Gunnar shuffled awake. Groaning from the pain in his skull, a headache, a monumental headache like he had never had before and a throat drier than the wasteland he had just spent a week in. His ears rang and his body ached. The mercenary pulled up his arms to cradle his head, only to find that, to his horror, one was missing from the equation.

A gasp of fear escaped his dry lips, then a few smaller gasps. He wanted to scream, to shout, to let all the panic that had just been building up out. He thought back to his recent memories, racing through everything that had happened. Then it slowly came back into focus. The ambush, Puppet, the escape. It was a surprise he was even alive with all the blood he had lost.

The panicked mercenary tried to steady his heart. He looked around the room he found himself in. It was dark, dingy. Originally white walls that had been aged. No windows and a single paneless door. A light embedded into the ceiling above, bright enough to illuminate the surroundings but little more. He lay on a wheeled bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by tables covered in bloody cloths and instruments.

He sat up, slowly, feeling a deep pain in his torso, just under his left peck. There were bandages and pools of blood around the same level where his arm was cut. Apparently he had suffered even worse injuries than he originally thought and somehow still breathed.

Finally, Gunnar took a look down at the stump in the place of his left arm. It had been clamped closed by some basic augments, ones that would reroute his blood and allow a potential cybernetic arm to integrate with his nervous system. Which he would probably have to do, if he ever wanted to be a somewhat effective mercenary again. Even though he now had the money for it now, he really didn’t want to get it done.

Suddenly, the quiet room filled with noise as the door burst open. Standing at the entrance to the room was Aethelstan, his eyes were wide and his chest heaved, he’d damn near sprinted here. Without warning Aethel ran over to Gunnar and wrapped his arms around him squeezing hard enough to cause genuine pain.

Gunnar rapidly tapped his friends back. ‘Ow ow ow ow! Pain. Aethel, pain pain!’

Aethelstan jumped back. ‘Oh. Shit. Sorry Gunnar. Just. . . I’m just happy you’re finally awake.’ He looked away sheepishly.

Behind him, two other bodies appeared at the door. Walther and his charming assistant Oswin. Gunnar sighed, laying back down against his bed. ‘Aethel man. I told you to hide, instead you risk three dumbasses’ lives to rescue half a man.’

‘If we’re being pedantic it’s more like four fifths a man,’ Walther quipped before moving further in the room. ‘Besides. I wasn’t about to lose one of the few folk in this city I know I can trust.’

Gunnar pushed his pillow up to get a better angle in the conversation. ‘Meaning?’

Walther shrugged. ‘We all know that Puppet likes to sneak around, hide in shadows, but before you left the city I had drones watching from every damn angle, that beast wasn’t there.’

It was already obvious to Gunnar where this was going. ‘So someone betrayed us to Puppet?’ The old man nodded. ‘Well, not like I hadn’t figured as much,’ Gunnar grumbled.

‘You were the one that got your arm cut off, and I can’t imagine you would do that on purpose just to trick us. Aethelstan risked his life to alert me and save yours and Oswin is the only man in this city that has truly earnt my faith,’ he explained. ‘Which means it had to be one of my employees or. . . Those sisters you’re so fond of.’ Walther looked at the two of them, watching for a reaction. He almost got one out of Aethel, but Gunnar stopped him.

Though he did feel bubbling anger rising in his stomach, it was true that everyone currently sat trial as a suspect. ‘Any ideas of who it could be?’

Walther sat down in one of the few chairs in the room, a hard metal thing, built to last over comfort. He moved around in it trying to find some sense of comfort regardless. ‘I know it’s not Slaine at least. To save us from your line of questioning I have a guarantee. When she offered up her services, Slaine willingly attached herself to my personal network. I have full control over her cybernetics and that woman has enough to make a cyber addict blush. If I wanted to, I could just switch off her entire body at any point.’

He had only met her once, but Slaine didn’t act like the type to leave their lives in the hands of another. Breakers generally had their own custom network built into their suits and of course Slaine would have had to have some sort of connection to Walther’s network to work with him, but she had no need to surrender entirely to it.

Walther tapped his cane on the floor letting out a sigh. ‘It might be biased, but frankly I don’t trust the sisters, I think it’s likely one of them.’

‘Hold on. What about your other employees? You might not trust Kat and Nati, but I don’t trust people I’ve never even met!’ Aethel interjected, clearly feeling the need to defend his friends who weren’t here to defend themselves.

Behind his boss Oswin smirked. ‘If you trust them so much then why haven’t you contacted them once in the two days we’ve been here?’

For whatever reason Oswin seemed to enjoy antagonising others. ‘Because I don’t want to put them at risk. Puppets people are everywhere now, no way they aren’t keeping an eye on those two.’

‘Quit ya fuckin’ arguing,’ Gunnar groaned sitting up, hand clutching his side. ‘Sounds like I missed a few things. I’ve been out for two days? And what do you mean Puppets goons are everywhere?’

The other three men in the room exchanged worried looks. ‘I’ll give him the breakdown, you two go and get a drink or something.’ Oswin bowed and left the room, meanwhile Aethel turned back to Gunnar with a complicated smile.

‘I’m just glad you’re alive,’ he left the room in a hurry after.

Gunnar lay back down letting a few groans he had held in, out. He was in a lot of pain, pain he didn’t need Oswin knowing about and didn’t want Aethel knowing about. ‘Shit. Didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.’

‘Ungrateful? You just lost your arm dear boy, it’s surprising your reaction isn’t more explosive.’

Gunnar coughed out a laugh. ‘Explosive? Truth be told I can barely move. Explosive might send me into the embrace of the lady skull.’ He forced a grin.

Walther didn’t react much, a slight smile and a miniscule laugh, something was definitely up. ‘The only reason you’re alive is your own quick thinking. If you didn’t patch up the holes in your side you’d be dead.’

‘I don’t remember doing that.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, you did. Or someone snuck in halfway in your journey to do it for you and that doesn’t seem to be Puppets modus operandi now. One of the medicaps in the Clementine was empty and your wound had been filled by mendigel. Of course you managed to stain my beautiful overpriced faux-leather seats with blood before you did it, but I suppose that pales in comparison to the state of the rest of my truck.’

‘Pffth. Sorry I guess,’ the mercenary had to stifle another laugh, partially because it caused a decent amount of discomfort. ‘Well, what else happened other than my miraculous survival?’

The old man’s expression turned dark. ‘If it isn’t obvious already, we’re hiding. Deep in an ancient safehouse built for my family centuries ago, not even Puppet would know about it. The reason? It’s turned to hell out there.’ He cleared his throat. ‘On the day Puppet attacked you, they also launched their attack on the city. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of his goons, his own personal cultists flooded the city.’

‘Shit, didn’t imagine they had that many followers, the bastard always kept to themselves.’ Gunnar took a deep breath. ‘The militia has a few thousand members across the city, aren’t they doing anything about it?’ He asked, trying not to panic yet.

The seat creaked as Walther lent on his cane. ‘Do you think they’re not trying? Somehow Puppets cultists outnumber them, then of course, most of the little gangers with visions of grandeur used the chaos to go crazy again, even crazier this time. Some even appear to be working with Puppet, or at least a few possie’s. What’s more, riots have sprung up again with force, where the cultists haven’t scared people into hiding like us. Like I said, it’s absolute chaos out there. Any other nobles that were down here have escaped up, even a few of the wealthier merchants or mercs.’

‘Well what about you? You spent a lot of time with the team you introduced me to, but you said you had a whole network, wasn’t a lie right?’

Walther sighed. ‘Wasn’t a lie, no, but you’re the first real fighter I’ve recruited Gunnar and truth be told the group I introduced you to is my personal team. The others are more or less autonomous outside of the occasional meeting.’ He paused, clearing his throat, his voice shaking a little. ‘Besides, somehow that spiteful Puppet knew where some of them were. I’ve been trying to contact as many as possible whilst you were out, discreetly of course, some reported attacks from the cultists, some are lying low and some. Some never replied.’

‘At the risk of repeating myself. Shit,’ the mercenary replied.

The old noble nodded in agreement. ‘Frankly, I’m not sure if I could just trust the others now anyway, no, I’m afraid we’re more or less on our own here. I’m willing to hear any suggestions.’

Silence fell for a moment, the faint ambience of the room filled both men’s ears. Stale air and distant processed food could be smelt, but it didn’t bother the mercenary. ‘I don;t fucking get it man. Puppet seemed to view nobles as automatic sinners, yet he’s launched this attack on dwellers? Any news of upstairs?’

‘Just Slaine up there now, since Oswin came back for me. She’s sent a few encrypted messages. Looks like there’s a few noble followers of Puppet causing issues, but otherwise no, they’ve been left alone.’

Gunnar thought for a moment. ‘Who knows how long Puppets been planning this. They’re about as old as you are, they must have had a while to think about it.’ He shook his head. ‘Forget the nobles, I’m sure Puppets got something in the backburner for them, we need to concentrate on us.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Right then. The Gangers I get, but riots wouldn’t just start again right? It usually takes a bastard noble or something to incite them.’

There was a clear agreement as Walther nodded. ‘Story goes that a couple of Liberty Guards at the Glass Park beat a teen to death and beyond for insulting a noble. Thus triggering the riots. Shortly after was when Puppets army showed up. That’s the official story.’

‘Sounds a bit like Ubara manipulations to me, but the Ubara posse that were working for Puppet were dealt with, would others willingly take their place?’

Walther chewed on the thought for a moment. ‘We have no idea how big Puppets’ operation is, or how they managed to sneak below my radar for so long. I’ve kept careful watch over this city for decades, making plans, supporting from the shadows. Yet, this beast somehow upsets the hard earned shifting balance we barely started? How did they get so many minions? How many gangers did they manipulate or pay off?’ He had to take a breath mid rant, the room they were in wasn’t exactly cool, combined with his poor mood, Walther was getting a bit overheated. ‘The point is. . . The point is. I’m scared, Gunnar. And don’t tell a single other soul.’

A disbelieving snort involuntarily left Gunnar. ‘This isn’t exactly the time I’d purposefully make enemies. Don’t worry about that old man, cus we’ve got a lot worse shit to worry about.’

The two men sat in silence a moment, to Gunnar it felt awkward, hopefully to Walther it was less so. ‘There’s something else as well, that you might not be fond of.’

‘Might as well pile on the bad news whilst we’re here.’

‘Your friend. Aethelstan? He’s expressed interest in performing his given role in this battle.’

Gunnar scoffed. ‘Of course he has. Man tries to throw himself into fuckedtown population him every chance he gets.’

‘Coming from you?’

No comeback could be made and no denial could be said, so instead, Gunnar chose to ignore Walther’s retort. ‘If he’s going to do it, then I’m going to help minimise the risks. Is Slaine still working on a weapon?’

Walther shook his head. ‘You need rest boy. You aren’t doing anything for at least a few days and even then not without both your arms.’

Gunnar looked down at his half-arm. He couldn’t exactly help out his friend one armed now could he, at least not as much as he used to. ‘I know someone that could give me a new arm and he’s someone I trust.’

The old man’s eyes narrowed, an expression of curiosity. ‘I was under the assumption you were against modifications?’

He got a shrug in reply. ‘I am, for the most part, but lets face it, if I was fucked against Puppet with both arms, what am I going to be like with one? Besides, there’s a difference between replacing a lost limb and purposefully having your arm lopped off.’

‘Alright. I’m in agreement. But who is this person you trust? I’m not letting just anyone into this safehouse, you hear me?’

The mercenary grinned. ‘Oh don’t you worry. Been plenty of dumbasses that have tried to buy out Monty. Don’t matter what you offer him, the man will say no. Acts like a miserable old bastard, but he cares about young mercs and the Blunt Street locals, and that’s it. Shit, come to think of it, he might not even be willing to help us.’

Walther placed a hand to his chin, stroking his beard in thought. ‘Indeed, Blunt Street has a surprisingly good reputation given the occupations of most of its residents. That’s the reason I chose the Blue Barrel to seek aid.’ He let out a small grunt. ‘Alright. I’ll send Oswin to fetch him. He’s the only one of us that could fly under the radar right now. I already know Puppet is seeking us, we need to move carefully.’

Gunnar felt his eyelids begin to grow heavy, his body had been through a lot and it was starting to struggle. He needed rest, but there were still things they needed to discuss. ‘After that. I need to find my contact from Ubara House. He might know something about their involvement or lack thereof. Other than that. . . Fuck it. I’m your sword.’ Gunnar had to pause. He wanted to say he was going to find the sisters, to talk to them, ask them if they had betrayed him and Aethel, but he couldn’t. There was far too much risk.

A sympathetic hand tapped the mercenary’s leg. ‘You think I don’t recognise that look in your eye? I feel the same. Can’t bear the thought of being betrayed, part of the reason I’m so distrusting,’ he chuckled. ‘I keep thinking that if it’s one of my employees then that means Puppet knows about the toxin, about the plan. That also means Slaines in trouble. She can use a gun fine, but she’s not a fighter. They find her, she’s dead.’ He stopped, staring holes into the cold tiled floor. ‘As soon as I get a chance I’ll try to contact her. No chance I’m getting a signal all the way down here without specialist equipment though.’

‘That toxins our best chance outside of Aethel, and I don’t fancy putting that much weight on his shoulders. What equipment do you need?’

He shrugged. ‘Just the boosters from my van, we abandoned it pretty much as soon as we found an entry to the underground. Too much of a rush to take anything.’

Gunnar lay fully back down on the bed, crossing his one arm left over his chest, getting as comfortable as he could. ‘Then. . . I’ll grab that on my way back from contacting the Pact.’

‘The pac- Ah. The Ouroboros Pact. They’re your friends are they? That might explain how they’ve remained in control of the Bloodsink for so long.’

Gunnar sighed as he rested his aching body. ‘First things first, find Monty. Want to be in working order before I do anything.’

Walther pulled himself up with a grunt, rubbing the small of his back. ‘I’ll go find Oswin now, get him on it. You may trust this Monty, but we will search and blindfold him. Can’t be too careful.’

An involuntary smile stretched across the mercenary’s face, hurting his cheeks. The image of Monty meeting Walther filled him with joy. The unstoppable old bastard meets the immovable ancient noble. ‘We’re fuckin’ with Monty now?’ Aethel’s voice flooded the room along with the pleasant aroma of hot chocolate. Something that Gunnar had not smelt in quite a few years.

‘You found hot chocolate?’ Gunnar felt sudden energy, sitting up on his bed and slipping a little from the excitement.

The smell filled Gunnar’s nostrils, he waited eagerly as his friend walked over to him. ‘Did you forget this is a noble’s hidey hole? They have more hot chocolate than anyone needs. Selfish pricks.’ Aethel added a small quiet comment at the end. He placed the cup at Gunnar’s left side, the side that was now armless. Gunnar stared at his friend, completely deadpan. Aethel looked back at him, narrowing his eyes in confusion, then looked down at his missing arm. His cheeks exploded red as he hurriedly moved the cup to his friend’s other side. ‘Sorry. Still not… used to it.’

Gunnar stared at his friend a little longer then picked up the cup shaking his head. ’You’re not used to it?’ He mumbled before taking a sip. He breathed out, satisfied. ‘That’s the good shit.’

Walther was standing by the door at this point, he nodded politely as he left the room. ‘This selfish prick will leave you two to relax for a moment and hopefully return with some better news.’

Good news? Gunnar had to wonder if there even was such a thing at the moment. He had just had a very trying few days. If losing his arm wasn’t enough, he also woke up to learn that the entire city was a mess… Well even more so than usual.

He looked over to see his friend take a sip of his own drink, both hands wrapped around the warming cup. Aethel put it down on a nearby table and looked up at Gunnar, his jovial smile gone. ‘Listen Gunnar. I know you’re still recovering and it’s probably not important right now but. . . On the phone. I heard some things whilst you were fighting with Puppet. What they said about you, why they attacked you. . .’

‘Ah.’ Gunnar knew where this was going and it was something he couldn’t keep to himself much longer.

Aethel fiddled with the straps on his trousers, struggling to look his friend in the eye. ‘Look. I get that everyone has secrets, but it might be important to the. . .’ He paused and looked Gunnar in the eye. ‘Shit Gunnar, I’m your best friend, I’m practically family aren’t I? Why did you come to Juniper City? What happened to you?’

Gunnar sighed. ‘It’s not even anything interesting. Yeah, I was born in another city. I lost my parents in a riot and got forced out of the city. I wandered around until I arrived here. It’s nothing new, it’s not a rare story.’

‘But, there’s something more right?’

It didn’t look like this was something he could just keep to himself now. ‘There’s always something more,’ he replied.

Aethel took another few sips. ‘Puppet is a fucked up psychopath with more than one reason to go to therapy, but they did at least seem to genuinely believe in their principles. How many times did they let you go no matter how much you got in their way?’ He looked away. ‘Though, they do just apparently hire assassins as a fucked up personal loophole,’ The young man added.

‘That’s not it. Puppets’ personal code would have allowed them to take your families lives, because they’re descended from Nobles. . . The same reason they could take mine.’

Silence filled the room. Deafening painful silence. The kind of quiet that you can notice as soon as you hear it. It was like the world around them awaited the next word with bated breath. ‘What?’

Gunnar creased in on himself, his body tensing like a day old corpse. ‘I never wanted to tell you, I never wanted to tell anyone. It’s something I’m far from proud of.’

Aethel began to fiddle with his outfit, the belt, his pockets. He didn’t look at his friend. ‘You’re a noble?’

‘Was a noble,’ Gunnar forced out. Looking over to his friend to catch his reaction, unable to focus. Though, to his surprise, the man was smiling, he even began to chuckle. ‘You’re not angry?’

‘Angry? I don’t know what the fuck to be?! I mean shit Gunnar I don’t know anyone that hates nobles more than you do. Were you the odd one out? Run away cus your family mistreated the servants or threw you into an arranged marriage?’ Aethel spoke excitedly, words sputtering out between coughs and laughter.

That wasn’t the reaction Gunnar had expected, even so his heart sank at his friend’s last few questions. His expression turned dour. ‘No, I wasn’t a good kid. I was just as bad as my parents. They were… Scum to be honest. Abused their power regularly, didn’t like, torture servants for fun like some familes, but I remember when we used a butler as a target for darts occasionally. His body was scarred and he couldn’t even run away without the threat of losing his life and I just. . . Didn’t care,’ He looked over to see Aethel’s smile vanishing, even so he couldn’t stop himself now, things that he had kept deep inside for years were surfacing. “We had a near monopoly on cybernetics in Huld and we knew it, we flaunted it. Were we the worst family in the city? Far from it, but fuck man. We were fucking scum.’ Tears welled up in his eyes, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop it.

‘So why did you leave? Are your parents really dead?’ There was very little tone to Aethel’s question, it was getting hard to tell how he was feeling.

Gunnar could only see a blurry outline of his friend at this point. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried in front of anyone either. It may have been at the funeral of the Grant family. ‘I’ve told you that before, just didn’t tell you everything. There was a riot, nearly on the level of the one in Juniper City, but Huld was different. There was no upper city or dwellers, so when the commoners rioted everyone got involved, on either side.’

‘Think I remember hearing about that, so your parents were involved, huh? Lost their lives there?’

‘They were fucking insane. Both were heavily modified, more machine than human but with perfect skin on the outside, the best cybernetics possible. Killed dozens of commoners with their own hands. Me and my sister, we waited for them at home, they turned up. The blood didn’t stain their clothes, it soaked them, head to toe, small chunks of gut and flesh caught in their hair and clothing folds, fuck. And they were just smiling.’ He paused, his body shivering at the memory. ‘I think that was the first time I knew something was wrong about them.’

A long pained sigh escaped Aethel. ‘Fuck, man.’

Sometimes that was all that could be said. ‘They didn’t stop it though, only made it worse, made themselves the main target. We got surrounded, a dozen mercs fought my parents, brought them down. Me and my sister weren’t old enough to have proper enhancements, but my sister was old enough for them to feel comfortable executing though.’

‘Not you though. . . So, they let you go?’

He nodded weakly, a little bob of the head. ‘Kicked me out the city, said if I ever returned they’d consider me old enough then. . . So, I wandered, survived off of the kindness of strangers, commoners that I would have been comfortable with treating like dirt. Which is exactly what I saw in every city and town I walked to. Oppressed masses, cruel nobles. Every new city carved away my sadness and instilled guilt, anger, rage. I realised what my family was, what I was. By the time I arrived at Juniper City, I wanted nothing to do with my origins again. I just wanted it gone.’

The hum from the generators that kept the fans blowing and the safehouse warm nearly drowned out Gunnars forcefully quiet sniffling. He was trying to wipe it away, to see what Aethelstans reaction was. ‘So the reason you’re scared of cybernetics is because of your parents?’

‘I’m not scared of Cybernetics, I’m scared of what I’ll become. What they’ll do to me.’

‘Shit,’ Aethel grumbled, leaning his head against his chair. ‘I don’t know whether I want to hug you or break your other arm. You’re a fucking hypocrite Gunnar, you know that right?’

Gunnar shrugged. ‘Probably.’

In a way they were similar, they had both lost their family. Gunnar had never even mentioned his sister before, she was the one person from that life he missed. He didn’t know how to read his friend’s reaction, at the very least he didn’t appear to despise Gunnar, but it also seemed as though he hadn’t fully decided yet. ‘So. . . What do you think?’

Aethel gave Gunnar a gentle slap on the head. ‘What do I think? Gunnar this is going to take more than a few seconds to process. You hate nobles because of your parents, but you are one. And apparently so am I. . . Kind of?’ He paused, his brows knotted. ‘Do you hate yourself too? Do you hate me now? My brain fucking hurts.’

’I don’t hate you. Couldn’t,’ he mumbled with a faint smile.

They both ignored the fact that he had completely brushed over the first half of that question. ‘I need time to think,’ Aethel replied, shaking his head. He stood up holding the remaining drops of his drink before a weak hand reached out and grabbed him.

’Please don’t hate me,’ Gunnar looked up, begging. His voice came out weak.

Aethel smiled back down at his friend. ‘I don’t think I ever could either,’ he replied, gently removing Gunnar’s hand from his. He patted it a few times. ‘Get some rest man, you need it even more than me.’

Gunnar watched Aethelstan leave the room. Despite the tears and the completely messed up situation they all found themselves in, a part of the mercenary was relieved. He finally told someone the truth. No matter what happened, a small weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Well, two weights really. Gunnar glanced at the stump at the end of his shoulder, before letting his heavy eyelids close.