For Iron, time slowed to a crawl. The shock that had rendered him still had been replaced by adrenaline. All around him, people were starting to move in towards them. The Outliers were going to get swarmed, and fast. In his peripheral vision he saw someone reach out to apprehend Young Blood. Instinctually Iron turned, and threw the revolver into their face, the collision letting out a loud crack. The other Outliers began to move as well, fending off the rush of gang members who believed that they were responsible for killing the leader of the most influential and powerful gang in Vim. Iron had to do something to get his boys out alive, otherwise they’d all share the same fate as Cyrus. They needed room to maneuver so it was time to unleash some magic. Wind began to swirl around his body and he clapped his hands together, dispersing the wind in all directions. The attack was strong enough to send their assailants off their feet, flipping them over their seats.

“OUTLIERS! SCATTER!” Iron screamed.

The Outliers understood, it was time to get the hell out of there. Rockafella pointed down, showing them where they needed to go. He rose to his feet and, pushing off some more assailants, started to bolt down the stairs, weaving between punches and kicks. The others followed, fighting their way through the chaos.

They were halfway down the stairs when the attacks increased in intensity. Fireballs and lightning were shot their way. Across the arena, the gang members that could use magic were casting elemental spells. Lunkhead rushed to the front, and activated his own ability, encasing his arms in a metal coat. With them he swatted away the elemental attacks as the others continued to fight their way down the stairs, trying their best to escape the multitude that sought their heads. They made it to the base of the steps, past most attackers and were now in a dark tunnel that would lead to the outside. However if they thought they were home free, they were wrong. Outside, they could see red and blue lights and hear sirens blare. It only meant one thing: the cops had arrived.

“All of you get on the ground right now!” a voice bellowed from outside.

“Fuck!” West cursed, stopping in place.

He whirled around, seeing that Lunkhead, Young Blood and Feral were holding off their pursuers. The rest had stopped with West, knowing going outside wasn’t an option.

“Iron what are we gonna do?!” West yelled over the chaos.

Iron stood still, trying to process the situation when he saw a small gas canister land at their feet.

“Tear gas!” he exclaimed.

A light green gas began to come out of the canister, slowly filling up the tunnel. The Outliers, including their enemies, began to choke. To make matters worse, city guards poured into the tunnel, making an already tight space even tighter. They wore their standard town guard outfits but were adorned with grey gas masks so they could move through the tear gas unimpeded. Billy clubs were gripped in their hands, their swords being sheathed on their sides indicating they weren’t using lethal force. They ran in, attacking all gang members they could see. One tackled Iron, taking him to the ground.

“Don’t resist you piece of shit!” the guard commanded, his voice muffled by the gas mask.

As Iron wrestled with the guard to get up, he could see streaks of light flying throughout the tunnel. The place had turned into a magic shooting range, with both sides shooting whatever spells they could at random, adding more chaos to the scene.

A fist slams into the guard’s face, breaking their mask and forcing the guard off of Iron, wheeling in pain as the tear gas flowed into his nostrils and eyes.

“Iron!” Young Blood yelled, standing over Iron.

The boy helped his leader get up, both their eyes watering and coughing from the gas. Iron tried to scan around, seeing that the others weren’t faring much better. They were in the same boat, trying to hold off both the police and the gang members at the same time. The only solace was that their enemies were fighting each other, giving a bit of breathing room. But literal breathing room was what was needed right now.

“Lunkhead! The wall! Ack!” Iron belted out.

Lunkhead threw off two guards and ran towards the wall of the tunnel, punching it with all his strength. The blow creates a hole, making debris fill the tunnel. Promptly the Outliers ran through the hole, finding themselves in the arena’s male restroom. They had their breathing room but weren’t safe yet.

“What now?!” Lunkhead asked as the Outliers fell to their knees, continuing to cough.

Iron wiped some saliva off his mouth, got on one knee, and scanned the place. Behind them, they could hear the gang members and police crash, the sound of yelling and spell casts being almost deafening. The restroom was dirty and decrepit, the urinals being covered in spiderwebs and rust. The stalls were falling apart, the doors almost falling off. The place, no, the entire arena, had a weak constitution. It was such a contrast to what Iron had seen as a kid.

“Iron, we gotta get moving! What’s next!?” Rockafella hollered, snapping Iron back to attention.

Iron stood up and ordered “We get out of here!”

“And head where!?”

“It doesn’t matter! Anywhere but here! There’s so much chaos we should be able to slip out of here. Lunkhead, wall!”

Lunkhead headed towards the wall of the restroom which led to the outside and with his metal arm punched it.

“Go! Go! Go!” Iron yelled.

They ran through the hole, and stumbled into another chaotic scene. It was a battlefield. All around them, different outfits were engaged in combat with the police. Some guards were beating down gang members, some gang members were beating down guards. Horse drawn police carriages surrounded the perimeter of the arena, with sirens and lights blaring on top of them. The carriages were portable cells and the Outliers could see some guards throwing gang members into them.

“We’ll lose them in the alleys, let’s go!” Rockafella exclaimed, pointing to an alleyway between two large brick buildings in the far distance.

The Outliers entered a sprint, dodging all sorts of attacks ranging from billy club swings to lightening bolts. Lunkhead became a bullet train, plowing through police and gangs alike. Feral moved like a beast, pushing his way past opponents like he was crawling his way through sand. West had gone invisible but he still knocked heads to make way for the others. Iron shot out gusts of wind from his arms, sending people flying away like flies. Axe was running on full alert, looking annoyed that his sleep had been distrubed. Finally were Rockafella and Young Blood in the back, the former making sure the latter didn’t get lost in the midst of the bedlam. They forced their way into the alleyway and began running for their lives, weaving their way through alley after alley so that they would escape the scene. They ran as fast as they could, tripping multiple times in the process. They kept going until the police sirens and all sounds of battle couldn’t be heard anymore. Panting heavily, Iron finally put his arm up, letting them know they could stop running. They were all severely fatigued, on the verge of collapse. Axe immediately slouched against the wall and fell asleep again. The others put their hands on their heads or sat down. They had no idea where they were, all they knew was that they were in an alleyway amongst the tall buildings of the 1st ward.

“Well that turned into a shitshow!” West cursed.

“I dunno, that was kinda fun.” Feral replied “It’s not everyday you get to have an all out brawl with the pigs. Got some good exercise right fellas?”

They looked at Feral askance, letting him know now was probably not a good time to joke.

“Iron what happened back there?” Rockafella inquired, cleaning his glasses from all the sweat.

“We got framed.” Iron answered. “I don’t know by whom, or why.”

“What do we do now?” Young Blood asked, looking up at Iron.

Iron looked down at him, trying his best to remain composed but the truth was, Iron didn’t know what to do, he was at a loss for words.

“I’ll...figure it out Young Blood. For now we-”

A loud caw echoed through the alleyway. They all looked up, seeing that crows were flying above them, heading in all directions. One landed on the building to their right and screeched “All you street punks listen up! Cyrus is dead! Cyrus is dead! His killers: The Outliers! LS-95 wants them dead! 400,000 gold for each Outlier you kill! 800,000 for Iron! Kill them tonight! Outliers, you can run, but you can’t hide! We’ll have your heads on dinner plates! You better-”

Iron made a finger gun and, summoning wind to his finger, shot a bullet made of wind at the bird. The bird exploded on impact, making its black feathers slowly float to the ground.

“Fucking birds. Prolly got them going throughout all of Vim making the same announcement” Lunkhead concluded.

“You telling me we’re gonna have every gang in Vim after us now?” West asked.

“Not just gangs. Assassins and police will be after us too. All of us have bounties and we’re a long way from home with no weapons. It’s not looking good” Rockafella responded.

“We’re dead. We’re so fucking dead.”

“We’re not dead” Iron cut in. “We’re getting through this all right? I don’t care who comes after us, we’re getting home and we’re proving we didn’t kill Cyrus.”

Iron stepped to the end of the alleyway, the other Outliers looking on.

“Let’s get moving, it’s gonna be a long night.”