(Birds Chirping)
The next morning came quickly. Soft sunlight poured over the red sector, and Sunny was already awake, seated cross-legged on the ground as he performed his meditation technique. His breathing was steady, focused, sharpening his senses. A Razor could never afford to let his skills dull not even for a day.
Footsteps approached. Sunny opened his eyes and immediately stood up, bowing.
King Talon stepped out of his cottage, his long coat brushing the dirt as he walked toward Sunny.
"I'm going somewhere. Join me," King Talon said casually.
Sunny straightened. "I should call the others for your protection"
"There's no need," King Talon cut him off with a small wave of his hand. "We're not going far. Let's go, Sunny, my boy."
The king's horse was already prepared. Talon climbed onto it with practiced ease. A guard brought Sunny's horse next.
"Razor Sunny, your horse."
Sunny took the reins and mounted, picking up his sword and hooking it securely to his side. In the Deadlands, a weapon was as necessary as breath.
(Birds Chirping)
Farm workers were already in the fields, tending to crops before the heat of the day arrived. They paused and bowed deeply as King Talon and Razor Sunny rode past. Respect not forced, but earned followed them like a shadow. Talon, the youngest sovereign in Deadlands history. Sunny, the strongest Razor known.
Side by side, they left the sector gates.
"Most people in the blue sector use cars," Sunny commented quietly. "Their crude oil factories make it easy."
Talon laughed lightly. "We do things the old way. A horse teaches you patience and awareness…"
Sunny eyed the king more closely. "You look pale, King Talon."
Talon didn't respond immediately. His gaze drifted over the land, thoughtful and cold.
"Do you know, Sunny… my parents were Raz kids once," Talon began. "My father was beaten to death stealing food near a fruit tree."
Sunny stayed silent. He had heard of such punishments.
"When we found him… they said he was guilty. But he never defended himself. He just bowed his head and… accepted it." Talon clicked his tongue. "He died like that."
The king smiled, but it wasn't warm.
"One day, I went to the former king and told him I wanted to take the Razor Trials. He laughed at me because I was a runt. Weak. A skinny little boy."
Talon chuckled at the memory, though there was no humor in it.
"Still, he agreed. He sent me into the arena, hoping I'd die." The king's grip tightened on his reins. "But I didn't. Instead, I snapped my opponent's neck in five seconds. Then I scooped out his heart with my own hands."
Sunny kept his expression neutral, though he had heard different versions of this story. King Talon spoke of it with a strange pride.
"That was the first time I killed someone with my bare hands," Talon continued. "When the king saw it, he only laughed… then walked away."
"Hyah!" Talon snapped the reins, and the horses quickened their pace.
Meanwhile, in the blue sovereign's territory, the Viper sat with her legs crossed in a meeting hall, addressing a group of men gathered around a wooden table. Maps, knives, and cups of stale water lay scattered between them.
"I need your help," she said firmly. "Your support and your manpower."
The men exchanged glances. They weren't ordinary drifters. Their posture, their scars, their quiet awareness they were trained fighters pretending to be wanderers.
"I've watched you," the Viper continued. "Your abilities. The way you move. You're hiding your real skills, but not well enough."
"Oh? Is that so?" one of the men muttered.
"Yes." She leaned forward. "You're not normal drifters. No one else would notice, but I'm not 'everyone else.'"
The room grew tense.
"If you help me," the Viper said, "I'm willing to make you kings. I will give each of you territory when we take down the red sovereign, Talon."
One of the older drifters sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"I like your proposal, girl… I really do," he admitted. "But siding with you right now? That's suicide. I worked my whole life to build my little sector."
"We will support you," the Viper insisted. "You won't be alone."
The man snorted.
"You're just a girl," he scoffed. "You banished the former blue sovereign's armies, killed him, and replaced them with a band of girls. How can they take on Talon? And what about him?"
The Viper's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"You know who," the man replied coldly. "The number one Razor. Sunny."
A quiet fell over the room.
"Only those two Talon and Sunny could wipe us out before we even understand what happened," the man said.
Then he pointed to a long scar running across his cheek.
"You see this? Sunny gave me that. I was lucky to escape with my life."
The Viper's expression didn't change, but something sharp glinted in her eyes anger, ambition, or something darker. No one could tell.
Before she could respond, the doors suddenly blew open.
Dust scattered. Boots stomped. A messenger rushed in, panting.
"Sovereign! News… from the border!"
Everyone turned.
The Viper stood slowly, her smile cold.
"Looks like the mouse is finally moving."