Prologue

Two men, just off their shift at the mines, sought refuge in a rundown bar reeking of sweat and unknown odors. Their usual speakeasy had been shut down, so they settled for this new, less appealing spot. One man's attention was caught by a holographic projection playing recent news in the corner.

“Hey, did you hear? Stride Corp beat out Exion for that funding package?” a disheveled man with grease-streaked cheeks asked quietly, alcohol not helping his weary state. “Hey, say something.” He clicked his teeth in frustration. “Still mad about that Mender and his red-haired partner shutting down Al’s Keep?” he slurred, glancing around the bar. “This place ain't Al’s, but the drinks are good.”

A frown appeared on a man who stood nearly 200 centimeters and was visibly worn. Perhaps worse off. “Say something?” Like a bear poked too many times, he lashed out. “It’s them damn corporations taking little by little from us! Their perks and unregulated experiments with their little machines.” He firmly picked up his drink and chugged it in one go before slamming the empty glass on the table. He slopped over and scowled outwardly. Even while hunched, he stood a full head above the rest of the customers.

“Those bastards are gonna put our flesh out of commission with their stupid robots!” The sized man continued on his rant. His raised voice startled the surrounding patrons of the bar who couldn’t help but notice the increasing instability of the man before them. Noticing their gazes, the giant stood up from his seat and aggressively raised his hand.

The smaller worker looked worried, regretting the topic. “Relax, man! They’re watching us…”

His friend’s words only angered the giant more. He turned around to face the other customers with a fierce glare. “Whatchall lookin at?” You all sympathizers for those machines taking away our jobs? Morons! All of you!”

By now, the patrons of the bar had already begun to pile their way out. Keeping their voices down as they understood what came next. This part of life had been taught rigorously in the slums: to know your place. It was the only way to survive in this unforgiving world. Unfortunately, the two newcomers were unaware of whose bar they were disturbing.

A door slammed behind the giant, catching his attention. A refined man emerged from the kitchen, exuding confidence and mystery. He was not the usual barkeep, nor the familiar owner.

“You!...” But it seemed the giant recognized the man.

The man from the kitchen spoke. “They’re called Arbiters, those androids you hate. They’ll fix the Deviant problem better than Menders. At least that’s what the executives hope.” The mysterious man refilled the giant’s glass. “For your troubles, as a first-timer here.” His calm demeanor suggested familiarity. But the giant’s anger grew, as his pupils dilated and he stared at the refined man with intensity.

The life in the giant’s eyes seemed to disappear in a second. Something malicious was decaying and morphing his form. Soon, chairs and tables were flying without recourse. Within the modest room, a mountain was thrashing about.

“Hey! Hey!?” his coworker stammered, horror-struck. He was crawling away, having collapsed in fear, wetting himself before passing out.

The man who confronted the giant was dancing about, bottle in hand. As time passed, lesions continued to appear on the giant’s body as his face contorted grotesquely. The giant man had become an amalgamation of scarred and mangled flesh. A monster. A Deviant.

The refined man remained calm while dodging the articles that flew at him at alarming speeds. “Theodore Crowe, suspected Deviant, wanted for seven civilian deaths,” the refined man read from his wrist device. “Crafty, using an old coworker as an alibi.” He grinned as he reached for something. “You should know Deviant protocols authorize subjugation, or in your case, elimination.”

-

A man who did not have a single mark on his clothes took a sip of drink too hard for his liking. He coughed, watching indifferently as the monster’s flesh boiled away, leaving behind priceless gems within the black ash. The stench had settled, and so had the chaos. As the gentlemen drank, he appeared deep in thought, occasionally talking to himself.

During this time, the human parts of the slain Deviant still moved in sporadic contortions reminiscent of a world-class acrobat. What had happened was being recorded. The giant had transformed into a horrific creature, driven solely by instinct. Probably unaware of its demise and decaying mind. It’s pitiful - losing one’s humanity without realizing it.

The enigmatic man continued by stating the Deviant’s defining characteristics. The respectable frame had become grotesque. Its humanity was quickly extinguished, at an alarming rate even for most Deviants. The creature probably wouldn’t have lasted long given its characteristics, but it probably would have caused serious damage to the surrounding area before neutralizing itself.

In this case, this case came about like most other Deviant cases. These Deviants in this underground megacity were rooted in the Nightmare, a merciless disease that replicated the monstrous form of parasitization. The origins of the Nightmare are unknown and current research hasn’t made any breakthroughs for a cure.

The Nightmare prays on human emotion to create Deviants, though that isn’t always applicable. Unlike the widely accepted principle that comes from parasitization, the Nightmare lacks the basic adaptability to achieve any semblance of equilibrium with its host, making it fatal in most cases.

“Alcohol also appears to be a stronger inhibitor in larger quantities than previously noted.” The man ended his recording on that note. He walked over to the shattered bar table and helped himself to another glass while calling in units to the scene on his Communicator. He looked at the mess and sighed.

After finishing his drink, he picked up the unconscious drunk and leaped over the bar counter to set him down against the drawers. “Perhaps he was a good friend to you.”

The man walked into the kitchen where he found an elderly man quietly drying mugs with an old rag. He leaned against the flimsy walls and crossed his arms. “Sorry geezer, your place is gonna be closed for a while. We’ll pay for the damages, naturally.” He paused, before adding. “They’ll also handle the paperwork and the suspect out front.”

The elder remained silent as he continued drying other utensils and wares. The two men sat in silence for a while until the young man spoke. “You knew there was a Deviant here, why didn’t you get everyone out? Or do you still spite the world for your failures?”

“Do you?...” The old man spoke in a low and indifferent voice, frighteningly similar to the young man. “The man you just killed had goals too. He would have lived if you had not intervened.”

“Hmm. No can do. That man was wanted and had already escaped twice in the last month. It came with a stroke of luck that I happened to be around. He was already infected with the Nightmare from a previous case.” The younger man paused and shut off his communicator. When the elder said nothing else, the young man sighed. “You know why I’m here. I plan on heading to the surface. I want you to watch over the little one but it seems you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I have no interest,” he assured. “Until your requests carry the weight of life,” the old man added. He turned his scarred face to face the man requesting the favor. “Even to those you blind, they can realize you are already doing that girl a disservice.”

The young man chuckled. “You’re right. I lack the constitution to live.” As he walked toward the exit, his voice began to fade. “I’m not asking you to be her guardian, just look out for her when the time comes since she’s the only hope this place has.”

When the young man was gone, the elder paused and shifted his head toward the exit. “You fool…”

-

In a damp, putrid alleyway littered with trash and rats, Lars pulled back his shirt to reveal gross lesions and scars. This pain was not dealt by anyone but himself, a messy canvas which he painted with his two hands. Lars trembled uncontrollably as he looked up at the dark corners of the Cavern’s roof. “It won't be long now.”

For a very long time, humanity had not seen the stars they were born to inherit, but that will soon change.