I hesitated, taken aback by the stark shift in personality I’d just seen, on top of all of the other strangeness in the encounter. The First was clearly the leader of a group of pious and devoted individuals, and the initial impression I’d had of him was of such a man, but as soon as we were alone he’d immediately threatened my life and insulted Pott’s for not sending me to kill him. That was enough to throw me off balance.

“They exile me, and thirty others across the Cut, too cowardly to kill us themselves, and when they finally send someone else here, the message they have him give me isn’t a bullet, but instead a, ‘you’re welcome back any time. We want to re-establish our connection.’ That kind of shit is exactly why I left.” He snorted, shaking his head.

I took a breath and grounded myself. “Are you saying you’re the original? The deadman who broke away from Pott’s? Got exiled by Hades Johnson?”

He smiled, and it lit the room in a radioactive glow. “The very bastard.”

I had expected, as soon as I'd seen all the ways that Eden was similar to Pott’s, that they were descended ideologically from the exiles, but the idea that they were actually led by the man who’d caused the schism with Pott’s to begin with, was not something I’d considered. At the same time, it wasn’t too surprising. I could heal from bullet wounds, stabbings, and broken bones. I’d seen deadmen grow in height and size at will, immortality wasn’t that big of a leap from there.

The First raised an eyebrow. “I was expecting a gasp. Maybe a hand raised to clutch at your chest… You’re not that surprised are you?”

I shrugged. I’d seen enough in the wastes at this point that being surprised was expected, and I’d gotten pretty good at adjusting to it quickly.

He stood back up from his chair, seemingly incapable of staying still for long. He started walking around me, staring at me as he had when I’d first entered the room. “You crossed the Cut, huh? And you did it alone?”

I nodded.

His smirk grew into a wider smile. “You’re like me, aren’t you? A freak among freaks. What’ve you got? Enhanced reflexes? Healing? Energy projection? Thermal vision?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, not wanting to have all my cards on the table while I still wasn’t sure how things were going to shake out.

“Don’t pretend. These eyes don’t miss much,” he pointed to the glowing orbs, “You’re eyes twitched when I said healing.” He paused for a moment. “It’s listed for you, isn’t it? You can see the virus in the R.A.S. menu too.”

I stared at him, this was the first time another deadman had even mentioned having the virus listed with the system. I’d spoken to a lot of people in Pott’s about it before, but no one had ever known what I was talking about.

He smiled again, my expression clearly giving him the confirmation he needed. “Makes sense. It’s useful, huh? Certainly gives us a leg up on all the other chumps.”

I frowned. I wasn’t sure I’d ever so immediately detested another person, human or deadman, as much as I did The First on this impression.

He laughed, and walked back to his chair lounging across it with a leg sitting over one of the arms. “Tell you what, you’ve delivered your message, and now that I know you aren’t here with a bullet that has my name on it, I’ll let you go about your business.” He stretched out his arms. “As long as you don’t fuck with any of what I’ve got going on around here that is. If you do, I’ll have some of my people test the limits of whatever regenerative ability you have. They’ve gotten some practice with it, they’re pretty damned good at it.”

In spite of the distance he’d put between us, I didn’t relax. I didn’t trust his promise that I would be able to conduct my business unmolested. I turned around to walk toward the door, but kept my hand on my gun.

There was a tap on my shoulder and I turned around to see The First standing there, somehow crossing the room without me noticing.

“Wait a minute. This bunker, where is it?”

I thought for a moment, not letting myself jump or react to his swift and silent approach. “North and West of here.”

He laughed, a cackle that reminded me of the sparkling radioactive electricity. “That’s where it is? Oh man, you’re completely fucked. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one gets in your way.”

I looked at him questioningly, and activated my lie detector ability, unsure of whether or not he was just fucking with me. “There something for me to worry about?”

“Definitely, I’d say there’s a good fifty to seventy-five percent chance you’re going to die or worse.”

Tru*(!&@#(*& Lie$)(*#)(*Trut the system seemed completely unable to determine whether or not he was lying and when I looked at the physiological readings for him, they were all gibberish as well. Whatever was going on with him physically, was something the system wasn’t capable of understanding.

I looked at him, “Why?”

He laughed, walking slowly back to his chair for a third time, this time sitting in the same dignified position I’d seen him in when I’d first entered. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” His expression shifted then, his eyes becoming half-lidded and calm, and his wide mad smile changing to a small, and relaxed one. “Mary,” he said, just loud enough to carry past the doors.

They opened, and Mary was standing at the entrance to the room, her head bowed.

“This Deadman, he has chosen not to stay with us, but he will be escorted to the northwest border to Eden, and treated as a friend. Tonight he will be given food and a bed.”

She looked surprised. “He has refused to join his people?”

The First’s expression became convincingly sad. “We all have our path to walk, and we must respect his. He is of the people, not a member of the Herd to be kept here for his own protection, not an apostate, and so he may go in peace.”

She gave a bow. “Of course sir.” She turned to me, unable to hide the contempt in her expression. “Follow me.”

I did so, ready to leave The First, feeling myself untense slightly as the doors closed behind me. I’d met a number of leaders, and all had a very distinct way about them. The Khan was calm, controlled, and willing to get his hands dirty. Masters was smooth and convincing. The Honored Dead in Pott’s were fair, and reasonable, even if they each had their own small idiosyncrasies. The First… was manic, but controlled, self-absorbed, but keen, everything about him was contradictory, and that made me nervous. Not to mention that I had a feeling he, much like the Khan, was perfectly willing to do any necessary killing himself.

Mary led me through a series of halls, to a long row of rooms, she opened the door and gestured for me to enter. “We will have food sent to your room. Do not wander. We will have your escort meet you here in the morning.”

I didn’t acknowledge her, just walked into the room and threw down my pack, then turned, and shut the door in her face. I let out a breath, then started back on my usual routine of maintenance, inventory, and updating my maps and logs. I hadn’t used any ammo, or made any major changes since my last updates, but it was a habit and it helped to get my thoughts in order just as much as it got my gear in order, which was sorely needed after my meeting with the First. He was clearly guiding the Deadmen of Eden along a very different route than Pott’s was. Eden seemed to have fewer deadmen overall, but those that were here seemed much more varied and strange in a lot of ways. I assumed that The First was using the knowledge of the Virus granted by the system in order to guide them in that direction, to change them as he himself had been changed.

I looked at my own hands. They were worn, well-callused, and sinewy, but I saw no glow beneath my red skin. That didn’t mean it couldn’t happen though. Nico and Deux already criticized me for my lack of stealth, I couldn’t imagine that glowing would help that much. Unfortunately, I had no way of predicting how I would change next. I still had an obscured new mutation beneath the Virus part of my system, and my healing factor was changing as well. If this kept up, would I also wind up immortal? Giving off enough radiation to instantly kill any humans I encountered? Or would it be even worse, immortality and changing into something similar to the sickening man-wyrms I’d encountered in The Cut?

I let out a breath through my teeth. In the end, it didn’t matter. I was going to do what I felt needed doing, and if I wound up even more monstrous along the way that was just how it was going to be.

I finished up, re-packed my pack, and moved a pillow to the ground to avoid sleeping on the overly soft bed, keeping my weapons handy as I drifted off to sleep.