We drove in silence all the way to Tuas Checkpoint. We passed small pockets of Rebels on the streets and loitering outside buildings, but true to Rajan’s word, no one stopped us. No one even tried.

  I used the quiet to think. A thought had been chewing at the back of my mind ever since we rolled into the chaos at New Jurong.

  Did I cause this?

  They hit the settlement just a few hours after I escaped West Gate. Was that really coincidence? Did I drag the Temple’s attention straight to them? The idea sat in my chest like a stone. I knew if I kept digging into it, I was going to drop myself into a hole I might not climb out of.

  But I still could not shake it. The timing was too close. Maybe they had already planned the attack and we just sped up their schedule. Maybe they would have come anyway. It did not change the fact that a lot of people were dead. It was a minor miracle we still had as many survivors as we did, and I was grateful for that, even as the guilt tried to worm its way in.

  My eyes drifted to the top-left of my HUD. The loading circle was still there, quietly spinning away. I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, wondering if this thing was a dud and the installation had failed, or if something was still happening in the background that I really was not going to like.

  I did not have time to dwell on it. Two scrambler motorbikes rode up the road toward us, engines growling. The riders were tall guys in spiked helmets and leather jackets, like budget background extras from a Mad Max reboot.

  We slowed to a stop and Shawn wound down the window. The riders told us they were our escort to Rajan and that we were to follow them. We traded sidelong glances, but none of us argued.

  They led us all the way into the bus bays and signalled for us to stop. One of them pointed toward the building and told us to leave the vehicle and proceed on foot.

  We hesitated. I let out a sigh. This was what we came for. If this was a trap, backing out now was not going to save us.

  We climbed out of the truck and walked into the cavernous departure hall. It did not look like a checkpoint anymore. It looked like an arena.

  The old crowd barriers were gone. In their place was a massive open hall, packed with Rebels. They wore all kinds of mismatched clothing and carried an equally random mix of weapons. They ringed the entire first floor in a loose semi-circle facing us, with even more lining the second and third floor corridors above, looking down.

  There were thousands of them.

  They cheered as we entered. The sound rolled over us like a wave. I felt like I had just stepped into the Thunderdome.

  Our party chat pinged.

  Siva: What the fuck dude…

  Emerging from the crowd were Rajan and the guitar player from before. The guy still had his Fender strapped across his chest. We hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward to meet them in the centre of the hall. I took one more step ahead, letting the rest of my team fall in behind me as cover.

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  “I knew you would come,” Rajan said with a smile, offering his hand.

  I took it. His grip was firm and warm and I hated that it felt normal. To his right, guitar guy gave me a two-fingered salute. I nodded back at him.

  “I think it is time we extended our truce,” I began, but Rajan raised a finger and cut me off.

  “Not a truce. We had a deal. Not a truce,” he said, still smiling that calm, pleasant smile. I wanted to punch it off his face, but now was not the time.

  “Then we need to extend our deal,” I said instead. “We've suffered a setback and we need your help.”

  The crowd had mostly stopped cheering by then, but the hall was still loud. Weapons scraped and boots shifted as voices muttered across the arena. I kept one eye on Rajan and the other on the ring of Rebels all around us.

  “How many did you lose?” Rajan asked. His expression shifted. The geniality vanished like someone flipped a switch.

  I paused before answering. “Enough.”

  He folded one arm across his chest and tapped his chin with the fingers of his other hand, thinking. After a few seconds, he sighed and looked at me, then at the rest of my team.

  “I will listen to your request if…” He let the last word hang there.

  “If?” I echoed.

  “If you beat my champion in combat,” he said. He did not take his eyes off me.

  “What bullshit is this?” I felt my anger spike. Jess reached out from behind and placed a hand on my shoulder. The touch was light, but it did the job. My temper eased before I said something I would regret.

  Rajan raised an eyebrow at the gesture, then carried on. “I need to know how serious you are. How committed you are. If you cannot even fight my people, what chance do you have against them?”

  He raised his voice on that last word. The crowd answered, roaring in approval, slamming weapons against armour and walls.

  Our party chat pinged.

  Siva: What the fuck.

  Shawn: I’m game. I’ll down him in seconds.

  Chris: Wait.

  “And if we win, you will help us,” I said aloud.

  “If you win, I will listen to your proposal. That is all,” he replied, taking a step closer.

  I matched him and stepped forward as well. I recognised the move. I had seen enough posturing in corporate meetings to know a pissing contest when I was in one. He wanted the Temple gone. With the right coordination, we could arm and activate thousands across the different settlements. He would end up with an army big enough to crush the Temple, but he wanted proof first.

  “Bring it on,” I said, smiling back at him.

  Rajan lifted a hand and someone stepped forward from the back of the hall. I studied the man as he approached. He wore a tank top tucked into cargo pants and army boots. He was impossibly muscular, his chest straining against the fabric, his biceps about the size of my thigh.

  The most obvious thing, though, was the mask. A full-on luchador mask.

  My first thought was the Batman villain. Bane. He wanted us to fight Bane. Of course he did.

  Siva stepped forward, both swords materialising in his hands. I shook my head and motioned for him to step back. Shawn took his place, cracking his neck and knuckles with a grin.

  “Jess,” I said, turning to her. “Please take care of that cartoon for us.”

  Jess stared at me, eyes wide. Rajan laughed and started clapping, delighted. My chat filled with Shawn and Siva demanding to know what I was doing.

  Chris: Jess. Do you trust me?

  For a moment, there was uncertainty in her eyes. Then her expression hardened. Her morningstar appeared in her hand as she stepped forward to meet the masked giant.

  Rajan kept clapping and turned to address the hall. “Your champions!” he announced, his voice booming off the walls.

  He began walking back toward his side with the guitar player. I motioned to Shawn and Siva to fall back with me. We retreated as well, leaving a wide space between Jess and the big guy as the crowd began chanting and beating their weapons again.

  Shawn and Siva were still muttering in chat, questioning my sanity. I ignored them and told them once more to have faith.

  The crowd roared as Jess and, well, Bane circled each other. He did not draw a weapon. He just kept flexing, muscles bulging, like he thought that alone would frighten her.

  Somewhere in the hall, a foghorn sounded.

  Both of them lunged.