one of its greatest features. Fortunately he also felt quite a bit less tense than he did earlier, sometimes you get so many slaps to the brain that it eventually just tumbles back into normalcy.

In fact, over the return journey Gunnar found himself quite relaxed. Even when he eventually heard back from Aethel. The man had still barely calmed down, but he was at least in a talking mood again. He let out a lot of anger at his precinct’s low budget gun range. For now, Aethel still wanted everything kept between them and thanked his friend for coming to him first.

A few messages were exchanged with the sisters who were simply eager to get their friend back from the deadly desert and regular updates from his boss about the state of the city. All was well right up until it wasn’t.

It happened just as the Ring honed back into view. As the Clementine veered into a small clutch of rocks barely recognisable as a mountain. In the middle of the path sat a roadblock, intentionally placed of course, one that most definitely wasn’t there on his way up. It spanned the entire road between two tall walls. The Clementine refused to move beyond it. It was some kind of barbed wire, even with the truck’s tough body, would its wheels survive that? Possibly, but he’d have to get out to move it regardless.

Out of the left front window, shaded by a great rock, sat an old long abandoned settlement built into the stone wall, similar to several Gunnar had driven past. Certainly, this was clearly a trap. Maybe someone spotted him on the way up, so assumed he would come back eventually, or perhaps it was a complete coincidence. Still, he couldn’t see a single human yet, but there would no doubt be a few hidden amongst the rotted homes. His only hope was that they would lose interest when they glimpse a single man in a single vehicle. It seemed likely that the opposite would happen though,

Gunnar shook his head and pulled out his weapon, slowly opening the door as the Clementine rang out a quiet alarm to warn him of the barbed wire. His eyes darted between the sparse rocks around him and the nearby settlement. The mercenary made it to the wire and knelt down next to it, moving one section off the road.

He moved to another and moved that, feeling his heart pound as he tried to watch for any signs of movement. Then when he reached the next, a glare of light reflecting off of the bar holding the wire rang his warning bells. The experienced mercenary dived behind the truck as a single powerful shot echoed throughout the surroundings, blasting the bar it hit into two.

The shot was immediately followed by yelling, screaming. No orders, no order whatsoever. The ambush may have been planned, but not much beyond. Still, it was a cacophony, far more than one or two bandits.

Gunnar glanced over the bonnet to spot a few dozen half-starved maniacs charging at him, most held rusted knives or makeshift mauls. A few held crusted ancient guns. Their eyes were wide, their irises nearly burnt out. They were diving out of the shattered windows and doors, some behind rocks and walls. Another shot clipped his hair as he dived back behind his cover.

The Clementine had its defenses, for one it was bullet proof for the most part. Depended on the power behind said bullet. Either way for the split few seconds he had to think it was the best defense, especially when the rest of the echoing bullets began to hit the bonnet and door nearby.

Gunnar opened the door gently and fumbled for a button hidden near the steering wheel, just out of the way enough that you couldn’t accidentally hit it. Auto defense mode, it seemed like it would be necessary right now.

The truck buzzed as its roof opened, moving the sides apart and dropping each one down the side of the vehicle. Four small turrets popped up in each corner and opened fire on the charging crowd. It had gotten quite loud now, and Gunnar wasn’t about to be left out. The mercenary leaned out the side, near the wire and opened fire, though a dozen had already been cut down. In fact their number had been halved from the turrets alone.

Whilst the survivors were distracted running behind rocks or dropping dead, the mercenary tapped a semi hidden compartment behind the front seat footwell, holding a series of grenades. Walther was a paranoid man, he had plenty of hidden weapons in the Clementine.

He rolled a few in his hands looking between each one, finally throwing a flash grenade over the hood of the truck. After a second and a few screams the telltale pop-like explosion sounded out, then, another series of wild shots as the disorientated bandits flayed about in confusion.

Gunnar ducked around the back of the truck, noticing a few more dead that had almost reached his location. He dropped a few more that were just at a poor angle for the turrets then looked up to fire a spray at a few trying to escape into the buildings further away. He watched them drop dead before a flash of light alerted him to danger, causing him to dive back behind the armoured wall as a sniper shot pinged off its edge.

Waiting a few seconds, the mercenary peaked round, looking up into the buildings. His eyes darted until they settled on one mostly intact window where the bottom right corner kept flashing. Gunnar fired a few potshots at it then ran forward towards the wall of rocks. Another shot barely missed his legs, gathering a small cloud of dust near the mercenary’s feet. Eventually his luck would run out and he still had a lot of distance to make.

Only a handful of his attackers remained, and most had grown wise to the truck’s turrets. The smell of iron and gunpowder grew in strength in the wind. One fool tried to take out one of the turrets, but her bullets simply ricocheted off its tough frame. Gunnar thought about disabling them now that they had done their job. He didn’t want them all dead, he wanted at least one alive, though what for he wasn’t sure yet. His best choice was the sniper as the turret’s sensors didn’t reach that far.

The mercenary took one of the grenades he had pocketed earlier, a burster grenade, it was designed to explode into dozens of fragments that would burst in all directions. He spotted a group of survivors behind a vehicle wreckage halfway to the closest stairs into the settlement. With a decent throw, the burster hit its target.

One seemed to notice, scrambling to grab it, but it triggered in his hand, the brief scream from the loss of his entire forearm was cut short when a dozen fragments of metal shot through his face shredding it to pieces. The other three didn’t fare much better. Gunnar hadn’t seen a burster in action before, it didn’t make him feel great.

There were few breathing bodies left, most had retreated behind the false safety of barely held together walls and rusted houses. Gunanr guessed the sniper was using an ancient rifle, they were slow to fire but each shot could blow a human limb clean off. Though it was just a guess, it was enough for him to formulate a somewhat risky plan. He baited another shot by diving out behind his rock and sliding towards the other side of the rock he bloodied seconds ago. Just as predicted, another shot chipped the stone not far from his head.

With not a second wasted Gunnar sprinted towards the buildings, he could already see the panic coming from the sniper’s nest, there were also a few more bandits fleeing, running in whatever direction they could find. One jumped at him with a jagged knife, or a half broken machete to be more accurate. He dodged, though took a cut through the fat of his upper arm, losing the top layer of skin plus a little more. Gunnar winced and quickly fired a few shots behind him without stopping. It didn’t matter if he finished the assailant off right now, there was one target that was far more important.

The target in question slammed their door shut as Gunnar reached it, hastened yelling coming from inside, damn near incomprehensible. The mercenary peaked through the broken window, pulling his head away as fast as it arrived as a bullet pinged off the railing right where it had just sat. He bared his teeth. ‘Surrender and I won’t force that gun up your arse and pull the fuckin’ trigger!’

‘No way I’m trusting that!’ the panicked voice inside yelled back.

Gunnar sighed thinking it was understandable, perhaps that was too cruel of a threat to be listened to. He pulled a pin on the second to last flash grenade he had and darted it through the window crack.

A bang rang out. Then a yelp, and finally the sound of falling clutter. Gunnar kicked the door down to find the man cowering in the corner, covering his eyes with one hand and waving a pistol around with the other. The mercenary tackled him, knocking the gun from his hand as a few shots burst through the thin walls. The bandit tried to fight, but was far too disorientated to put up a decent one.

‘Fine, I yield, I fuckin’ yield, don’t kill me man, fuckin’ please!’ He screamed as he fell to his knees, hands behind his back.

The mercenary rolled his eyes then sat on the man’s back, who grunted and whimpered. He pulled a rough shot of rope from one of his belt pouches and tied the man’s hands together, tightly. ‘For a bastard happy to take life you seem awful keen to keep yours,’ Gunnar growled.

His opponent grew quiet save for a few whimpers, the rest of the bandits had scattered. Gunnar looked through the window to see the one that had taken some of his flesh crawling towards a rock, slowly bleeding out. He thought about it, and fired one shot into the back of the man’s skull, causing his new friend to cry out.

Now that he had a second, Gunnar looked over the man he captured. There were symbols on his clothes and said clothes were ripped and blood splattered. From what rumours he had heard of them these were clearly sun worshippers, but that didn’t make sense. The sun worshippers he had heard of wouldn’t run from death, or cry from it, they were driven completely mad and believed death sent their souls into the sun’s eternal warmth, or something along those lines.

Gunnar grunted. He picked up the fraud and threw him against the wall. ‘Wh-what are you doing!? My arms are tied, I can’t even fight back!’ The mercenary slapped the man who whimpered. This was starting to feel like bullying.

He waited for a few seconds, gripping the man’s face to lock eyes with him. The man’s eyes slowly came back into focus from the flash grenade, they were wide, staring straight back into Gunnars. ‘Why did you attack me?’

His breathing sounded ragged and sweat poured from every pore, it wasn’t only the heat causing it. ‘Look man, we just wanted your car, it looked real fancy.’ He grinned and bounced his head rapidly, begging for approval.

Gunnar slapped him again and threw him against another wall. ‘Why are you dressed as sun worshippers?’

His opponent spat out a little blood. ‘Fuck, man! Just a way our gang gets away with not getting any of the miners after us, they just blame the nutters.’

That one was probably true. He punched the man’s gut, who keeled over cursing. ‘So you can be honest.’

The bandit rolled around on the ground. ‘So. . . Why . . Fuckin, punch me?’

Gunnar paced around. ‘Good point.’ He picked the man up again and held him against the wall, pulling his gun to his chin. ‘Hopin’ it’ll bridge the gap between us and you’ll throw a little more truth my way.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about I fuckin’ swear!’

A bullet ripped through the man’s foot who stumbled and fell screaming. He couldn’t reach for his missing toe, or even hold his leg. ‘Bullshit. This wasn’t a normal ambush, no way you’d throw this many goons at one noble’s truck. Tell me why you ambushed me or the next one goes through your kneecap.’

The man looked up at Gunnar through bloodied and gritted teeth. His rapid deep breaths stirred up the dust and debris along the floor. There were a few groans and stutters before he finally loosed a word. ‘F-Fine. I’ll tell you alright?’ He tried to turn around to sit up, so Gunnar gave him some help, throwing him against nearby furniture to face him. ‘Bastard!’ The bandit growled. ‘Fuck! Alright. Alright. . .I don’t want to be crippled for the rest of my damn life.’ Gunnar frowned at that statement. Maybe bandits couldn’t afford cybernetic surgery.

He took a deep breath. ‘We got approached when we were smuggling some nasty shit into the city, fucked up plants that can only grow in the Sunlands that the Thyrsus Society loves to turn into brain blazers. I was on the platform that we used to get into the city when some cloaked guy started talking to us from the shadows. Guy must’ve been stood on a box or something otherwise he was one fucked up mutant, towered over us.’

Well, if he needed proof there it was. Gunnar hurriedly pulled his cell from his pocket and dialled Aethel’s number. His friend picked up after a few seconds causing Gunnar to breath out, he didn’t even realise he was holding his breath. ‘Gunnar?’

‘Aethel, are you alright? Where are you?’ He spoke quickly, barely holding on to the words that fell from his lips.

Aethel chuckled nervously on the other side. ‘Calm down man, what’s up?’

Gunnar breathed in and tried to steady himself. ‘Shit man. I think Puppet knows. Bastard paid some bandits to ambush me, probably gonna go after Devon next or something. How the fuck did they even know I was out here?’

There was silence now, just lasting moments. ‘So it was that monster that went after my family?’

‘Gotta be the case right? The question is why said monster hasn’t come after you.’

Suddenly, Gunnar felt a cold chill and a presence that hadn’t been felt moments prior. ‘I could explain it to you, if you like.’

Of course. Of course the beast was here. Gunnar turned his head slowly, inevitably. He already knew who it was, what it was, he had heard that voice too many times now. It was Puppet, leering in through the broken window, their entire body covering it, preventing light from seeping in. Gunnar nearly dropped his pad. This entire trip was a trap, this entire journey, but how, and when? Was Walther in on it?

Gunnar couldn’t talk, he heard Aethel shouting his name but all he could do was stare at Puppet. The beast crushed the glass with ease and forced their entire oversized body through the window, bending the metal frame. Behind Gunnar the bandit panicked even more. ‘The number of bodies never matched the family register. I had to postpone my plan for a while looking for the lost daughter of the Grant family.’ Puppet shook their head. ‘Thank you, for teaching me how short sighted I was.’

The mercenaries’ minds raced. Aethel’s stubbornness had actually partially protected him for once, but now, for sure, he was in Puppets kill book. Was Gunnar too? Could he get out of here safely? He had to warn his friend, to tell him, but if he lifted the phone back to his cheek would the monster in front of him allow it? He could still hear Aethel shouting at him, yelling his name. Puppet’s tail flicked impatiently.

The two locked eyes as Gunnar inched toward the door, but Puppet slammed their clawed hand into the wall in front of him, cutting deep into the metal. ‘You know, whilst I researched Aethelstan Grant, I decided to look deeper into you. You weren’t important, not really, it was just a passing interest. Juniper City may not have files from your childhood, but they did have the name of the city you came from.’ Puppet took one step closer to Gunnar, claws scraping through the wall with a screech. ‘Did you know that some cultures believe a child inherits their parents’ guilt? Their. . . Sins?’

Gunnar backed against the wall, even in the terrifying situation he was in, he couldn’t help feeling a haze of rage boil up inside him. ‘I am not my parents.’

Puppet stopped their approach momentarily. ‘That is true, but. . . It gives me a good excuse.’

In a flash a claw flew through the air at Gunnar, ripping a length of the wall as it did. Gunnar acted as fast as his body would allow him too, throwing his last flash grenade and rolling away. He felt a sharp pain in his arm and let out a roaring scream as he bolted for the door as the light filled the room.

The mercenary dived through the window and tumbled down the steps outside, the pain filling his body as his blood stained the already red rusted step. He could hear Puppet growling behind him, but he didn’t allow himself to look back, even as he heard the beast rip through what was left of the window frame. The grenade has barely affected Puppet of course, why would it?

Gunnar ran towards the truck, or as close to running as he could get. Gripping his arm and hobbling as fast as his bruised legs would take him. He looked up through hazy vision to see the turrets in the Clementine turn to face him and for a moment, he wondered if Walther had truly betrayed him.

Then they started firing, over his shoulders into a protesting metal monster that was just feet from him. Gunnar wasted time he shouldn’t have to peek at Puppet covering his body with his cloaked arm, holes ripping through the already ruined outfit. The injured mercenary used what seconds he had to run to the closest door of the Clementine.

There were a few whispers of thank you’s as the hydraulically assisted door swung open even with the minimal strength he could put into pulling it. He dived in and pulled the door behind him. ‘FUCKIN’ DRIVE!’ He yelled as the vehicle’s wheels spun, ripping over the remaining barbed wire. It didn’t sound like any had popped, even if they had he was safer inside than he would have been outside.

Gunnar lifted his broken body up to look out the window just in time to see Puppet get on all fours and begin sprinting at him, even with all four turrets riddling their body with dozens of tiny craters. ‘Speed up, as fast as this shit’ll go!’ he groaned, feeling the vehicle immediately pick up. Gunnar took another look at his pursuer, seeing the beast slowly turn into a dot as the Clementine ripped through the desert.

He rolled over into the chair, breathing out and letting tension fall from his body. However, he underestimated just how much work his adrenaline was doing. New levels of pain ripped through him as Gunnar finally looked at his injured arm. Only. There wasn’t an arm there any more, not most of it at least. Puppet had cut it clean in half.

There wasn’t even time to panic, blood poured from the wound and Gunnar had already grown lightheaded. He ripped his shirt and pulled his belt off, struggling with only one hand. He wrapped the stump in cloth and used the belt to tighten around it to stem the bleeding, but it was still coming. There was definitely some form of first aid in the Clementine and Gunnar vaguely knew where it was, but he had already lost too much blood, he was running out of time.

The mercenary’s mind grew hazy as he found it under the passenger seat’s leg rest, embedded in the wall of the truck. Gunnar popped it open and pulled out a small cylinder with a lid. He slid the lid off in his surviving hand and immediately a bright flame erupted akin to a powerful lighter. A few quick and deep breaths preceded before the mercenary forced it into the fleshy mess.

Gunnar growled in pain, it wasn’t the first time he had cauterised one of his wounds, but this was on another level, if he wasn’t close to passing out before he certainly was now. When it was finally done, he fell against the chair, his breath now turning shaky. The stench of blood that filled the vehicle just a moment ago had been overtaken by the reek of charred flesh.

Now that there was silence, Gunnar could still hear a familiar voice gently fill the Clementine, he was still on call with Aethel who he could clearly hear panicking. There was one last thing he had to do before he allowed himself to pass out. Gunnar weakly reached for the cell, grasping it with whatever grip he had left. ‘Ae-Aethel.’ He held it to his lips and ear.

Finally the call had grown silent, though that didn’t last long as his friend answered him. ‘What is it, Gunnar?’

‘Run. . . Find- Find Walther. . . And hide.’ The cell fell from his hand and clattered between the seats as Gunnar passed out, not entirely sure if he would ever wake again. He drifted off, wondering if sending Aethel to Walther was even the right call, still, it was the only one he could make.

Walther stood by the regular entrance through the wall. He tapped his foot impatiently with a smokestick puffing out rustic smelling clouds from his lips. Behind him stood his trusty servant and servant Oswin and Gunnars short tempered friend Aethelstan. He glanced up at the militia officer, someone he didn’t entirely trust, even so, he was currently relying on him to protect both his servant and him. Though the automatic city defenses would also come in handy.

According to Aethelstan, Gunnar was ambushed and attacked by Puppet, also according to Aethelstan, the officer was their best chance they had of getting rid of Puppet, which was highly unlikely. So that’s why they were there, so he could get confirmation from his employee, if he was still alive, his so-called friend didn’t seem confident.

As if some higher being heard his thought, the Clementine honed into view amongst a cloud of dust. Immediately Walther’s stomach dropped. Its right side was riddled with holes, one of the guns on the roof hung down the side and there was a trail of oil leading through the desert path. A few nearby workers looked up at it, only to grow bored and turn back to their jobs. It wouldn’t have been the first vehicular corpse they had borne witness to.

An explosion followed by screams rang out far behind them, Walther felt the ground shake. Gunnar’s warning had come too late, Puppet had already begun their assault on the city. Their followers were now openly warring with the Militia and gangs. It had only started a few hours prior, probably around the same time the Sinman had appeared before Gunnar. Which meant it was all planned which also meant that they had been betrayed.

The vehicle stopped not far in front of them, Walther nodded at his assistant to open the driver side door, who did so, hesitating as he grasped its handle. Aethelstan raised his rifle, just in case. The door popped open and Gunnar’s body flopped out onto the ground in front of them, Oswin jumped in surprise.

‘Gunnar!’ Aethel cried, throwing his weapon to the side as he ran up to the mercenary. Walther could feel his heart pounding. Out of the hundreds he had working for him, Gunnar Vaen was one of a handful of people he had actually grown to trust in the city, he hoped that number wouldn’t fall, he needed it not to fall. Aethel dropped his ear to Gunnar’s mouth and nose, furrowing his brow, then smiled. ‘He’s breathing sir Walther, he’s alive!’

Indeed, Walther could also feel relief fill him. One of the three men here may not have gained his trust, but he would need his help regardless, to try and fix this city he would need any help he could get. Oswin had been loyal for years and Gunnar almost died just to get a warning to him, even if it was a little too late. Even this Aethel risked his own life to deliver that message and to save his friend. The noble had never had a friendship like theirs, like brothers, his own brother never felt like one to him.

Aethel picked up the mercenary’s large body and draped him over his shoulders. Walther lent down and picked up his weapon. ‘This isn’t bio-locked is it?’

‘Huh, what?’ Aethel looked up, straining under his friend’s weight. ‘Oh. Nah, not even the sisters could afford that kind of thing on the reg. Just standard issue.’

Walther nodded, priming the weapon. He was no marksman, but he could at least shoot vaguely in a direction. The noble began walking back to the gate. ‘Follow us, Aethelstan Grant. I have somewhere we can hide that even Puppet won’t know about.’ Aethel nodded and readjusted the bleeding man on his back and the three men walked back into the city. The city that was now at war with itself.