The Arid Badlands was a waste. A complete and utter waste. The geographical barf bag was composed of square meter upon square meter of sand and post war debris. Filled with charming inhabitants such as Skags, Raaks, and your friendly neighborhood bandit, the badlands was, by no stretch, an expanse of dust and . Not that Lay could complain. This was going to be his temporary home for the time being.

 

After having the misfortune of saving Marcus Kincaid from a pack of Skags, the weapon salesman asked him what he wanted in return.

 

"I need a place to sleep and someone who can tell me about sirens."

 

Marcus looked at him with clear confusion on his face, but the man relented.

 

"I can't offer you a safe place. Those don't exist in Pandora. But I know someone who might help."

 

Lay had nothing. No direction and no one else he could trust, so he followed Marcus into his shabby bus and they were off.

 

"So, you're sending me to a gang leader?"

 

Marcus looked from the wheel, his ashen face turning into a smirk. It was gaunt and unnerving, like he purposely missed something. Like he forgot to mention the treacherous catch in this game of kill or be killed.

 

"Sorta."

 

There it was, the bait. The trap had been setup beautifully and Lay was the sad Skag that happened to walk on it.

 

"What does sorta mean?"

 

Marcus laughs. It's supposed to be a nervous chuckle, but it comes out as menacing and amused. The snares of the trap were clawing into Lay's skin.

 

"They're sorta a gang."

 

"You better explain everything before I shoot your eyes out."

 

Marcus stops the bus with a screech, sending Lay toppling from where he stood, skidding to the front of the vehicle where was Marcus smiling at him sheepishly.

 

"We're here! Everyone off!" He Screams with dramatized happiness, the desperation to kick Lay out of his vehicle bouncing out of his manicured smile.

 

Lay reluctantly gets up and departs from the bus, stepping into the harsh heat and billowing sands.

 

"Hey, kid!" Marcus screams before Lay takes another step.

 

Marcus tosses him a flat device with a black screen and numerous buttons. Lay catches it and give Marcus a questioning glance.

 

"It's an ECHO device. You can use it to talk to other people. I'll talk to you when I have a job for you." With that he shuts the door and drives away, not even giving Lay enough time to react to his odd act of kindness. But if Lay knew anything about Pandora, it was that kindness did not exist. This was for Marcus. A contact to help him with whatever he was to do in the future.

 

But the device would come in handy, so he places it in one if the hoops of his belt next to his shield generator and his Jakobs revolver.

 

Lay huffs before looking around. In front of him was a wall of metal scraps and debris molded together to serve as protection from the inhabitants of the badlands. Remains of roofs and garage platforms aged with rust and dirt surrounded a small expanse of land. On top of the scrap metal wall was mismatched neon letters spelling "tHe Zsteel AbDomen!" And below that an equally mismatched Keep Out sign.

 

By Pandora standard this was a fairly decent living space, spacious, not infested by monsters. Yes, it's practically paradise.

 

A few steps and Lay finds himself at the entrance, or whatever this was supposed to be. There are grates with skulls of Skaggs and other delightful fauna in the surrounding wastelands. There's a transmitter haphazardly latched onto one of the grates. He presses it.

 

There's a loud moan the reverberate through the small encampment. It sounds like a recording, but not just any recording. It's of a man who is clearly in the heat of . It's disconcerting.

 

Then there's muffled screaming from inside. Something that sounds like scolding. Then the receiver springs to life a harsh voice scratching through the wind and static.

 

"Kris, if this is you, I swear I will ask Chanyeol to burn your pubes."

 

Lay does not want to try to understand the threat, but he does answer.

 

"Not Kris. Lay, actually. Marcus sent me."

 

There is background noise and a lot of groaning from the receiver.

 

"I told that sleazy runt that we don't have money."

 

Lay punches the receiver, "I don't need money. Just a place to sleep and information on Sirens."

 

There's an elongated pause, as Lay hears murmurs from a distance.

 

"Okay. Wait there Lay, Chanyeol will fetch you." Then the receiver goes dead.

 

After a few minutes, Lay hears approaching footsteps. He peers through the grates to find a large figure approaching the entrance. He was clad in black leather pants and coverall with chains snug against his chest. He had a youthful visage, big eyes, plump lips, and a smile that was out of place, all glued together by fiery red hair that waved subtly down his head. But the boy was nowhere as pristine as he should have looked. Lay could see the faint scars and bruises of his face, as well as the faint burn marks on the little exposed skin he had.

 

"Your Lay?" He asks with a fairly deep voice that seems to betray his boyish looks.

 

“You’re Chanyeol?”  Chanyeol unlocks the grates, letting it swing and creak open.

 

"Yup! Welcome to the Steel Abdomen." Chanyeol cheers with an enthusiasm that should not be present in Pandora.

 

Chanyeol then walks him through the compound. Inside is a catastrophe of debris and steel. As he the first thing he sees are stacks of steel roofs and platforms they probably scavenged from the wreckage around the badlands. On Lay’s right was a large overhead tank that someone spray painted with the words "This is water Chanyeol. Don't refill your tank here."

 

As they moved forward Lay can see their makeshift garage with skeletons of buggies and tanks. There are various huts shaped liked domes that litter the space, like a small town’s wreckage.

 

"This used to be our village until bandits attacked it and burned everything."

 

Lay doesn't know what to do. This is kind words the rare moments that he supposed to feel sorry for someone but he couldn't care less.

 

"We're kinda thankful. Everyone was ugly and annoying."

 

There's the Pandora compassion.

 

They soon reach what looks like the mayoral office. It was the biggest one in the encampment and had large words spray painted to its front.

 

"Chanyeol! This is the headquarters. Don't get lost."

 

There was also a flag that was placed at the balcony, on it a crude drawing of abs and a over it.

 

They step in before Chanyeol turns around with an apologetic look, one that Lay has seen so many times before. He regrets being hoodwinked twice within the space of an hour, but he doesn't even care.

 

"Sorry. Baek's orders."

 

Lay rolls his eyes.

 

"Lay it on me."

 

Chanyeol then extracts a piece of fabric and roughly places it over Lay’s nostril.

 

Lay breathes in and everything turns black.

 

---

 

When he comes back around he's being prodded by a large metal object. He opens his eyes blearily, everything a mirage of color and haze as his eyes try to reorient themselves to the harsh fluorescent light shining above his head.  

 

Once Lay had blinked a few times, he sees the small, white space that he is stated in. There are no windows and he’s pretty sure that he is strapped to an electric chair. His hands feel numb and he gets the feeling that his head will throb in a while. But what really strikes him is the small figure in front of him with a shotgun aimed straight at his face. A hearty welcome.  

 

"Good, you're awake."

 

Lay attempts to say something but he can't. In front of him was a young man with delicate features and a mop of smooth black hair that seems so misplaced in Pandora. He looks especially pretty and ethereal compared to the Lay has seen frequenting the bars and clubs around the land. His voice is soft, with just a bit of rasp at the end, but it's smooth and soothing to the ear. And he realizes that this was the voice that he was talking to in the vocoder.

 

"We took your guns and kinda frisked through you, so don't even think of trying anything funny."

 

Lay just nods. He knew the drill.

 

"Nice , by the way."

 

Of course, they frisked there as well.

 

"But not as nice as mine." It sounded like a challenge. One that Lay had no concern taking part of.

 

But still, Lay moves his head curiously trying to see if the boy's was as glorious as he says it would be. But the shotgun is once again sticking to his skin and a warning voice is rasping through the air.

 

"Don't even try. You're not worthy."

 

Lay looks at the weapon wedged against his face and nods. Noticing something written on the side.

 

"Best ?" Lay asks as he reads the messy text against the red steel of the guy's barrel.

 

Baekhyun's smiles.

 

"Like it? Custom made. Chanyeol got it from me after I gave him the best ever." There's a lot of pride running through his voice. A sense of accomplishment and lust tinkling at the back of his throat.

 

"Okay. That's nice, I guess."

 

"Sweetest thing ever."

 

The boy withdraws the shotgun and takes a good look at Lay. He starts strolling around, waving his shotgun leisurely with each step.

 

"The name's Baek, I'm the brain of this gang of glorified retards. And the one you have to impress."

 

He stops and give Lay a steely gaze, "Before you can join, you'll have to prove yourself first."

 

"So what do I have to do."

 

Bake smiles, "You met Chanyeol, right?"

 

"Tall and stupid?"

 

Baekhyun's nods, "He really likes fire. Loves it actually. I mean, if he wasn't ing me, he'd probably fire, that's how dumb he is."

 

Lay raises an eyebrow at the clear venomous tone seeping through the small boy's words, "Are you actually jealous of fire?"

 

Baek raises an eyebrow and his gun.

 

"Say that again and we'll see how far I can shoot your out of your ."

 

Lay smiles, "I said nothing."

 

Baek takes away the gun and walks again, "Again, idiot loves his fire, which also means he loves his flamethrower. And when you have a flamethrower you need gasoline. We don't have gasoline."

 

"So you want me to get gasoline for your boyfriend."

 

"Dear, if things were that easy, Chanyeol would have done it himself."

 

Lay should have known. The easiest thing in Pandora was death, everything else was a complication waiting to be explored.

 

"Our rival gang, the Burning Eyebrows have taken claim over an oil reserve somewhere up north. They've cut off our supply and we're in dire need of fuel for our buggies and Chanyeol’s flamethrower. I need you to kill everything in the reserve and redirect the flow back here."

 

Lay nods. Simple enough.

 

"So, I kill some thugs, redirect the flow and everything's good?"

 

Baek nods, "Pretty much. We have an insider up at the reserve, he'll help you when you get there."

 

Lay nods.

 

"You up for it?"

 

Lay smiles, "I've got nothing better to do."

 

 

A/N

It's a start. But yeah, it's going to center around Lay, but we'll get everyone in the mix later on.