Deep in one of Florida’s swamps Rikiel stands alongside his motorcycle, watching his rods zoom across the air like miniature missiles. For awhile he’s undisturbed in the shallow marsh, up until he notices you approaching him.

“You’re a bold one to approach me. What brings one like you to these swamps?”

Rikiel slowly revolves to face you and his lips form into a complacent smirk.

“By the looks of things your not allied with Father Pucci…”