Snow woke slowly, her head pounding and her vision swimming in and out of focus. The clatter of wagon wheels and the low murmur of voices surrounded her, blending into a discordant hum that made it hard to think. She tried to move, but her wrists were bound tightly behind her back, the rough rope cutting into her skin.
Her senses sharpened as she realized she was in a cage. Metal bars surrounded her on all sides, and the floor beneath her was a mix of splintered wood and dirt. Across from her sat Rook, his face bloodied and bruised, his hands tied just as hers were.
"You're awake," Rook said, his voice hoarse but laced with relief. "Took you long enough."
Snow's first thought wasn't for herself or even for Rook. "Rain," she croaked, her throat dry. "Where's Rain?"
Rook's expression darkened, and he leaned back against the bars with a wince. "They took her. The Crimson Legion."
The name hit Snow like a punch to the gut. She knew it well—stories whispered by survivors and nomads of a ruthless bandit army that swept across the wastelands like a plague. The Crimson Legion didn't just raid settlements; they obliterated them, stripping everything of value and leaving nothing but ash and corpses in their wake. Those unlucky enough to survive were enslaved, dragged along to serve the legion's whims until they dropped dead from exhaustion.
Then she remembered, back at the Crowe's trading station, about the words of Flint, about the Legion's stories, their reign of terror spread so much that people started to shun Knowers, afraid for what the Legion would come to them as well.
Don't tell me she is already...
"They're hunting Knowers," Rook continued, glancing at the ground. "Don't ask me why. All I know is they singled her out, took her to another wagon. She's alive—for now. They want her for something, not to kill her."
Snow clenched her fists, the ropes biting deeper. "We have to get her back."
Rook gave a bitter laugh. "Sure, let's just walk out of here past the dozens of soldiers with repeaters pointed at our heads. You've seen their kind before, right? They'll kill us the second we so much as look at them wrong."
Snow ignored him, twisting her head to glance out of the cage. The sight made her stomach turn.
The Crimson Legion's convoy stretched across the horizon like a serpent of rust and dust. Soldiers marched in leather armor adorned with red bandanas and mismatched goggles, their weapons slung across their backs or resting in their hands. Horses snorted and pawed the ground, some tied to wagons loaded with plundered goods. Behind the convoy shuffled a line of slaves, their ragged clothing barely clinging to their emaciated frames. Many were chained together or tied to the backs of carts, struggling to keep pace under the watchful eyes of their captors.
The legion itself was loud and chaotic, soldiers laughing, arguing, and barking orders over the clanging of weapons and the rattle of wagons. It was a scene of brutality and chaos, the kind of thing Snow had spent her life trying to avoid.
The convoy came to a halt as the soldiers began shouting orders. Snow and Rook were yanked roughly from the cage, their bonds cut but not removed.
"Move!" barked a soldier, shoving them forward with the butt of his repeater.
Snow staggered but caught herself, glaring at the man. He sneered at her before turning his attention to another prisoner, jabbing him in the ribs for moving too slowly.
"They're making us set up camp," Rook muttered, falling into step beside her. "Just do what they say. For now."
Snow bristled at the idea of compliance, but Rook was right. She scanned the perimeter as they worked, noting the placement of the guards and the positions of the wagons. Escape seemed impossible—at least, not without Rain.
The soldiers barked orders at the slaves, driving them to unload supplies and erect tents. The crack of a whip rang out periodically, followed by yelps of pain. Snow's hands itched for her weapons, her muscles tensing every time she saw a prisoner collapse under the weight of a crate or a soldier's boot.
When the camp was finally set up, the slaves were herded into a single spot near the edge of the encampment.
"This is where you sleep," one of the soldiers announced, his voice dripping with mockery. "If you can call it sleeping. Try to run, and you'll find out how fast a bullet moves. Got it?"
Snow and Rook were shoved into the group, but their reprieve was short-lived. A soldier grabbed Snow by the arm, hauling her to her feet.
"You're coming with me," he said gruffly.
Snow struggled, but another soldier stepped in, jamming the butt of his repeater into her stomach. She doubled over, gasping for breath, as they dragged her through the camp.
The largest tent loomed ahead, its heavy canvas walls fluttering in the dry wind. The guards pushed her inside, and she stumbled, catching herself just before hitting the ground.
The interior was lavish compared to the rest of the camp. Rugs and furs covered the floor, and a large table was piled with maps, weapons, and half-eaten food. At the center of it all sat a man who could only be Lord Dominus.
He was enormous, his bare chest crisscrossed with scars that gleamed in the firelight. Pieces of crude armor adorned his shoulders and arms, and a heavy belt encircled his thick waist. His helmet, adorned with horns and a blood-red plume, cast a shadow across his rugged face, but his cruel grin was visible even from across the room.
At his side, Rain knelt on the ground, her hands bound and a chain collar around her neck. The sight made Snow's blood boil. Rain's usual brightness was dimmed, her head bowed, but when she saw Snow, her eyes flickered with something close to defiance.
"Ah, the scav girl," Dominus said, his voice a deep rumble. He tugged on Rain's chain, pulling her closer. "This Knower girl here has been telling me all about you. Seems she thinks you're something special."
Snow took a step forward, but one of the guards struck her across the stomach, sending her to her knees.
"Careful," Dominus said with a chuckle. "You're in my tent now. Show some respect."
He pulled Rain closer, his massive hand gripping her chin as he forced her to look at Snow. "She says you're strong. I want to see for myself."
Snow glared at him, her mind racing. Her body ached, but her resolve hardened. Whatever happened next, she wouldn't let this monster win.
————————————————————————————————————————————
Lord Dominus leaned back on his crude throne, exuding both grotesque grandeur and menace. His hand toyed lazily with the chain leash attached to Rain's collar, the tension in the line making her wince every time he shifted his grip. Snow's glare was fixed on him, her fists clenched even as she knelt in the dirt, the earlier blow from the soldier still burning in her ribs.
"You caused me quite a bit of trouble back at Crowe's trading station," Dominus said, his voice deep and grating, like rusted gears grinding together. He tilted his head as he studied Rain with a mixture of amusement and cruel curiosity. "The Collector promised me something valuable—a data drive filled with secrets of the Once-World. Said it could lead to something extraordinary. Imagine my surprise when I learned it had fallen into your dainty hands instead."
Dominus then grabbed Rain's chin and brought her closer, clearly establishing him as her master, she cried weakly, trying futilely to break free.
"Your precious little Knower here had something I wanted," Dominus went on, his hand let go of Rain, throwing her away, and she crashed into the floor harshly, struggling to get on her feet. "But my dear Consul suggested a better plan—patience, he called it. Wait until you did all the hard work of finding Paradise and then swoop in to claim the prize."
Snow, barely contained her fury at the warlord, remains fixed on the ground, biting her lips in anger that it drew blood.
Rain's lip curled, and she spat at his feet, the gesture earning her a sharp tug on the chain. She stumbled forward but kept her head high, defiance burning in her eyes. "Paradise isn't something you can plunder like the ruins you crawl through," she hissed. "You can't destroy it like you destroy everything else."
Dominus's laugh boomed through the tent, rattling the metal cups and plates on the makeshift table nearby. "Destroy it? My dear, everything in this wretched world belongs to me already. The weak exist to serve the strong. It's the only law that matters now. Paradise will kneel before me, just as you will."
He yanked the chain again, pulling Rain closer to him. Snow surged to her feet, her anger boiling over.
"Keep your hands off her!" she snarled. She moved to lunge, but a Legion soldier struck her from behind with the butt of his repeater, driving her back to her knees.
Dominus chuckled, clearly enjoying the display. "Such fire. I can see why this girl speaks so fondly of you." He leaned forward, his shadow engulfing Snow where she knelt. "But in the Crimson Legion, strength is what earns respect. If you want your partner back, you'll have to prove you deserve her."
"She's not my—" Snow started, only for Dominus to cut her off with a dismissive wave.
"Enough," he said, turning to his soldiers. "Take her away. Prepare her for the game. Let's see if her bite matches her bark."
The soldiers hauled Snow to her feet and began dragging her toward the tent's exit. She shot one last glance at Rain, her eyes blazing with silent promises. Rain tried to reach for her, but the chain yanked her back, and she could only watch as Snow disappeared beyond the tent's flap.
The tent fell quiet once the soldiers were gone, leaving only Rain and Dominus. The warlord turned to his table, pulling out the map he had taken from her and spreading it across the surface. "Consul!" he barked.
A moment later, the tent's flap rustled, and an elderly man entered. The Consul was hunched but moved with a careful deliberation, his gnarled hands clutching a wooden staff. His goggles, cracked and clouded with age, obscured his eyes, but there was no mistaking the keen intelligence that flickered behind them.
"You summoned me, my lord?" the Consul asked, his voice soft but steady.
Dominus jabbed a finger at the map. "This is the location they're trying to reach. This 'Paradise.' What do you make of it?"
The Consul leaned over the table, his weathered hands smoothing the edges of the map as he studied it. Rain, still chained, watched him intently.
"This region…" the Consul began, tracing a line across the map with his finger. "It is known as the Steel Grave. A desolate place, littered with the remnants of war machines and shattered vehicles from the Collapse."
Rain's breath caught. She never heard of the Steel Grave before, but this man recognized it almost immediately.
He must be a Knower like her, and a very good one at that, far better than herself even. She pondered to herself, unsure of how to make of the situation.
Why did someone like him work with a monster that hunted Knower like Dominus?
"The Steel Grave was once a battlefield," the Consul continued, his tone grim. "Just before the Collapse, it became the site of a desperate war between Paradise's security machines and the human factions that sought to control it. Men and machines clashed here, and in their hubris, both sides destroyed each other. It is a graveyard now—a wasteland filled with rusted giants and bones."
"And Paradise?" Dominus pressed.
"The Steel Grave is the final barrier before reaching Paradise," the Consul said, straightening. "But the machines—those that survived—may still be functional. Security protocols, automated defenses… It is not a place for the unprepared."
Dominus grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Good thing I'm never unprepared," he said, turning to Rain. "That's why we have slaves. Let the machines exhaust themselves on the fodder. We'll sweep through what's left and claim Paradise for the Legion."
Rain couldn't contain her fury. "You're insane!" she shouted, struggling against her restraints. "You'll send hundreds of innocent people to their deaths! The machines won't stop—they'll tear through your men just as easily as they'll tear through the slaves!"
Dominus grinned, showing no guilt or remorse for the upcoming massacre "That is even better. The strong and the weak only get what they deserve. If they can't survive those heaps of junk, then they have no place in Paradise. MY Paradise."
Rain recoiled, her stomach churning at his words. "You're a monster," she hissed, her voice trembling with anger. There is so much she can endure: The Niners' accusation, Gemma's scorn when first meeting her. She tolerated them all, not even mad at them for insulting her or doing things she didn't like.
But for the creature in front of her, the beast of a man called Dominus, she has none of it, nothing but rage and disgust.
Dominus only laughed as he stepped away, barking orders to the soldiers outside. "Get some rest. We will have a good show tomorrow!"
Rain was left alone with the Consul, her chained wrists trembling as she fought against the hopelessness threatening to overwhelm her.
Rain's jaw tightened. She didn't know how, but she would find a way to stop him, together with Snow.