It’s a bleak, oppressive night in Sin City, the sky shrouded in dark clouds and neon glow. The streets pulse with the chaotic energy of partying and reckless abandon—clubs blaring, laughter and shouts echoing off the dilapidated and high end buildings, shadows dancing in the flickering light. Amidst the chaos, Mori moves with quiet purpose, his signature jacket and gloves contrasting sharply against the gritty backdrop. He approaches an old payphone, the metal battered and stained by years of neglect. With deliberate precision, he drops in a few coins, then types in a cryptic sequence of numbers. As he lifts the receiver, his expression darkens—an almost feral intensity flickering behind his eyes. He presses the phone to his ear, his gloved hand clutching the handle tightly. The annoyance etched into his face is far more vicious and raw than usual, as if this call is a catalyst for something far darker lurking beneath his calm exterior. The night seems to hold its breath, waiting for whatever storm was about to unfold.
He muttered to himself, "Come on, pick the hell up," frustration evident in his voice, as he finally managed to get in contact with who he was trying to reach. "Yeah, it's me..." Mori's expression soured further, a confused look crossed his face as he pulled the payphone from his ear and stared at it in disbelief. Then, holding it up to his mouth, he snaps, "What the fuck do you mean, 'Who's me'? It's the guy who's gonna slice your face off and eat it like fucking prosciutto. Oh yeah, now it's all coming back to you—how convenient! Look, stop messing around with me before I leak the intel I have on you, and you end up with a divorce and a dishonorable discharge. The only person allowed to joke here is me."
Mori pauses briefly, listening intently for a response. "The envelope and your incentive are at the new dead drop location—same deal, but I want this done quick and clean." Mori waits, his gaze fixed as he listens. "Quick as in today, alright?" he says sharply, just before the line goes dead. Without hesitation, he harshly presses the receiver hook with his finger and slams the payphone down to hang it up. He turns on his heel and walks away, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, already moving on to his next objective.
Solar was being processed into the Iron Nexus alongside other new arrivals, each of them undergoing the same uncertain journey. Inside the crowded holding cell, Solar lingered amidst a tense cage of emotions—some inmates wailed softly, their bodies trembling; others lay curled up, exhausted and trying to sleep through the chaos; a few panicked, eyes darting anxiously as they awaited their turn. Every inmate, including Solar, bore the weight of their genetic anomaly, restrained by biological containment collars that hummed softly with security.
The air was thick with a mixture of desperation and dread, punctuated by muffled voices and the distant clang of metal doors. Solar’s gaze drifted around the cell, taking in the faces of those around him—each bearing scars of their past and fears for the future. As the announcement finally came over the comm system, calling his name, Solar was gently but quickly escorted by PoM personnel. The sterile corridors of the Iron Nexus led him to the medical facility, where he would undergo a thorough examination, the first step in what was likely to be an uncertain and perilous integration into this formidable new environment.
~1~
Inmates' anguished screams echo through the facility—raging, screeching, and pleading in a harrowing outcry of despair. In the background, the brutal sound of PoM correctional officers administering harsh beatings punctuated the chaos, highlighting the harshness and blatant cruelty of the environment. Solar arrives at the medical facility, where he is greeted by Dr. Stultz Steiner, a poised and professional PoM experimenter affiliated with the Iron Nexus. Steiner offers a courteous, measured greeting, his demeanor calm amidst the turmoil.
Steiner proceeds to conduct a comprehensive physical examination of Solar, meticulously checking vital signs and physical condition. Following this, he administers a mental aptitude test—an assessment all inmates are required to undergo. Unlike the violent and invasive procedures that will follow in later experiments led by Dr. Stultz and his scientists, this initial testing phase is straightforward and non-threatening, designed to gauge mental resilience without inherent violence. The ominous shift in tone deepens as Steiner leans in, his voice laced with a calculated curiosity. He probes cautiously about Solar's mutation, but Solar remains silent—calm and impenetrable, refusing to reveal any details. Steiner pauses, observing Solar's unwavering stoicism, then chuckles softly—a hollow, almost mocking sound. With a deceptive pat on Solar's back, Steiner's smile hints at the darkness to come, foreshadowing even more intense and unsettling trials under Dr. Stultz's upcoming experiments. The air thickens with foreboding, hinting at the harrowing challenges that lie ahead.
Solar is a rugged young man with a commanding presence, his serious face often shadowed by a hint of youth. Despite his youth, his features are sharply defined—high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and piercing eyes that seem to assess every situation with calculated precision. His jet-black hair is kept short and practical, often slightly tousled from combat or tactical maneuvers. His physique is impressively muscular—broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, and powerful limbs—testament to years of rigorous training and combat experience. His stance exudes confidence and readiness, embodying the life of a disciplined, tactical soldier shaped by a life raised among mercenaries and hitmen alike.
Solar concludes his physical examination, feeling a faint flicker of unease as Steiner subtly hints at the possibility of future experiments—an idea that threatens Solar deeply. Despite Steiner’s veiled threats, Solar is ultimately released, only to be roughly dragged back to his cell amidst a brief, demeaning display of “light hazing” by the PoM correctional officers. The cold, sterile cell seems to close in on him as he awakens the next day.
Later, Solar makes his way to the mess hall within his pod, where he encounters another inmate— a mutant named Knox. Knox offers him the lowdown on the prison’s hierarchy and the notorious gang known as the Bluddy Six. Solar, wary and distrustful by nature, initially dismisses Knox’s words, reluctant to absorb the information. However, he recognizes that his options are limited and that staying alert is his best chance for survival. With a cautious eye and an open mind, Solar decides to listen, knowing he has little to lose and much to learn about the dangerous world he’s now part of.
~2~
A couple months pass, during which Solar endures relentless torment at Steiner’s hands alone. Under the pretense of conducting “research” and “experimentation,” Steiner subjects Solar to brutal and systematic abuse. However, it’s clear to those observing that Steiner’s true intent is far more sinister: he seeks to break Solar’s spirit, inflicting genuine pain and suffering to serve his own twisted purposes. Steiner appears to derive a disturbing sense of satisfaction from this cruelty, blurring the lines between scientific curiosity and sadistic pleasure. Eventually, Solar is released from Steiner’s custody, battered and exhausted, only to be forcibly dragged back to his cell, the weight of his ordeal etched deeply into his battered form and nearly broken resolve.
A prisoner approaches Solar’s cell cautiously, slipping something small and wrapped in cloth through the bars—a gesture of tentative hope. Solar’s eyes flicker with curiosity as he unwraps the package, revealing a carefully crafted herbal concoction, perhaps a medicated brew or a potent stimulant, designed to hasten his recovery. Either way this act of clandestine kindness was a perk of being strong and commanding within the prison walls.
Over the past two and a half months, Solar had transformed from a mere inmate into a formidable pod boss, forging his own faction—the Bloodhounds. Under his leadership, they have carved out a dangerous territory beneath the surface, engaging in relentless gang wars against the Bluddy Six. These skirmishes—sometimes small, sometimes brutal—are fought over control of the underground pods, vital for securing commissary supplies and other illicit commodities that sustain the prison economy.
Solar’s rise to power has not been without its challenges. The Bluddy Six, a notorious gang known for their ruthlessness and cunning, have proven to be formidable adversaries. Their leader, a cunning and sadistic figure named Vex, has made it clear that he will stop at nothing to maintain his grip on the prison’s underworld. Solar knows that to survive in this brutal environment, he must remain vigilant and strategic, always one step ahead of his enemies.
As the Bloodhounds continue to grow in strength and influence, Solar finds himself at the center of a web of alliances and rivalries, navigating the treacherous waters of prison politics with a mix of cunning and brute force. The stakes are high, and every decision could mean the difference between life and death in this unforgiving world.
As Solar’s influence grew, so did his tough militaristic attitude and ruthlessness. No longer content with passive resistance, he had begun a campaign of meticulous elimination, targeting four key members of the Bluddy Six with cold precision. Each maiming and disappearance a calculated move, dismantling his enemies one by one, and consolidating his power within his part of the Nexus. His transformation into a ruthless pod boss marked a turning point—he was no longer just a prisoner; he was a rising force, determined to carve out his dominion amid the brutal underground hierarchy.
Due to this Solar had soon grown more than tired of the Bluddy six. Tensions that simmered beneath the surface finally erupted into a full-scale gang war in the mess hall, pitting what remained of the Bluddy Six against the BloodHounds. The chaos was fierce, but ultimately, the BloodHounds emerged victorious. Correctional officers swiftly intervened, breaking up the brawl and ordering everyone back to their cells for an early lights-out. In the aftermath, Solar ruthlessly fought back in the mob of inmates.The nicknamed 'warden,' aka pod boss of the Bluddy Six lay lifeless with a shank in his chest and throat. It wasn’t seen but it was known. Solar had asserted his dominance before being returned to his cell, his resolve unbroken.
In the days that followed, Solar’s reputation as a formidable pod boss solidified. The Bloodhounds, now a force to be reckoned with, began to expand their influence, forging alliances with other inmates and asserting control over key resources within the prison. Solar’s leadership style was marked by a blend of strategic cunning and brutal efficiency, earning him both respect and fear among his peers.
~3~
Solar dedicated himself tirelessly within the nexus, enduring relentless tests and examinations conducted by Steiner. As the days passed, a dark shadow of vengeance grew steadily within him, fueling a deepening sense of anger and despair. Despite his unwavering belief in his own innocence, he found little solace or support among those around him. The weight of suspicion and mistrust weighed heavily, causing him to succumb to waves of hatred and depression. The environment was suffocating, leaving him isolated in his suffering, with only faint glimmers of hope flickering on the horizon.
In the midst of this turmoil, Solar’s resolve began to harden. He realized that to survive in this unforgiving world, he would need to embrace the darkness within him. The anger that had once threatened to consume him now became a source of strength, propelling him forward in his quest for justice and retribution. With each passing day, he grew more determined to confront the forces that had wronged him, vowing to reclaim his life and restore his sense of purpose.
Fortunately for Solar, he was not entirely alone in his plight. While trust within the nexus was fragile, someone on the outside recognized his predicament and was determined to help. This external ally saw through the false accusations and the lies that had taken hold of Solar’s mind. Eventually offering a lifeline of support and understanding. The outsiders' intervention promised the possibility of liberation and justice, sparking a faint glimmer of hope amidst the bleakness that entrapped Solar Reign. It was a reminder that, even in the depths of despair, compassion and truth could be the key to breaking free from the cycle of torment.
Seven months in Solar’s cell had worn heavily on him, the relentless confinement gnawing at his spirit. Yet today, a faint flicker of hope ignited within as he approached the battered toilet. Carefully, he loosened the corroded plating connecting to the wall, revealing a hidden compartment carved into the shadows. With a cautious nudge, he moved the grimy fixture aside, exposing a small, clandestine box concealed behind the wall’s peeling surface. Inside, neatly folded notes and scraps of paper lay meticulously stacked — fragments of secret messages, cryptic clues, and vital intelligence, whispering promises of escape and salvation amid the darkness.
Solar's keen eyes fixed on the latest note he had received from a grimy, untrustworthy PoM correctional officer. With meticulous care, he gathered the scattered fragments, aligning them with precision. As the pieces came together, a vivid and compelling image emerged: two hands tearing free from shattered handcuffs, reaching upward toward a regal crown. The stark contrast and bold imagery conveyed a potent message—one of liberation, defiance, and unyielding ambition—resonating deeply with Solar's relentless resolve.
With a newfound sense of purpose, Solar held the note securely, feeling its weight against his chest. The promise of freedom and the chance to reclaim his life fueled his determination. He knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was ready to face whatever lay in store. The image of the hands breaking free from their shackles served as a powerful reminder that he was not defined by his circumstances; he was a force to be reckoned with, and nothing would stand in his way.
Adjacent to the image, the notes contained crucial directives and a powerful message: “ALLIES,” “FREEDOM SOON,” “TRUTH OF INNOCENCE,” and an urgent plea: “BE READY!!!” These words embodied a strategic plan, a steadfast promise of imminent escape, and a stark reminder to remain vigilant and prepared for what lay ahead.
Solar’s heart raced as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. The notes were not just a lifeline; they were a beacon of hope, illuminating a path toward liberation and justice. With each word, he felt a surge of determination coursing through him, igniting a fire within that had long been dormant. He knew that he had to act swiftly and decisively, for the time for change was drawing near.
Solar stared at the assembled puzzle, a determined glint in his eyes. The pieces were in place, and the path to freedom was within reach. The next move was his.
~4~