Chapter Two: Horrendous Confidence Surely Lacks Decorum

[Universe 493, Reality A332, Calklete, Main Continent]

Recently, the capital city of Calklete experienced a government purge. In response, the civilians fled, in an attempt to avoid the ever-growing gang presence. As of now, the Yarofields, a back alley drug cartel disguising themselves as a technology company, rules the main Eastern coast.

Universe 493 consisted of the gang crises, with a majority of its realities falling under the reign of one of either three gangs: The Yarofields, as mentioned previously, the Altruists, an all=female gang rooted in territorial control and propaganda, and the Redancers, a sort of security crew created under the order of a singular entity.

Although not uncommon for there to be zero gang presence, with 208 of Rayno's confirmed 1,394 having little to none, the majority still stands. As for this reality, A332, the Redancers control half the main continent, with the other ruled by the Yarofields.

Rayno has found himself on the border of the latter, crossing into the territory of the Yarofields. Upon his entrance, Rayno was located in an alleyway in front of Main Street, between two vacant buildings.

Emerging from the side, Rayno peered outward onto the street, glancing left and right. Nothing. The streets appeared empty, stretching miles further than Rayno could see. The buildings on the other street side seemed vacant as well, with most of their windows broken in. Plants grew wild on each building's front, erasing their previous brick facing completely. What was once one of the more technologically advanced cities in the Main Continent now looked no better than a village forest.

Taking precautions, Rayno placed his foot on the open road, pushing away from the building side, and then the sidewalk. Stepping forward, the air became still. The hollow echo of silence rang off the building edges, shooting back into various directions.

In the past 6 years, the gangs of reality A332 have been in a stalemate on the North Eastern border, which is where most of their forces lie now. Here, in the South East, Rayno was unlikely to run into any active defenders. However, on the off chance he did, his gun was close by his side.

He made his way, skulking down the city street, weaving between the sidewalk and the road. Periodically, he tapped his earpiece prompting it to give him his location. Still, one dil away from the lever's site post, he continued to inch his way there.

Behind the gateway of an abandoned fire station lay an old RomCycle. Looking through the cracks in the fence's doorway, Rayno noted it was fully intact. Though the cycle had clear rust formations, including some possible exposure to extreme heat and sun. Despite the discoloration, Rayno pressed on, leaping the fence in his path and making his way toward the vehicle.

The vehicle lay in what appeared to be a backyard, surrounded by semi-circular brick fencing behind it. At the front was the back door entrance to the fire station, cut in half by the brick fencing and the gateway leading Rayno inside. Above the brick walls was a thick bush of overgrown ivy, making it impossible to go near.

Without a second thought for surveillance, Rayno began disassembling the cycle, additionally trying to salvage any other, unaffected, pieces. To his dismay, the lever's connection end was broken beyond repair, with multiple cracks leading to the inside of the cycle.

This trip had been a waste of time, not only for himself but for his business as well. There were always risks of finding a defective cycle piece but Rayno figured he could still haggle it in the Harrowed Ember. The few pieces Rayno could acquire were not significant in the slightest, with the most valuable item only selling for 75 quails.

Disappointed, Rayno set back to the place he arrived first. When bouncing one's self, location matters significantly. Bouncing from a different location than where you landed would cause the user to summon themselves elsewhere. Since not all realities and universes are equivalent, distance varies in each. Walking a few steps forward in one may equate to twenty in another, and so on.

After finding this out the hard way, on multiple occasions, Rayno has made it his priority to remember his original landing spots. Now, ready to leave, Rayno stuffs the leftover cycle bits into his jacket pocket. Patting them for good measure, he approaches the fence gate, before suddenly halting.

Small whispers came from the opposite side as if conversations went on in the distance. Frantic, Rayno looked around the small yard, looking for another exit. Nowhere, except an overbearing brick wall, posed a possible escape route for him.

The unknown characters' voices grew nearer as Rayno looked around. Though panicked, Rayno came to terms with his losses. There was no foreseeable escape for him.

The voices finally came within earshot, only seconds before Rayno found a solution.

"I left it here, I'm sure of it" one weary voice announced.

"The North Eastern front still lacks resources and you decided to venture here, to this desolate wasteland to retrieve a stupid RomCycle?" another voice questioned.

"I never asked you to come, Trainee. Besides, that RomCycle is my baby! I can't let those monsters destroy it over some spilled blood in the North."

"If you say so, Sir"

"And remember this, Trainee, neither of us was here today. We simply avoided General Cornelia's eyesight by change."

The voices stopped before the door, allowing a breeze of silence to fill the air. The subtle creaking of the gateway ensued shortly after, followed by the gentle footsteps of each person. The calming atmosphere was almost immediately interrupted by their sight of Rayno. As he stood a few foot lengths away from the door, facing them with his gun in hand.