Once through The Threshold, a whiplash of sand cannoned towards them. Samantha and Max instinctively closed their eyes, shielding their faces from the abrasive gust. Sabir squinted through the dust, trying to get his bearings in the stark landscape.

"Hey, you three!" the man called out, his voice carrying over the wind. "Wait up!"

Max, always eager to chat, started to turn back. "What do you think he wants?" he asked, already beginning to engage.

Sabir grabbed Max by the arm, pulling him forward. "We need to keep moving," he insisted, his voice firm. "We don't have time for distractions."

Max frowned, clearly puzzled. "Why are you being so uptight? The guy just helped us out and spent a lot of money. The least we can do is hear him out."

Samantha looked back at the man, her expression conflicted. "Yeah, Sabir, he's right. It’s kind of rude to just leave like this."

The man, seeing their hesitation, simply shrugged his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered by their reaction. "Kids these days," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "So ungrateful."

Sabir felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. "Let's go," he said, urging his friends forward. "We have more important things to worry about." A man so out of place, heading into The Limbo, was a bad sign. They needed to get back to Havana as soon as possible; interacting with such a strange man could derail everything.

As they moved away from The Threshold, the sandy winds began to die down, revealing a barren, unforgiving landscape stretching out before them. The Limbo was a harsh and desolate place, a stark contrast to the relative safety of Havana. Sabir’s mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead, his unease growing with every step.

Max glanced back one last time at the man in the Hawaiian shirt, who was now a distant figure against the backdrop of the imposing gates. "You sure we're doing the right thing, Sabir?" he asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

Sabir didn't respond immediately. He wasn't sure himself. But he knew they couldn't trust any random stranger. "We'll be fine," he said, more to convince himself than the others. "We just need to stay focused."

The trio pressed on, each step taking them further from the safety of Havana and deeper into the unknown. The man watched them go, a small smile playing on his lips as he turned back towards the gate, his thoughts his own.

As the three kids disappeared into the swirling sands, a voice called out from behind the man in the Hawaiian shirt. "We've been waiting for you for months, Miguel. Where have you been?"

Miguel jumped, spinning around with a fist already flying towards the source of the voice. The punch, aimed with deadly precision, was evaded by a short cloaked figure who moved with astonishing speed. Miguel's fist slammed into the ground, causing a tremor that sent sand flying into the air.

"You really want to fight me?" the cloaked figure asked, his voice cool and unruffled.

Miguel blinked, recognizing the figure. "Oh, Yuen, it's just you. Don't sneak up on me like that—I could've killed you."

Yuen stood up, his gray, ragged cloak fluttering slightly in the residual wind. He was short and wiry, with straight black hair peeking out from beneath his hood. His features were sharp, and his eyes dark and piercing.

"If I wanted, you'd already be dead," Yuen replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Miguel chuckled, brushing the sand off his knuckles. "Yeah? Want to try right here, right now?"

Yuen shook his head, his expression turning serious. "No, we’re getting sidetracked. Where have you been?"

Miguel's face lit up as if remembering a pleasant dream. "I got sidetracked in Sector 0. There were so many fun casinos."

Yuen's eyes narrowed. "You've been gambling? You know you have a terrible gambling problem and you never win."

Miguel shrugged nonchalantly. "What happened to all the money we gave you?" Yuen pressed, his tone growing more apprehensive.

Miguel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Used the last 100 credits getting myself and those three kids through The Threshold."

Yuen's jaw dropped. "Who were those kids?"

Miguel shrugged again. "No clue. But one of them was about to get killed, so I thought I'd help."

Yuen facepalmed, clearly exasperated. "The boss has been waiting for you. She's gonna be pissed."

"Oh well," Miguel said with a carefree grin. "Lead the way to our base. Last I heard you, you stole a place from some bandits. I'm excited to see what you did with the place."

With a sigh, Yuen turned and started walking, motioning for Miguel to follow. The two figures moved through the desert landscape, their forms gradually blending into the sandy horizon.

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Meanwhile, Sabir, Max, and Samantha trudged through the harsh environment of the Limbo. As they walked, the landscape gradually transformed from the empty, windswept dunes into an area dotted with signs of human habitation. Broken-down shacks, makeshift hovels, and tattered tents began to appear, each one a testament to the hard lives of the people who lived there.

The trio felt the weight of curious and suspicious gazes upon them as they passed. Sabir, noticing Max and Samantha's discomfort, spoke in a low, urgent tone, "Don't make eye contact, and don't seem scared. Just keep walking."

Max swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously around, while Samantha nodded, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead. They moved past individuals who seemed hardened by the environment, their faces lined with the struggles of daily survival. A group of children played in the dirt, their laughter a stark contrast to the otherwise bleak surroundings.

As they continued, a larger structure came into view in the distance. Even from afar, its size was imposing. The building, though worn and weathered, stood out significantly against the backdrop of smaller, more dilapidated homes. It was roughly the size of four houses from The Commons put together.

Max, unable to contain his curiosity, pointed towards the distant structure. "What is that place?" he asked.

Sabir's expression grew serious. "That's the base of the Wyrm Raiders," he explained. "The biggest faction of bandits in The Limbo. They rule over this area."

Samantha’s eyes widened. "Bandits? How do they maintain control?"

Sabir shrugged. "They're powerful, ruthless, and have numbers. They demand tribute from everyone around here. It’s how they survive and thrive in this wasteland."

Max glanced back at the imposing structure, a mix of fear and fascination in his eyes. "I can’t believe people live like this," he murmured.

Sabir nodded. "It’s a harsh life, but people adapt. You have to, if you want to survive out here."

They continued walking, the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on them. The streets grew narrower, and the shacks more densely packed. The stench of uncollected garbage and unwashed bodies hung heavily in the air. Every step deeper into the Limbo seemed to echo with the despair and desperation of its inhabitants.

As they neared Sabir’s home, he glanced over his shoulder at his friends. “I want to introduce you to my neighbor, Mrs. Norris. She’s known me my whole life. She’s like family.”

Max and Samantha exchanged glances, looking forward to meeting someone who had been a constant in Sabir’s life.

They approached the shack opposite Sabir’s, but something was off. The usual signs of life, no matter how minimal, were absent. As they drew closer, a sickeningly strong stench hit them. Sabir's steps faltered, a sense of dread settling in his gut.

“What’s that smell?” Max asked, covering his nose.

Sabir didn't answer. He hurried forward, only to stop dead in his tracks. There, lying by the shack, was a corpse. A few meters away, a severed head lay in the dirt. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer—it was Mrs. Norris.

“No… no, no, no,” Sabir muttered, stumbling towards the body. His friends followed slowly, horror etched on their faces.

Sabir knelt beside the remains, his hands shaking as he reached out to pick up Mrs. Norris’s head. Tears streamed down his face as he cradled it gently. “How did this happen?” he choked out, his voice breaking. “She was just… she was just here.”

Max and Samantha stood back, unable to process the scene before them. Max’s face turned pale, and Samantha’s eyes filled with tears. They had seen death before, but nothing like this.

Sabir’s shoulders shook with sobs. Mrs. Norris had been a kind soul, always looking out for him, always offering a helping hand. The sight of her lifeless, desecrated body filled him with a mix of grief and fury.

“I… I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Who would do this?”

A little boy with a missing tooth, cautiously approached. “Yesterday,” he said, his voice low with a slight lisp. “Some man in black came, he came asking for you. He went to the old lady. When he left, he sliced her head with these shadows. Zhoom.” The boy explained with a sound effect.

Sabir’s grief morphed into anger. He gently laid Mrs. Norris’s head down and stood up, his fists clenched. “Cassius,” he spat. “He did this... and to think he was gaining my trust.”

Sabir’s mind raced with memories of Cassius, the man who had seemed like an ally when they met just yesterday. He recalled their conversations, the shared goals, and the fleeting moments where he believed he had found a friend. Now, it all felt like a cruel illusion, a facade masking the monster within. Sabir’s chest tightened as the realization of betrayal hit him like a hammer. Cassius had exploited his trust, using it as a weapon to inflict the deepest wound.

He looked down at Mrs. Norris’s lifeless body, his heart aching with a profound sense of loss. She had been more than a neighbor—she had been a beacon of kindness and stability in his chaotic life. The grief was almost unbearable, threatening to crush him under its weight. The image of her gentle smile, now replaced by the brutal reality of her murder, tore at his soul. Tears streamed down his face as he knelt beside her, whispering a silent apology for not being there to protect her.

A surge of rage coursed through him, mingling with the sorrow. How could Cassius do this? How could someone who seemed to have his best interests at heart completely betray him in such a heinous manner? Sabir's fists tightened until his knuckles turned white, the desire for revenge burning fiercely within him. He swore to himself that he would make Cassius pay for what he had done, for shattering the fragile sense of safety he had clung to.

Max and Samantha, still reeling from the shock, moved closer to Sabir. “We need to get out of here,” Max said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not safe.”

Sabir nodded, standing up and wiping his tears away. His expression hardened with resolve. He wouldn’t let Mrs. Norris’s death be in vain. He would channel his grief and anger into a force of determination, using it to fuel his quest for justice. “Cassius,” he muttered again, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. “You’ll pay for this. I swear it.”

Max and Samantha, seeing the transformation in Sabir’s demeanor, exchanged worried glances.

With heavy hearts, they set to work, digging a grave for Mrs. Norris. The task was somber, each clump of dirt lifted by Max and Samantha’s telekinesis a reminder of the brutality of their world. As they laid her to rest, Sabir made a silent vow to himself: he would find a way to get revenge, to somehow kill the Government's Hound.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their loss hanging heavily in the air. Sabir felt a mix of grief, anger, and determination swirling within him. He glanced at Max and Samantha, their faces stricken with shock from what they witnessed.

As they turned to leave, Sabir cast one last look at the freshly dug grave. “Goodbye, Mrs. Norris,” he whispered. “I promise, I won’t let this go unanswered.”