Chapter 02

Chapter 02

Meat and Masks

They came at dawn.

Not soldiers. Not guards. Not gangs.

The people came.

Nii Boye noticed them first as shadows moving through the thinning gas. The night’s poison still hung low, but the early sun burned weakly through it, turning the air a dirty gold. Men, women, children—faces wrapped in rags, torn uniforms, old school shirts—approached the fallen Agama with cautious reverence.

No one spoke at first.

The monster lay where it had fallen, its massive body already stiffening, scales dulling as the neon blood cooled. Steam rose from the wounds Nii Boye had carved into it, mixing with the gas like breath leaving a corpse.

Marius stood a safe distance away, mask sealed tight.

“This is not part of the contract,” he said, voice filtered and flat. “We need this cleared before inspectors arrive.”

Nii Boye didn’t answer.

An old woman stepped forward. Her face was wrapped in layers of cloth, but her eyes were sharp—too sharp for someone who had lived this long in the Outerlands.

“Please,” she said, her voice raw. “Let us take it.”

Marius scoffed. “Take what? That thing is contaminated. Mutated. You’ll kill yourselves.”

The woman tilted her head. “The air already tries to kill us every day.”

Behind her, others nodded. Thin arms. Hollow ribs. Children clinging to adults who smelled of smoke and rust.

Nii Boye turned to Marius. “They can have it.”

Marius stared at him. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Nii Boye stepped closer. The neon-wrapped hilts of his swords caught the morning light.

“I just did.”

For a long moment, the only sound was the hiss of gas drifting across concrete. Then Marius cursed under his breath and waved his hand.

“Fine. But when someone drops dead, it’s not on the company.”

The people didn’t wait.

They surged forward with knives, hacksaws, broken blades—tools worn smooth by desperation. They worked fast, expertly, carving flesh, slicing muscle, avoiding glowing organs they had learned to fear. Smoke and steam rose as meat was hauled away in sacks and wheelbarrows.

Nii Boye watched silently.

A young boy passed him, dragging a chunk of scaled meat nearly as big as his torso. Their eyes met briefly. The boy nodded once—serious, grateful—before disappearing back into the haze.

That night, the Outerlands would eat.

—

Word spread faster than the gas.

By evening, Nii Boye heard his new name whispered across the slums. Neon Nii Boye. Some said he was born in Songo and cast out. Others said his eyes were cursed by the war. A few claimed he was not human at all.

None of it mattered.

What mattered was that the Agama hadn’t crossed the wall.

It never did.

Later that night, Nii Boye sat alone at his post, mask off for a brief moment while his portable filter mask unit lay beside him. The air burned his lungs immediately, forcing him to pull the mask back on.

He looked down at his hands.

They were steady.

Too steady.

The swords lay across his knees. He wiped the blades clean with an old cloth, watching the neon handles glow faintly even when no light touched them.

“You’re not supposed to exist,” he murmured to them.

A voice answered from the darkness.

“They always say that about protectors.”

Nii Boye spun, swords half-raised.

A figure stepped into the floodlight—tall, wrapped head to toe in layered fabric and armor plates scavenged from different eras. A heavy-duty gas mask hid the face, lenses scratched but sharp.

“Who are you?” Nii Boye asked.

“Someone who has been watching the ground,” the figure replied. “And the walls.”

Nii Boye narrowed his glowing eyes. “Then you saw what happened.”

“I did,” the stranger said. “And the Nta also felt it.”

The ground trembled—just slightly.

Nii Boye felt it immediately.

“Not here,” he said.

“Not yet,” the stranger agreed. “But they’re coming more often. Too often.”

Nii Boye stood. “Why?”

The stranger hesitated, then spoke softly.

“Because something is waking them up.”

The floodlights flickered again.

Far beyond the slums, deep beneath poisoned soil and forgotten mines, something massive shifted—aware now that the Outerlands had found a blade that could fight back.

And it was watching Neon Nii Boye closely.