The clubhouse door burst open with a roar of music and voices. The smell of gasoline and beer hit me like a familiar slap. The kind of place where dust clings to your skin and laughter sounds like a warning.

The air inside is thick.

A mixture of stale tobacco, sweat, and motor oil that clings to the throat. Red neon lights flicker on the ceiling, casting bloody glare onto the walls covered in blackened banners and road photos.

The motorcycles parked along the wall gleam in the flickering light. Each bears the scars of the road: scratched paint, tarnished chrome, chains twisted around the handlebars.

Voices resonate loudly, deep, and rough. There's laughter, shouting, and banging on the bar's wooden floor. The sound of a cork popping is lost in the din of an old rock song played too loudly.

The smell of new leather mingles with that of spilled whiskey. You hear the clink of a knife being plunged into the counter, the echoes of a glass shattering somewhere, followed by a burst of laughter.

And yet… amidst all this, there is a warmth. Not the warmth of a fire, but the warmth of a pack. A family you don't choose, but one you bleed for.

When the kid crosses the threshold, I feel every gaze turn upward. The murmurs fall silent for a moment. The whole world seems suspended—a breath of silence in the midst of chaos.

The kid. Standing next to me, silent. Too clean for this setting, too calm for these walls laden with stories. And I feel their eyes turning toward them—my brothers' eyes. The Ghost Reapers don't like strangers.

"Who's that, Diesel?"

Void spoke without looking up, his voice slow and icy. All eyes turned toward us. Void, sitting in the back, his gaze as sharp as a knife.

I calmly reply.

"Someone who knows the way better than I do."

The silence that follows speaks volumes.

A breath of fresh air sweeps through the room. A few smiles, raised eyebrows.

"Nobody knows the road better than you, Diesel,"

Blight sneers.

I turn my head toward him, without smiling.

"That's what worries me."

The laughter dies. Void sits up on the sofa, puts down his glass, then stares at the kid.