In the city, life is easy, clean, and safe. The people go to sleep, protected by heroes and police and first responders and rules that everyone follows because they want to stay inside the city. The city, where there's food, clean water, smiles on faces, no monsters, and safety. But outside the city? None of that exists. In the wastelands, there is only one rule that everyone follows: power has rights. Monsters have power, gangs have power, and hero patrols have power, so they have rights. The right to live, the right to food, the right to sleep peacefully.
"Sir," a member of Lahmi's gang, Gath, says, kneeling before him. "We have received word on the state of Salvation Forest."
Lahmi sits on a wooden throne, a cup of wine in his hand, and a woman on his lap. Behind Lahmi's throne sleeps a large monster called a ye'iitsoh. Though it is only an infant, it still takes up the majority of the room the men are in. Its body is like that of a small mountain, covered in minerals, but with small sparks of electricity arching between its numerous thin spines down its back. "Leave us." He says to the woman, who gets up and walks quietly out of the tent. "Speak."
"The infiltration was a success. Dozens of monsters you sent made it inside, killing the heroes on the perimeter."
"And our harvest?" Lahmi asks.
"Very good sir. Though the amarok was unfortunately killed, everything else went according to plan. The total number of monsters we gained increased by two fold."
"The loss of the amarok is unfortunate… who killed it?" Lahmi asks, sipping his wine.
"There are conflicting reports as of now. Some of our scouts say that there were several powerful heroes present, but as of now, the specific one is unknown." The gang member explains.
"How many of their forces did it kill before being slain?"
"Ummm…" The man feels a small bead of sweat form on his temple and glances at the sleeping ye'iitsoh. "None, sir."
Lahmi raises an eyebrow, and the ye'iitsoh begins to stir from its slumber. "What?"
"I-it seems the amarok encountered the hero who slaid it first, and that hero was working alone. But-" The ye'iitsoh begins to halfway open its eyes.
"How many heroes?"
"In total, between the investigation team sent after the forest was burned and during our initial attack, nine heroes, sir." The man stammers as he speaks. The ye'iitsoh begins to settle down, and his half-open eye closes again.
"Not nearly enough, but a good start." Lahmi says, and places his cup down. He rises from his throne, and stands beside the man who remains kneeling. "What news have you on by brother's death?"
The man flinches, he had dreaded this question because there was no answer. His brother, Gala, had been their gang's co-leader alongside Lahmi. His gift allowed him to influence the emotions of people, and he used it well. He could make others totally loyal to him, or fear him like death itself. When he died, he had been on what was supposed to be a routine supplies raid. He took a group of men to a local farm, and no one returned. Scouts were sent, and discovered that their entire force had been killed.
"No more information has been found yet, sir."
"I see." Lahmi says and the ye'iitsoh's eyes spring open. It begins to rise to its full hight.
"But I have an idea on how we can gather more information!" The man cries. "If we can get a spy into the city, we can gather more information via the media and other resources!"
The ye'iitsoh rumbles and its large body continues to raise, the stone that makes up its skin slides along itself, amplifying the intensity of its presence. "A spy in the city? Is that something you truly believe you can do?"
"Yes! Yes, sir! I know I can. I just need a little time!" The man says, as if begging for his life.
"Then see to it personally. Leave me." Lahmi orders.
"Thank you, sir." The gang member says, and rushes out of the tent.
Lahmi sits back on his throne, and picks up his cup of wine, taking a sip. "Two-fold? Not a bad start at all." He walks over to a table. On it sits a hand-drawn map of the wastelands. Various points of the map are marked with circles, and some of the circles have an 'X' drawn over them. The circles indicate the locations of other gangs Lahmi intends to visit. When he gets there, he will offer them a choice, submission or death. Of course, this was all much easier when Gala was alive, but his death only slowed Lahmi, it did not stop him. The 'X' over the circles mark places he has already visited of course. Some gangs kneeled and joined Lahmi, growing his army. Others resisted, and became food for his countless monsters. Sure, the hordes of smaller monsters like crimson archers ate their fill, but none of them could outstrip the two ye'iitsoh, and the stone-coat that each ate as much as two hundred smaller monsters.
Outside the tent, hidden from the view of all around, the woman who had been with Lahmi minutes earlier finishes listening intently to Lahmi and the man. She pulls a scrap of paper from the thin robe she'd pulled over herself when leaving Lahmi, and writes a note addressed to the Hero Corp. Inside the note are details of everything she's seen and heard. She walks unnoticed to the edge of the encampment, and tosses it slyly over the wall in one fluid motion; as if nothing had happened. On the other side of the wall, a hero wearing all black appears in a blur of motion, picks up the note, and vanishes again just as quickly. Minutes later, the same hero delivers the note to a dead drop point, which will be checked soon, and rushes back to his position.
Around two years later, another message is sent to all hero groups. The message is simple, but conveys information about a growing monster threat outside the walls, and orders that all hero groups put together strike squadrons and prepare for a city wide invasion.
Oasis King closes the message sent from Hero Corp's head office, and places it on his desk. It was one of his spies that infiltrated the gang, and he who forwarded the note to Hero Corp, so he already knew everything they knew about the matter. He'd taken it a step further however. He mobilized his entire group. Of course, it was under the pretense of assisting with the possible invasion, but in reality, it was an excellent opportunity to search for Marcel in full force without drawing too much attention. For now, and for the last two years that he has been searching for Marcel, King maintains a singular focus… securing his position in the public eye by eliminating what he perceives as the greatest threat to that recognition. And now, King in on the verge of success. His sidekicks have located Marcel in Keilah, protected and hidden by its citizens. But in a few weeks, King is going in personally to deal with him.
King looks over at the picture of his son, Johnny, on his desk. Johnny was the only one from team three to not betray him. All the rest, HotJack, Melodie, and Crasher, left immediately after Marcel; all in protest of King's actions. But Johnny… he stayed. He chose blood… chose his father.
Elsewhere, Johnny is walking in the city, when he spots a familiar woman in a denim jacket and black pants. He walks over but says nothing. She hands him a key and says, "Room 2-7." He takes the key, nods his head, and both leave without another word. She walks out of the building, and he goes to the room.
When he opens the door, he sees Marcel plugging in a gaming consol to the room's old TV. "Hey." Johnny says smiling. Marcel turns around, smiles, and walks over to give him a hug.
"You got it?" Marcel asks, letting Johnny go from the hug. From his pocket, Johnny pulls out a copy of a popular fighting video game series featuring pop-culture characters. "Nice."
This was how the two kept in contact. Through secret meeting in hotel rooms, set up by former members of team three. They'd meet up, talk, hang out, and just be normal for a few hours. It was all Marcel could hope for sometimes. Every once in a while, Johnny would have some information for Marcel about his father's search, or Marcel would suggest ways Johnny could hinder it, but for the most part, they just enjoyed their time together.
"So, anything interesting happen lately?" Marcel asks.
"Yeah, Dad made me vice-leader of the group." Johnny says.
"Woah, dude! That's great! What's that mean?"
Johnny laughs, "It means the only person who outranks me is Dad. I've also got my own team now. A big one too. Six sidekicks all my own."
"Dude!" Marcel shakes his friend's shoulder excitedly.
"Wanna see my badge?"
"Heck yeah." Marcel says. Johnny pulls a small badge from his pocket. "Dude, that's so cool. How can you tell the difference from one badge and the others though? Aren't you worried you'll lose it?"
"Well, it has a badge number." He shows Marcel the number: 131-21-1010. "But a bit of personalization can't hurt." Johnny says and flips it over. He pulls out a small pocketknife and etches his initials into the back: J.B., Jonathan Benjamin.
"I'm proud of you, seriously. This is great." Marcel says.
"Thanks." Johnny says. "But on a more unpleasant note, you should also know, a message came from the head office recently. I think the search for you is about to get more intense. You might want to consider leaving Keilah."
"What? Why?"
"Dad's moving a lot of stuff around. Apparently, a big horde of monsters, about five-hundred or so, have been spotted moving around in the wastelands. I bet he'll use this as an opportunity to look for you more aggressively." Marcel looks disturbed, both by the fact that he could be found, and by the massive number of monsters. "Look, it isn't something I think you have to worry about yet. But… he probably knows you're in Keilah. I'd be surprised if he doesn't. Just be on the lookout."
"Okay…"
"Don't worry, okay. His hands are tied with the monster hordes right now, so it won't be immediate. But you should make some plans."
With that, the two forget about everything else, and focus on what's important; their game. Just for tonight… that's most important.