Concrete Jungle had been Noah’s home for his entire life. He’d grown up in the streets of a district that no longer existed. Concrete Jungle had always been governed by whatever crime syndicates were strongest. Sometimes only one or two dominated and broke apart the city. He’d seen as many as seven for a few short years. It didn’t matter, power was always shifting between whoever was powerful and wealthy. The citizens of Concrete Jungle just went on trying to make ends meet, regardless of which gang claimed their neighborhood as territory. Everything was truly run by Rule Maker anyway. A malevolent self-interested asshole who pulled all the strings no matter who tried to claim power.

Somehow, Noah ended up as one of the leading Crime Syndicates. One of four members of Bad Omens. They were little fish in a big pond, but between the four of them they managed to carve out their own district. Noah knew the people deserved better than this, being torn apart by meaningless disputes. Concrete Jungle was by all definition, lawless. Poverty was standard, homelessness was rampant. Any sign of unity and rebellion was stamped out like embers under a boot heel. Noah burned to make a difference. One day, he’d rip out the roots of crime and violence. For now, he was just as much a subject as anyone else.