The pickup truck came to a stop in front of the entrance to an old subway station, now reinforced into a heavily fortified stronghold. The man with the scratched mask stepped out and moved forward without hesitation. Behind him, the steel gate slammed shut and locked automatically. An air filtration system kicked in immediately, purging the toxic dust that had followed him inside. Within seconds, the haze cleared, and visibility returned to normal.
He reached up and removed his mask. A weathered face was revealed, hardened by years in the Outlands. A thick bandage covered his left eye, stretching across a deep, jagged scar. The inner door slid open. Beyond it lay the depths of the station. What used to be a subway hub had been transformed into a crowded settlement. People lived shoulder to shoulder among rows of makeshift tents lining the corridors.
He descended the dead escalator step by step, unhurried, until he reached the platform below. An old train sat motionless on the tracks. Now repurposed. A command center.
He stepped into the train car, which had been heavily modified. The original passenger seats were long gone, replaced by an enormous leather sofa that dominated the space. A large, imposing man sat waiting. At his side, two women in thin, revealing clothing lingered close, their hands gliding over him as they attended to his every whim.
"You're back, Zenos."
The man's voice was deep and steady, barely shifting as the women continued their ministrations.
"Yes, Mr. Isaac."
Zenos replied, bowing his head slightly in respect.
"So, how did it go? That government test subject."
Isaac asked, lifting a glass to his lips, his eyes fixed on his subordinate.
"We couldn't get anything useful."
Zenos answered plainly.
"We confirmed they were part of the experiments, but it seems the ones who escaped don't know the process. There's a good chance they're just victims who were used… or deceived."
Before either of them could continue, a sharp tone crackled through Zenos's earpiece.
Beep… beep… beep…
"What is it?"
Zenos answered immediately, his expression turning rigid.
"Uh… Sir Zenos… the body… it's gone."
The voice on the other end stammered, clearly shaken.
"What do you mean it's gone?!"
Zenos snapped, loud enough to draw Isaac's attention. The man on the sofa glanced over, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"How does a body just disappear? You locked the trunk properly, didn't you?!"
"It was sealed tight, sir! Locked from the outside, too! And I was right behind them the whole time on the bike. If it fell or tried to escape, I would've seen it!"
The voice hurried to explain.
"Then how the hell does it just vanish?!"
"I… I don't know, sir. I'm at the gate right now, negotiating with the officials, but when we checked… it was just gone. And there's something elseม there's no blood in the trunk at all."
"That's impossible! I shot him three times. How is there no blood?!"
Zenos's irritation flared. The scar over his left eye twitched slightly.
"Forget it. Just get back here. We'll sort it out."
He ended the call with a sharp motion. Silence settled over the train car once more.
"Looks like you've run into something unusual."
Isaac spoke with a faint smile, his hand still idly tracing along the arm of the woman beside him.
"Yes… there's been a bit of a complication."
Zenos replied, his tone tense. The single eye visible beneath his bandage burned with suspicion.
"So that means their abilities aren't just about resisting the pollution."
Isaac murmured, leaning back into the expensive leather sofa.
"I want it."
His voice lowered, almost thoughtful.
"Whatever it is that lets them live out there without a mask… imagine it, Zenos. No more wearing these scraps of metal over our faces all the time."
A slow breath.
"Our lives would be easier. And our business… even more so."
"Exactly as you say, sir."
Zenos nodded in agreement.
"In that case… if possible, we should start taking them alive instead."
He paused slightly.
"Then extract the information afterward."
"We don't need to extract information."
Isaac spoke calmly, a cruel smile forming on his lips.
"If they really don't know anything, then all we need… is one of them alive."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"I want to see for myself what's inside them."
A brief pause.
"Because I'm certain of one thing… the investors are already interested in this."
"Understood."
Zenos replied shortly, determination clear in his gaze. This time, he had no intention of repeating his previous mistake.
"Do whatever you need to do."
Isaac leaned back into the sofa, relaxed once more.
"As long as the results are good."
Zenos gave a final nod before turning and walking out of the train car in silence. The door slid shut behind him. For a moment, the space fell quiet.
Then Isaac reached out, pulling away the fabric that loosely covered the two women beside him. A low chuckle escaped his throat as the dim lighting of the underground station cast long shadows across the room. Soon, the silence gave way to soft, echoing sounds within the private space of the Outlaw leader.
.....
"Wow… this place is actually pretty nice."
Darius looked around in open admiration as he stepped out of the off-road vehicle, taking in the underground base of the Alliance.
"Should've come here from the start. Would've saved me the trouble of risking my life trying to get into the Dome for a job."
He brushed the dust off his worn-out suit as he spoke.
"Didn't you say you won a huge sum from gambling at an Outlaw den?"
Drago cut in, his tone laced with skepticism.
"Eh, same difference. Money's money."
Darius waved it off casually, exhaling the last of his cigarette.
"So we're taking in another one from that experiment project now?"
Connor muttered, rubbing his temples as he sized up the new arrival's attitude.
"Come on, boss. Take me in, I promise I'm worth it."
Darius shot him a playful wink.
"Forget it. Go clean yourself up first. You look like a mess."
Connor cut him off, jerking his chin toward the communal showers deeper inside the base.
"By the way… who exactly are the Outlaws?"
Edward asked, confusion clear in his voice as the group began to disperse.
"You seriously don't know?"
Drago stopped mid-step, raising an eyebrow.
"I thought you said you used to live out here before going inside the Dome. Even took scavenging jobs in the Outlands."
Chloe added, fixing him with a questioning look.
"That's true… but I've never heard of them."
Edward admitted honestly.
"They're people who live out in the Outlands, same as regular civilians."
Connor stepped in, arms crossed.
"They just don't follow any rules. They've got their own system."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"Normally, they don't bother with ordinary people. Not worth the effort. Too much time, too many resources for too little gain."
A beat.
"Their main work comes down to two things."
He glanced at Edward.
"Hunting down fugitives for bounties…"
"And acting as middlemen when someone wants something illegal done."
"Businessmen. Investors. Sometimes they need dirty work done."
Drago continued, his tone steady but edged with bitterness.
"They can't do it inside the Dome, so they come out here. And the Outlaws handle everything."
He glanced at Edward.
"Transport. Coordination. Even human trafficking."
He paused briefly before going on.
"Law enforcement is strict inside the Dome. But outside… it's not like there's no protection at all."
A short breath.
"It's just that most officers don't want to come out here. Budget's another issue. Training a single officer or soldier costs the state a fortune."
His voice grew quieter.
"So this place ends up being a gray zone."
He looked ahead, expression hard.
"The authorities turn a blind eye… and wait for the Outlaws to bring the criminals in for them."
By the time he finished, there was a clear note of exhaustion in his voice. A man who had seen the system from the inside.
Edward stood in silence, listening. The truth began to sink in. The rot wasn't limited to the Dome… or the Outlands. It was everywhere. Out here, it wasn't just the toxic dust that could kill you. There were networks. Deals. Interests. Things that could swallow you whole without warning.
"But… if that's the case, why don't we see more criminals getting caught in the news?"
Edward finally spoke, frowning slightly.
"It always looks like they fail to catch them."
"Well… if the ones on the run offer a better price, or better benefits, the Outlaws don't care either."
Darius finally chimed in.
"The Outlaws care about profit. They live out here, so whoever pays more… that's the side they take."
He turned back slightly.
"They're not good people. That much should be obvious."
A faint pause.
"But if you're good at negotiating… things can go differently."
He stopped for a brief moment, then continued walking. Leaving behind a truth that cut deeper than anything said before. Out here in the Outlands… Money and profit weren't just power. They were the law.
.....
Inside the research facility, now fully operational once again, the five members of the P-Type unit stood ready, geared for combat. Moments later, Sophie and Roxanne joined them. Waiting ahead was a massive black armored vehicle, powered by an electric system, sitting motionless as it awaited deployment orders.
"I'm not getting in that thing. Just so we're clear."
Roxanne blurted out the moment she saw it, crossing her arms with a pout.
"Oh, come on. It's still better than walking out there yourself, isn't it?"
Gareth shot back, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness.
"It doesn't even look cool! We're a special unit, aren't we? Shouldn't we have something way cooler than this?!"
The small-framed girl protested, completely unapologetic, glaring at the bulky vehicle with obvious frustration.
"Hey now, Roxanne-chan… how about this?"
Lloyd chimed in with a sly grin, trying to redirect her attention.
"If we head out and spot something cooler, we'll just take it."
"Huh… that actually sounds kind of fun."
Roxanne's mood shifted almost instantly. The irritation in her eyes faded, replaced by a spark of excitement.
"Alright, enough. Let's move."
Alicia cut in, her tone sharp and serious, pulling everyone back to the mission.
"We just got word from the gate. Some Outlaws brought in a target… but the body disappeared."
"Not hard to guess."
23 added in his usual flat tone.
"It's one of the ones who escaped the facility."
One by one, the P-Type members stepped into the cabin, the cold air inside biting against their skin.
At the front of the armored vehicle, two regular officers sat in position, one driving, the other navigating, both focused on the latest coordinates displayed across the monitor.
Once everyone else had boarded, only Roxanne remained outside. Her eyes caught something in the distance, a silhouette hidden beneath a thick, dust-covered tarp.
She didn't hesitate. Breaking away, she sprinted toward it, excitement lighting up her face.
"Hey, Roxanne! Wait! We're about to move!"
Lloyd shouted from inside the vehicle, but she didn't even slow down.
"Don't care! Hehe… I found something fun!"
She laughed, grabbing the edge of the tarp and yanking it off in one swift motion.
Beneath it, A sleek motorcycle, buried under layers of dust. Edward's motorcycle. The one that had been confiscated as evidence.
"Wait… what are you doing?"
Gareth called out, leaning out from the vehicle with a confused look. Roxanne didn't answer. She swung herself onto the leather seat in one smooth motion and fired up the engine.
VROOOOM!
VROOOOM!
The engine roared to life, the sound echoing violently through the parking bay. A faint trail of exhaust smoke drifted into the air, carrying the stale scent of a machine that hadn't been used in a long time.
"You can actually ride that thing?"
Gareth asked again, watching the small girl who looked far too excited about her new ride.
"It's just like in a game. Not that hard!"
Roxanne shot back cheerfully, twisting the throttle all the way.
VROOOOM!
The engine roared as the bike surged forward with explosive force. The front wheel lifted clean off the ground as it shot ahead. In a split second, she brought it back down, stabilizing it smoothly on both wheels.
Her small frame wasn't even fully seated. She almost hovered above the bike, carried by the sheer acceleration. Only her hands stayed locked on the handlebars, her face lit up with pure excitement, like a kid who had just found their favorite toy.
Inside the armored vehicle, the others could only stare as she sped ahead, heading straight for the exit at full throttle.
"...Tch. Fine. Let's move. If she gets lost out there, it'll be a mess."
23 cut in, his tone edged with annoyance.
The armored transport began moving, accelerating quickly to follow Roxanne's motorcycle. Its electric engine hummed steadily, a sharp contrast to the aggressive roar of the bike already far ahead.
At the front, the navigator hurriedly checked the route on the radar display. The moment the convoy passed through the inner gate, still under repair, the orange haze of the Outlands swallowed them whole. Visibility dropped instantly. Dust filled the air, forcing the system to rely entirely on navigation sensors.
Now, the entire P-Type unit had officially deployed into the Outlands.