Gabriel and Aurelia stumbled out of the damaged mech, the metal still hissing from the heat of their fall. Around them, the Underbelly stretched into the darkness—an endless maze of rusted walkways, collapsed infrastructure, and abandoned tech long forgotten by the Federation.
But they weren't alone.
From the shadows, figures began to emerge. Silent. Watching. Armed.
Gabriel's instincts screamed danger. These people moved like hunters, their weapons jury-rigged but deadly. Their armor wasn't Federation-issued—this was something else. Something older.
Aurelia tensed. "We need to move—"
Too late.
A hooded figure stepped forward. Unlike the others, they carried no weapon—only a faintly glowing emblem embedded in the palm of their hand. As they raised it, a surge of invisible pressure filled the air.
The System.
Gabriel could feel it reacting—but not like before. The usual sterile, controlled presence of the Federation's System was warped here, rewritten into something different.
Something hacked.
The hooded figure spoke, their voice distorted by a mechanical filter.
"You shouldn't be here, System-breaker."
Gabriel stiffened. They knew.
The crowd of figures closed in, their weapons raised—not to kill, but to capture.
Aurelia whispered, "Gabriel, what do we do?"
The hooded figure took another step forward. "Welcome to the Red Hand."