I'm getting real tired of these blows to the head.

My hands were bound and I was too tired to even fight back. I remember flashes of me being on the back of a horse. I fully gained consensus once somebody threw water on my face. I coughed violently, slightly drinking the water due to how thirsty I truly was. I looked around. I was in a small room of cracked concrete. I saw a table and three people. The one in the middle looked very important. He had long black dreadlocks and donned a worn-out jean jacket. It had the massive NRF shield logo, patches of the Jamaican flag, and flags of bygone mercenary groups back during the Intro Wars. He turned, showing off his dark skin, scared face, and brown eyes. He had this serious look to him. "Dopeman." He says to me. he had a Jamaican accent.

I would say something, but my throat was so dry all I could do was cough.

The Jamaican looks to one of the guards. "Bring di mon sum wata now."

He nods and makes me drink half of a glass of water.

"You might be wondering why ya still yer life right now." He says. I shrug in response. "I've heard from the road you're just some Raggamuffin with a bounty on his head. You don't even believe what fightin' for, do ya Dopeman?" He must've spoken in Jamaican Patois, but tried to speak proper English so I can understand.

"I...I Just wanna be a courier again."

"Then join me Dopeman. You n' me."

I shake my head. "I don't even know who you people are."

"The NRF wants the freedom we longed for even before we mashed up the world. Your government ruined my life. I was in Kingston with my lady and two pickney dem. My life was flawless until Hurricane Genesis. My wife was dead. Me n' the children had nowhere to go. Then some white people with their charity come round. They offered me n' the kids a chance to come to Merika. This place...bad like the rest of the world. They always say pull yuhself up by unnu bootstraps, but there was nothing to hold on to. Everywhere I go, I would be denied, told to go home. Soon I had no home to come round to. My kids were tek aweh. I was alone, had nobody thanks to yer systems and culcha." He poked my chest. He spoke with bitterness, not getting over these things at all. "I was ova in Cali when the Big Boom happened. That was the greatest day to happen to Merika. It was a chance to staat ova. I walked out of the bunker to fighting. People dyin'. I made these people unite under one flag, Dopeman. The flag of freedom." I then smiled, his arms outstretched. "Di people called me Godhand. I was a prophet of freedom. Then I see Miller Corps come round, trying to bring the same system that ruined my life. I have to get rid of them, ya know?"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry, but anarchy will only lead to chaos sooner or later."

"You're blind. You'll see once we wipe off di Miller Corps." Godhand turns to the guards. "Put him inna prison. Im gwine tan deh fah while." They nod and pick up my weakened body, throwing me in a cell. We're in some old-world prison, just barely holding on. I cough, losing strength more and more. I then fall into sleep, seeing the glimpse of my cellmate.

And here I thought I escaped jail time.