Matt finished his story, voice dropping into silence.
Kai let out a low whistle. "You're telling me you just walked in, acted like you belonged, and now you're an actual Black Omen operative? That's insane. Are all the rumors true about them?"
Matt smirked faintly. "Yes and no. They do what needs doing. Dirty work, messy work. But there's another layer—shadow squads. Political assassinations, the kind the Concord doesn't want stamped on official records. I found out about it when I asked to be transferred into that squad." His smile grew sharper. "Funny thing is, I never was part of it in the first place."
Kai blinked. "You conned the con men."
Matt shrugged. "I fit where I want to fit." He pushed himself up and brushed dust from his coat. "Enough stories. Let's get some rest. I'll keep first watch."
---
The night stretched thin. Wind blew away from the Lawless City, carrying the metallic tang of radiation out toward the plains. That meant they were safe, at least for now.
Kai slept light beneath Velnix, who had coiled around him like a shadowed blanket, its formless body pulsing faintly.
Matt's hand jolted him awake. His whisper was sharp. "Up. Company."
Velnix peeled back, ribs glowing like faint embers.
Figures moved at the tree line, Red Circle insignias painted in flaking red across their armor. Guns glinted. One of them spat bile into the dirt, doubled over from radiation sickness, then roared hoarsely:
"That's them! They hijacked our plane!" His voice cracked into a frenzy. "YOU BASTARDS ARE DEAD! DEAD, YOU HEAR ME!"
Gunfire tore through the night. Sparks shredded bark and earth. Kai's chest snapped back with two burning impacts. His breath hitched, but he didn't crumble. Instead, he closed his eyes, let Sovereign's system hum through him. Pain slithered down his veins—then inverted.
Two Red Circle soldiers screamed as bullet wounds ripped open in their own flesh, blooming crimson across their vests.
Matt's shadows surged, cutting through the squad. Velnix unfurled with a shriek of claws and mist, rending through rifles, ribs, and the thin wall of courage that kept the enemies standing.
By the time the chaos stilled, only silence remained.
Kai pressed a palm to his chest, steadying his breath. "Let's move before more show up."
Matt nodded, already scanning the horizon. "Back to the city."
---
The Lawless City didn't bother with gates or guards. No walls. Just a gaping wound of streets and neon, wide open for anyone reckless enough to enter.
They cut straight to Omen Trading.
The moment they stepped through the doors, chaos erupted. Renn was already there, pacing like a storm, Alboro looming behind her like a wall. A half-dozen employees circled, their faces split between awe and disbelief.
"Holy shit!" Renn nearly screamed. "Do you guys even realize the rumors flying around right now? Red Circle HQ is glowing like a damn lantern! Whole city's spitting them out—junkies torched the stragglers already. They're finished. Outcasts!" She jabbed a finger at them. "Remind me never to fuck with you two!"
Kai rubbed his temple, weary.
"And Kai—" Renn leaned in, eyes bright with mania. "I want to introduce you to someone. The Russians' leader. Their seer says she needs to see you. But that can wait. First—tell me about the bomb! Was it an explosion? Was it beautiful? Did it tear the sky apart? I NEED DETAILS."
"Renn." Alboro's voice dropped heavy, iron steady.
She froze mid-rant. "Sorry, boss."
Kai exhaled, finally letting the tension out of his shoulders. "Damn," he muttered, almost to himself. "What a week."
-
Matt stayed behind at Omen, already buried in logistics for their trip back to Zone Alpha. He had a way of folding himself into the details, quiet and meticulous, like he'd never really left the Black Omen life behind.
Renn didn't wait around. "Come on, Kai," she said, half a grin flashing. "Time to meet the Russians."
---
The entrance was nothing more than a rusted service hatch at the edge of a collapsed overpass. Two armed men lounged beside it, smoking and speaking in sharp Russian consonants. They didn't ask who we were; Renn just flicked a coin-sized badge at them, and the hatch swung open.
The tunnel dropped steep, damp, and dark. It wasn't the kind of place built for comfort—it reeked of mildew, gun oil, and too many bodies crammed into narrow stone. The hum of generators echoed faintly.
"Whole other world down here," Renn said, voice low but carrying. "They've been carving it out for decades. While the junkies and gangs rot upstairs, these people keep their own order."
---
The tunnel spat us out into a cavern the size of a stadium. My eyes adjusted to the dim glow of floodlamps bolted high along the stone ribs. Below, an entire underground city stretched outward—steel scaffolding rising into multilevel walkways, shanties pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, neon signs buzzing weakly over gambling dens and vodka bars. The Russians had taken the bones of subway stations and bomb shelters and turned them into a fortress.
And unlike the chaos above, there were rules here. I saw it in the way people moved. No street brawls. No open drug deals. Armed patrols in patched uniforms stood at every corner, watching, nodding, enforcing quiet with the casual weight of authority.
Renn gestured toward them. "Discipline. That's why they last."
A bell rang somewhere deep in the tunnels, and children ran in neat lines toward a schoolhouse wedged between two bunkers. Markets opened in ordered rows, tables of canned goods, scavenged tools, even contraband tech.
"Looks like civilization," I muttered.
"Don't mistake it for mercy," Renn said. "They'll kill a man just as fast as the Red Circle. They just have manners about it."
---
As we walked, I felt the air change. Less smoke, less filth. More purpose. The Lawless City's surface burned with anarchy, but down here the Russians had built something closer to a machine—a society that obeyed its own gears.
We were led through a checkpoint manned by soldiers in patched armor. One of them looked me over with pale, unreadable eyes, then stamped a symbol onto my arm with cold ink: a black bear's head.
"Mark of entry," Renn whispered. "Don't lose it."
The guard spoke in rough English, his accent thick: "While inside, you follow rules. No weapons drawn, no fighting, no drugs. Break rule—you disappear. Clear?"
"Crystal," I answered.
He let us through.