Sunset over Zaun

There was once a time where everything felt okay. Where we just keep on going with our lives and can just ignore what is happening around us. As long as we did not cause trouble for those up on Topside, we were left alone. We could ignore the tragedies and live in fragile peace.

Then, we lost the one man who kept it all together. And in a single night, everything fell apart.

In the years since that fateful night, things have gotten much worse down here. Shimmer, once seen as a mere street drug, flooded through the lanes like water. More and more people got sick as the empire of a self proclaimed ‘industrialist’ grew on the plights of the people. Life went on, sure… but like the chems in the air, it gets much harder to breathe down here if you cross the wrong people.

That doesn’t mean that everyone just follows along with the new norm. Far from it.

There is one group that manages to put a thorn in the sides of the chembarons. They don’t have the numbers, but they make up for it in interesting ways. For unlike many in this cruel underbelly, they care for those who are caught in the crossfire and want nothing to do with the barons, the battles they pick or the consequences of them.

Relying on nothing but their cleverness, quick thinking and wit, they try to fight an opponent that would be impossible to kill alone. But day by day, with each plan put into place and each person they save, there was the sense that they were doing the right thing.

They burn like fire and are a light in the dark for those who look for them.

The dim green glow of Bridgewaltz was miles from here, with no sight of any onlookers or lackeys of the barons poking around. While it was quiet all the way out here, there was no telling who could be walking around. For all they knew, the barons had eyes and ears in every crevice of the city. So, even with runs like these, they needed to be careful.

“Okay, you all know the plan?”

“Go in, find anything of value, get out before anyone notices,” a confident voice on the left replied, “Same as last time.”

“Good. Remember, only get enough that we can carry back and we’ll sort the rest later. If any of you find yourselves in trouble, signal me.”

The rest of them nodded, before the dropboarders all descended. The boards they were on began to fly closer to the ground, riding the chem ridden air as they all softly touched down. The space around them was ridden with trash. A dumping ground of the discarded wastes of metal and chemical alike. To those that ruled the Undercity, this was just discarded trash. Things that have lost both value and meaning.

Yet, to the Firelights that just arrived, this was a potential bounty. For what the barons called trash, they see it as a lifeline. Components to improve their equipment, tools that can help fix what is broken and supplies that can help the sick. Anything could be found down here if you knew where to look, and they knew what to look for.

“Good, no signs of trouble,” the Firelight leading the expedition said, glancing at a pocket watch as they pressed down on the crown and turned to the figures that accompanied him, “Five minutes. In and out. Any longer and we’re bound to attract attention. Scar, cover our exit. Rest of you, spread out. Let’s go.”

The rest of the crew that came with him nod, before starting to spread out and search the yard. The figure called Scar, who happened to be a Chirean, got on their board and ascended back into the air. The rest of the accomplices all dressed similarly to the one leading the group. Street clothes, makeshift weaponry and a pristine white make that obscured the face. While this might have been a salvage operation, all of them knew that things could go wrong in a heartbeat if left to chance.

One minute passes, and nothing seems afoot. By now, the others that accompanied him had found various nuts, bolts and scrap metal.

Two minutes pass, and someone finds a piece of broken chemtech that could possibly be repurposed. For what, it was unclear. But if the possibility exists, then it may work.

Three minutes passed, and some of the crew decided to get on their boards early to haul whatever they found back to the hideout.

Four minutes-.

“Hey, chief, over here.”

The sudden call drifted his attention away from the rest of the scrapyard and the pocket watch as the leader turned their head, “Found something?”

“Not something but… you might want to come look at this. Some of us found something that you need to see.”

The slight tinge of curiosity coursed through him as he put his pocket watch in the pocket of his jacket. There were already three other Firelights gathered in this one corner of the yard, so whatever they found must have been big. Was it something from a chembaron? Was it a chemtank suit?

The moment he got closer… every possible thing that he thought could be there was thrown out the window. “What the hell?”

It was just something that the Firelights had found, but someone. A bipedal figure with light amber fur instead of skin, hair that was the color of fire and strange clothes covered their form. From their head, a strange protrusion that looked like some form of horn, a tail that matched their hair and a patch on their clothes that looked like a blazing sun. There were no signs of injuries or scars and just at a glance, it definitely looked like someone that was not from here. The Undercity was no stranger to various folks that called it chem riddled alleys home, but this was a first.

To make things even stranger, they laid on the ground in front of what looked like a broken mirror. Not an ordinary mirror, but something that looked like the rich and elite of Topside would keep in their home, with decorative horses and everything. Definitely not something you would find in an abandoned junk heap out here on the edge of Bridgewaltz.

“What… is that?” One of the Firelights asked.

Another one, taller than some of the others, carefully walked behind the figure on the ground and gently placed a pair of fingers where the neck met the underside of the jaw. “Whatever it is, it has a pulse and it’s breathing.”

“Do you think it’s some kind of security guard? Some goon that the barons employed to keep watch?”

“Doubt it,” another Firelight replied, “Barons don’t give two shits about the trash they throw out, so why have someone look after it?”

“Maybe it’s a Shimmer addict trying to find a place to sleep?”

The chief looked back at the Firelight examining the body, before they shook their heads. “No, no signs of any malformations or changes to the skin. If they were an addict, there would be clearer signs.”

A brief chime was heard as the chief looked back into his pocket watch. The time had reached five minutes. They should’ve been out by now, but this wasn’t something that couldn’t simply be ignored.

“Chief, what’s the plan?” he heard the question from the Firelight by the figure on the ground. Everyone else waited, thinking of different responses.

Yet, to the chief, there was only one clear choice, “Pick them up. We’re bringing them back.”

“Chief, are you sure? What if-”

“Would you prefer to leave them here for a Chembaron to find and turn into a plaything of theirs?” the chief quickly retorted, “I know some of you have doubts, but if there is anything that we don’t do, it’s leave anyone to fend for themselves. Let’s go. We’re already out of time.”

As quickly as they arrived, the Firelights were quick to grab what they came for and ride out. The farther they left the Bridgewaltz behind, the more that the chief couldn’t stop thinking of the extra person they rescued.

There was no telling if this… creature worked for Silco or not. But, there would be time to ask them these questions once they woke up.