3 Bad in The Badlands

My Mamá used to call me that, I don't know who this G is but I sure as hell don't remember anyone owing me a favor big enough to save me from death. Let alone set me up with 'immortality'.

"This still has to be a mind game..., but how did they know about my Mamás last words?!"

Looking at my hands they still look like mine, same scars, and the same lightly tanned skin, reaching up my hair still feels the same, shoulder length and half up in a knot, the rest loose in the back, still looks as dark as before. My face feels the same, except for this slightly strange feeling in my eyes and neck, and a 'clearness' in my throat that I can't quite put into words.

Running my hand over my face my eyes feel..., harder? Underneath my eyes strange metallic lines? My teeth leave a slightly cold feeling in my mouth, what seem to be longer sharper versions of my canines standing out as almost metallic when I run my tongue over them. My ears illicit an equally metallic feeling when touched. Running my hand across the side of my neck and toward the back of my head, two strange hole-like openings behind my ear, a metal feeling under the skin complimenting it. Finally running my hand toward my throat greets me with the strongest reaction, it's soft but not skin-like, unable to be pushed down on much, my entire front neck eliciting the same feeling, quickly pulling my shirt up out of the way, black lines adorn my body, with a similar feeling to my neck I can only assume it's in the same style, this must be some sort of cybernetics.

"Shit at least I kept my Ink."

Pulling my shirt back down I start reaching for a mirror somewhere whe"THE FUCKERS STILL ALIVE YOU GONK BASTARD" The roar of an engine interrupts my me moment.

"THOSE HANDS OF YOURS CIRC OR WHAT DESDEN!?" a truck roars over the hill to my left, a man standing in its bed holding a massive rifle that seems like it could kill a blue whale, "I ZEROED HIM I SAW HIS PINKY BRAINS PAINT THE CAR, I AINT CIRC YOU GANIC FUCK."

"…" Realizing that now is the moment to leave, I grab the wheel slam the gear, and accelerate as fast as possible, like 10 seconds into not being dead and I'm already getting shot again. "Home Sweet Home."

"CHASE CHASE CHASE, THAT WAY IS YUCCA! GOTTA CATCH HIM FIRST!"

"Fuck they're loud, tf is Yucca even?" seeing them still chasing me I can't help but wonder why something feels strangely familiar about the way they talk and the car that they're driving, the whole desert seems strangely familiar, like a childhood memory I forgot long ago *screeeee-claang!* a bullet flying through the rear glass and punching into the metallic dash on my right pulling me back out of my thoughts.

♪ The desire To destroy, To disrupt, To lose control, To rebuild and then, To tear it down again ♪

"AH SHIT I HIT THE RADIO ON PURPOSE TO GIVE MUSICAL ATMOSPHERE!"

"....I'm being pursued by fucking idiots with guns." rueing my own existence for a moment I notice a very important detail in the now blown open glovebox, a pistol, hopefully loaded.

"DESDEN I SWEAR ON EVERY DAMMED EDDIE I HAVE I'LL ZERO YOU MYSELF IF YOU DON'T LAND A FUCKING SHOT" - "FUC YOU TIELER THIS IS WHY MOTHER GAVE ME FATHER'S NAME AND NAMED YOU AFTER A SHITTY HOLO!"

I'm being murder-hoboed, I can't even get chased by fucking sane murderers at least. Reaching over, while trying not to bash my head into the roof due to a bump, I pull the pistol out of the glove box, it's slightly not a pistol, instead it's a revolver-type deal, the cylinder rather awkwardly placed underneath the barrel and ahead of the trigger guard, not completely dissimilar to a Mateba MTR-8, though bulkier and heavy as shit, *screeeee-claang!*

"STOP MISSING YOU LACE-ADDICTED GONK!"

Pulling the Revolver up out of the glove box and pointing it out of the now missing back glass, I wait for a moment of even terrain before quickly looking back behind me and aiming for the chest of the Idiot, who's name seems to be 'Desden', I pull the trigger, *bam!* the kick being a bit less than expected, but still hefty, the shot tearing through the left side of his sternum.

"DESDEN!? DESDEEEEEEEEN!"

Immediately lining up another shot toward the driver's windshield, I fire off another round as quickly as possible, the distraction of the shooters death coupled with shock of the impact on his windshield enough to make him swerve into a boulder in his way, the front left wheel getting a little bit of lift before being ripped off the chassis, the car itself aggressively flipping over on it's back, the now dead guy in the roof flying out like a, well like a dead body.

Pulling my foot off the accelerator and ramming the handbrake up I swerve to a stop and bolt out of the car after undoing my seatbelt, weird revolver in hand, I get up close to the idiot's car, pointing to the driver's side door with the gun in one hand, I pry open the door, "I know you're still breathing fuckface, I have questions and you have answers, fuck with me and I'll put a bullet through your balls before I put one through your head."

"F-Fuck man Relax, were all chooms here right? Hey we didn't kill you right? Can't be mad for something we didn't do!" the idiot speaks idiotically even now.

"Wrong answer." *crack!* slamming the butt of the gun across his face I hear a sharp noise, quiet enough to be fracture instead of a break, he should be able to speak still.

"Where are we? What year is it? Who are you, and why are you trying to kill me? What happened to the U.E.N?" firing off my questions before the shock leaves his system and make him useless, I push the barrel of my gun into the fresh wound on his face.

"FuCk! You pyscho! Shit! What kinda questi— AHH DON'T HIT ME AGAIN I'LL TALK I'LL TALK!" His eyes are heavily dilated, two minutes top before he's useless.

"So answer. Now."

"Shit we're in the Badlands, almost by Yucca, it's the last town before the Border. It's 2077 and my name is Tieler that one you killed was my brother Desden and we wanted to strip your implants is all! Also I got no fucking clue what the U.E.N is that a Snack?!"

"....2077? What fucking border? You making jokes now?!" Readying my self for another well-deserved smack on him I-

「Integration at 90% Proceeding with Memory Sync 」

"Wha-FUCK THAT HURTS, SHIT MY FUCKING SKULL FEELS LIKE A BEACHBALL"