Sawyer was clearly an old hand at this game. He didn’t even open the pouch to check the contents. He simply weighed it in his palm, felt the density of the Cores, and let a satisfied smile curl his lips.

“Alright then,” he announced, sliding the pouch into his coat. “Let’s eat.”

The atmosphere at the table shifted instantly. Barnaby, who had been staring at the food with laser-like intensity, took this as his cue. He stabbed his chopsticks toward a braised pork knuckle on the far side of the platter.

Instead of being offended by the breach of etiquette, Sawyer threw his head back and laughed heartily.

Three rounds of drinks later, the tension had dissolved into a haze of alcohol. Sawyer’s face was flushed, his movements loose. He accepted another glass from Jax, downed it in one smooth motion, and leaned back, patting his stomach with a contented sigh.

“Mmm. You know, since we’re friends now,” Sawyer slurred slightly, his eyes half-lidded, “I should do what friends do.”

He jerked his chin toward the door, signaling Silas.

Silas stood up immediately, stepping into the corridor and pulling the heavy door shut, standing guard outside to ensure total privacy.

Once the latch clicked, Sawyer beckoned Jax closer with a crooked finger.

“Listen closely,” Sawyer whispered, the drunkenness momentarily vanishing from his eyes. “The analysis team back in Redrock Bastion has picked up the signs. There’s a Black Rain coming. Maybe two weeks out.”

Jax froze.

“You need to be careful,” Sawyer hissed. “When it hits, the Insectoids… they’re going to mutate. We’re expecting a massive surge in Tier 2 and Tier 3 signatures.”

Jax stared at him, his mind racing. “Officer Sawyer, is this intel reliable?”

Sawyer’s head snapped up. He slammed his hand on the table, rattling the silverware. “Are you questioning me?” he barked, his face twisting in offended pride. “I burned a lot of favors to get that information! If you don’t believe me, pretend I never said a damn thing!”

Jax immediately switched to damage control. He poured another glass of wine, apologizing profusely and soothing the man’s ego. It took several minutes of flattery and refilled glasses before Sawyer grunted, his anger forgotten in the bottom of a bottle.

By the time the meal ended, Sawyer was full, drunk, and happy. He stood up unsteadily, waving a hand at Jax.

“Alright, Brother Jax. I need to head back to report. If I miss the curfew, I’m screwed.”

“I’ll walk you out, Brother Sawyer.”

Jax escorted the envoy all the way to the city limits, watching until Sawyer’s armored transport disappeared into the dusty twilight. Only then did he circle back to find Silas.

Silas had been waiting anxiously to deliver his own report.

“Did you find Elena?” Jax asked, his voice low.

Silas nodded vigorously. “I found her, Boss.”

“Good. Did you get the Credits to her? Was it hard to get in?”

Silas shook his head, looking dejected. “It wasn’t just hard; it was impossible. I spent a fortune just bribing the doorman to get a message through. That place… it’s a high-end club. Membership only. I heard the annual fee is two million Credits.”

Jax clicked his tongue, a cold weight settling in his stomach. “Two million? Good grief. What did she say?”

Silas scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I… I didn’t actually get to talk to her. I saw her from a distance, but security wouldn’t let me close. She managed to get a letter to a waiter to bring to me, though.”

Silas pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket and handed it over.

“You did good,” Jax said, taking the letter. “Go get some rest.”

Silas nodded and headed for their quarters.

Jax found a secluded alleyway, away from prying eyes, and tore open the envelope.

“To that dead man walking, Jax:

I’m doing fine! Don’t you dare worry about me. I eat well, I sleep well, and I’m practically swimming in luxury. I’m almost done saving enough to buy out my contract!

How is Barnaby? You better not be mistreating him. If I come back and find him skinny, I won’t let you off! Hmph!

And you? How are you doing? Don’t get a big head—I’m not worried about you. I’m just worried you’ll get yourself killed and leave Barnaby alone.

Also, keep your money! Save it for Barnaby. Why are you wasting Credits on a place like this?

…

Anyway, I have to go sweep the floor now. And don’t get any wild ideas—I am a very important, very prestigious cleaner!

Later, Elena.”

Reading the familiar, biting tone, Jax couldn’t help but smile. He could almost see her standing there, hands on her hips, lecturing him.

“At least she’s safe for now,” he muttered, pocketing the letter. “Wait for me, Elena. I’ll get you out.”

But his smile faded quickly. “Buying her freedom from loan sharks… she’s dreaming if she thinks they’ll let her go that easily.”

He sighed. “I should have told Silas to warn her.”

That night, Jax lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The letter was a comfort, but Sawyer’s warning loomed over him like a storm cloud.

Black Rain.

It was a phenomenon that occurred two or three times a year. A dark, oily downpour that saturated the earth with concentrated mutagenic energy.

For the Insectoids, it was a hyper-evolution event. Dormant genes unlocked, carapaces hardened, and aggression levels spiked off the charts. A single night of rain could turn a manageable infestation into a swarm of nightmares.

Jax did the math. It had been six months since the last one. They were due.

But the Black Rain wasn’t just doom and gloom. It was fair. Cruelly fair. While it turned bugs into monsters, it also triggered Awakenings in humans. It was as if the system—or God, or whatever ran this hell—threw chips onto both sides of the table to ensure the war stayed bloody.

The weekend arrived. It was time to head back to the Outpost.

This time, the convoy was heavier. Jax, Barnaby, and Silas were joined by Gareth, Kaleb, Annie, and—unfortunately—Viper.

Jax hadn’t invited Viper. The man had practically glued himself to the backseat of the truck, refusing to be left behind.

“I’m part of the team, ain’t I?” Viper had grinned, his gold tooth flashing.

Jax had warned him cold and clear: Step out of line, and you stay in the wasteland forever.

Viper had promised, cross-his-heart-and-hope-to-die, that he would behave. Jax didn’t believe a word of it. He quietly instructed Silas to keep a weapon ready and an eye on Viper’s back at all times.

They drove through the wasteland, the route now familiar. When they rolled up to the entrance of Sector 33, Jax felt a strange sense of relief.

The valley mouth. The crude stone walls. The Sentry Towers standing vigil.

It wasn’t much, but it was his.

For Silas, it was a return to base. But for Gareth, Kaleb, Annie, and Viper, it was a revelation.

They stepped out of the vehicle and froze. Their eyes were glued to the two imposing structures flanking the makeshift gate.

“You…” Gareth stammered, pointing a shaking finger. “You actually have Sentry Towers?”

“Two of them?” Annie gasped.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kaleb asked, his voice hushed with awe. “If we knew you had this kind of firepower… hell, we would have treated you like royalty back at the guild hall!”

“No wonder you have so many Cores,” Gareth muttered, the pieces finally falling into place. “You’ve been farming them.”

Gareth looked at the towers, then at Jax. His shoulders slumped, any remaining ego evaporating.

“Jax,” Gareth said seriously. “You should be the Guild Leader. I’m stepping down. This… this is what we need.”

Jax shook his head, smiling slightly. “Keep the title, Gareth. I’m not interested in the paperwork. But make no mistake: when we are here, in this valley, you follow my orders.”

“Understood,” Gareth said, nodding firmly. The others followed suit.

Everyone except Viper.

Viper stood a little to the side, staring at the Sentry Towers. He wasn’t looking at them with awe; he was looking at them with hunger.

In The Sprawl, a Sentry Tower was power. It was wealth. Only the top syndicates owned them. And here was this kid, sitting on two of them in the middle of nowhere.

A glint of naked greed flashed in Viper’s eyes. It vanished in a split second, replaced by his usual oily grin, but the thought had already taken root.

Jax ignored him for the moment. He clapped his hands to get their attention.

“Alright, enough sightseeing. We have work to do.”

Jax pulled out a crate of oil lamps he had prepared.

“Kaleb, Annie. Grab these. I want one placed every ten yards, starting from the valley entrance and extending two hundred yards down the path. Light them up.”