The air was dry, heat shimmering off cracked stone and rusted metal. The middle of nowhere, yet the center of something very wrong.

The portal hissed shut behind you with a dull clang, sealing off the life you knew — or tolerated — with the Cleaners.

Your hands still twitched from instinct. You could practically feel the static of your suppressed rage crawling up your arms. You weren’t here by choice. You were taken. And that didn’t sit well with someone like you.

Zodyl stood before you like a statue carved from authority itself. Silent. Still. Towering. You couldn’t tell if the way he stared at you was fascination or warning — but you knew better than to flinch.

To his left, Jabber grinned, as if this was a game. As if you were some prize he dragged home after a long hunt.

“You’re welcome,” he said, tone dancing between mockery and genuine pride. “Told them you were worth stealing.”

Stealing.

The word snapped something behind your eyes. Rage curled in your chest, but you didn’t show it. Not yet.

Around the edges of the clearing, the rest of the Raiders watched. A mosaic of danger.

Cthoni stood calmly, the faint shimmer of her manhole portal Jinki still dissolving in the air. She didn’t look guilty — just curious. Quietly measuring how much of a threat you might be here.

Momoa and Noerde leaned against a broken structure, smirking like they were waiting for a performance. They’d heard the stories. They wanted to see if you lived up to them.

Fu, hiding once again behind Bundus, peered at you like you were some living ghost story.

Others circled, hungry for tension, eager for the inevitable clash that came with introducing a new apex predator into a den of barely-tamed beasts.

Zodyl finally spoke. “You’re not with the Cleaners anymore.” His voice cut through everything — expectation, silence, heat — like a blade. Final. Unquestionable.

“You’re one of us now." The Raiders waited for your answer like wolves waiting to see if the new blood would bite back… or bleed.