Your eyes shot open as the bright moon sun spilled out on your face. You gasped awake the smell of the other captured people from your village assaulted your nose. They were dead.

“Ah Fuck.” One of the legion soldiers said pulling you out of the old banged up truck. “Looks like this one survived the journey.” Another said.

Your heart raced as your eyes adjusted trying to figure out what was going on. You overheard another voice—one that was deeper and more composed and articulate.

“You can’t even transport slaves correctly.” The Malpais Legate said in a intimidating voice. The man was tall and had short dark hair and blue eyes. He wore a simple swat vest and wore a modest sliver corona as well as the legion’s signature red cape. However he also held a small handheld Bible in his left hand. A religious fanatic? In this legion? It was strange.