Odyssey Nexus

"Do I have anything to eat?"

Lucio blinked in disbelief. "You wake up after two weeks in a coma, and the first thing you ask for is food?"

"Well, yeah, I'm hungry, and I have no idea where we are, so I figur—"

SMACK!

Jalen clutched the back of his head. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"You idiot!" Lucio snapped. "You almost died! And the first thing out of your mouth is about food? I thought you weren't gonna wake up again! I—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Whatever. Good to see you're still yourself, bro… but unfortunately, we're broke."

Jalen stared blankly. "I'm sorry—did you just say we don't have any money?" His voice teetered between disbelief and amusement. "Hah…" He chuckled dryly. "So, so why didn't we take anything from Stablious? I mean, the money was right there, did we not think of—"

Lucio's glare cut through him like a blade. "You vaporized the city," he snapped. "Before you even finish that thought."

Jalen blinked. "...Oh."

"And even then, we did have money. But I got robbed. So, no food."

Jalen shrugged. "You know, Lucio, even though we're broke, I don't regret destroying that city."

Lucio's eyes darkened. "Jalen, they still had homes. Supplies. They could have rebuilt—reformed!" His voice carried the weight of frustration and something deeper—guilt, maybe.

Jalen leaned back against the wall, smirking. "Well, Lucio, now they get to learn the value of hard work. And the more important lesson—" He extended his arms, gesturing grandly, "survival of the fittest. I'm sure they're thriving as we speak."

Lucio's fists clenched. "Half of them were malnourished. I doubt they lasted a week."

"Then it sounds like the lesson already sank in." Jalen laughed. "Anyways, where are we? I went downstairs earlier, and it was nothing but drunks and half-naked women. A Gooner's paradise, but I'm no Gooner."

Lucio sighed. "We're in Veyport. Don't let the pretty lights fool you—this place is notorious for thievery and high-level crime. I had to find that out the hard way."

Jalen stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Huh. Does this world have, like, jobs for hire? Quests and whatnot?"

Lucio's expression shifted slightly. "...Actually, yeah. Mercenary jobs. They're all for two people, though." He pulled out two wanted posters and tossed them onto the table.

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE 

HECTOR MARTINEZ AKA "THE TOE TICKLER"

LOCATION: UNKNOWN

REWARD: $15,000

WANTED: DEAD

SPIDER BOSS

LOCATION: BOOTLEG CAVE

REWARD: $100,000

Jalen's eyes lit up. "Lucio, my man. We just have to complete the quests and take the money. Easy!" He turned, holding out a fist. "C'mon, bro, I'm getting excited here!"

His arm pulsed—golden glyphs glowing vibrantly. A warmth spread across his body as his loose tunic shimmered, shifting into a form-fitting ensemble. A deep, tattered hood fell over his head, casting a shadow over his sharp features. His sleeves molded into fingerless gloves, and his boots wrapped in reinforced leather—built for stealth. A long, weathered cloak settled over his shoulders, its frayed edges making him look like he belonged in Veyport's underworld.

Jalen flexed his fingers. "Huh. Guess I nailed the dress code."

Lucio eyed him warily. "...What's your plan?"

"If it isn't obvious, I'm gonna steal us some food."

Lucio groaned. "Jalen, we're supposed to be the GOOD guys! Stealing doesn't make us any better than the people in this town! Hell, it doesn't even make us any better than Drow, and you killed him!"

Jalen's smirk faltered slightly. "Look, bro. I hear you. But that's not gonna change my mind. And besides that hero shit is more your thing anyways. New town, new adventure, and most importantly, I am starving. See ya in a few hours."

Without another word, he leaped out the window and into the night.

Veyport at Night

The city pulsed with life. Too much life.

Lanterns flickered, casting uneven shadows against the cobblestone streets. The scent of roasted meat mixed with the stench of unwashed bodies. Laughter and drunken shouting clashed with the sounds of scuffling in the alleyways. Every street had something happening—whether it was a merchant haggling, a thief slipping a hand into an unsuspecting pocket, or a brawl breaking out over a spilled drink.

'Yikes. Lucio wasn't kidding—this place is rotten.'

Jalen moved from rooftop to rooftop, eyes scanning for a target. And then—he found her.

A woman behind a food cart, a satchel of jewels tied loosely at her hip. Fruits, meats, bread—everything.

'Bingo.'

He crouched low, ready to move, when—

"You'll never get away with anything if you keep looking from up here..."

Jalen snapped around. A hooded figure stood behind him—four more at his sides.

"Easy there, man," the leader said, twirling a dagger between his fingers. "We mean no harm. Just like you, we're looking for a score."

"Well, when someone appears behind me with a group of men you can see why I'd be unwilling to take it easy... as far as I can see I have 4 reasons not to trust you."

"Very well, boys go ahead and introduce him to Veyport."

Jalen didn't hesitate. He struck the first man's wrist with a brutal chop, forcing him to release his blade. Before the weapon even hit the ground, Jalen twisted and drove a knee into the man's stomach, sending him crumpling. Without slowing, he caught the falling knife midair and slashed the second attacker across the thigh, making him collapse with a scream. The third barely had time to react before Jalen spun low, sweeping his legs out from under him before driving an elbow into his throat.

Jalen twisted the knife in his grip and drove it straight through the fourth man's shoulder, pinning him to the rooftop. Blood spattered, and a strangled scream filled the air. He yanked the blade free and let the man slump.

He stepped over the groaning bodies, flipping the knife effortlessly. "Scratch that. I now have six reasons not to trust you."

With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the knife at the leader—

But he vanished.

Jalen's eyes widened. "What?"

When he turned back, the man was casually holding a satchel of stolen jewels.

Jalen's stomach twisted. "How the hell did you—?"

The thief smirked. "The better question is... how do you plan on scoring now? See ya around..."

And then—he vanished again.

Jalen whipped his head around—and froze.

The merchant's cart?

Gone.

The food?

Gone.

The entire square?

Completely stripped bare.

Every vendor. Every stall. Every last coin—gone.

Jalen stood in stunned silence, his fists clenching. A slow, simmering anger burned in his chest.

"Fuck!"

Jalen turned around and started to head back home when his nose caught a whiff of freshly baked bread. Instinctively he followed the scent to an alleyway. Up on the rooftop he saw a young girl with her little brother sharing the same bread that he smelt. Staring at the sibling from the rooftop his mind wandered. It would be nothing for him to drop down and take that bread, but his mind and body hesitated. Why?

'Damnit I'm straving but this is one line I won't cross...'

Jalen dropped from the roof. He sighed. "Hey, you two."

The little boy shot up, holding a rusty knife. "Stay back!"

Jalen crouched, raising his hands. "Easy, kid. Not here to hurt you. In fact… how about you two come with me? An alleyway's no place for kids."

The boy didn't lower the knife. "Why should we trust you?"

Jalen smirked. "You shouldn't." He stepped forward, letting the blade press against his palm until it drew blood. "But if you're willing to stab a stranger for your sister, you've got guts. That's good. You'll need it."

The girl placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "We don't have anywhere else to go."

"Now you do," Jalen said simply.

Gathering their belongings, he led them through the streets. 'Lucio's gonna kill me for this... we don't even have any money' But as he glanced back at the kids—starving, shivering, yet stubbornly holding onto each other—he knew he wouldn't change a thing.

"C'mon, brats. Try to keep up."