Sixteen years ago, on a backwater planet, where people only came when they had nowhere else to go.
It had cities, laws, cops, and courts on paper. In reality, money decided everything. If you paid enough, you could kill someone in the open street and buy your way out before the body cooled.
A muscular man walked through the main market street with steady steps, his boots crunching over grit and broken glass.
At forty-one, he still looked human enough, though not yet the monster people would fear years later. His left eye was natural, though scarred at the edge. The right one was cybernetic, but old tech, dimmer than the one he would have years later. His right arm had been replaced from the elbow down, matte alloy with blunt industrial joints instead of blades. The back of his skull showed thin metal seams where plating met flesh, the wiring hidden under synth-skin. His legs were reinforced, not monstrous yet, hydraulic assists humming softly when he walked.
