I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Xylar's eyes glittered with malice as he fixed his gaze on the former gang member. "Come now, Rodney," he said, emphasizing the name with mock sweetness. "Surely you haven't forgotten your old friends so quickly?"

Rattlesnake – or Rodney, as he was once known – bristled at the use of his given name.

His knuckles whitened around the hilt of his blade. "I told you, I don't know anything," he growled, eyes darting between Xylar and the shadows where he knew others must be lurking.

Xylar took a step forward, his movement casual yet somehow menacing. "Oh, I think you do," he purred. "And for your sake – and little Lily's – I hope you're feeling talkative."

The color drained from Rodney's face at the mention of his daughter's name. 'How does he know about her?' he thought, panic rising in his chest. He struggled to keep his voice steady as he replied, "Leave my family out of this. They've got nothing to do with any of it."

"Ah, but they have everything to do with it," Xylar countered, his tone conversational as if discussing the weather. "You see, Rattlesnake, family is such a... fragile thing. One moment they're there, the next..." He snapped his fingers, the sound sharp in the night air. "Gone."

Rodney's mind raced, weighing his options. He knew all too well what Xylar was capable of – had been party to such acts himself in the past. The thought of those cold eyes turning towards his wife, his little girl... it was unbearable.

"I... I don't know exactly," Rodney began, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I overheard something. Officer Steele was talking about the Wasteland the other day. It didn't make sense at the time, but..."

Thunder, who had been silently observing the exchange, felt his blood run cold at the mention of the Wasteland. 'No,' he thought, 'it can't be.' The Wasteland was where society sent its worst – a place of no return, spoken of in hushed whispers by even the most hardened criminals.

Xylar's eyes narrowed, searching Rodney's face for any sign of deception. "The Wasteland, you say?" he mused. "Interesting. And if I find out you're lying to me, Rattlesnake..." He left the threat unspoken, but its weight hung heavy in the air.

Rodney shook his head vigorously, desperation evident in every movement. "I swear it's true," he pleaded. "On my daughter's life, I swear it."

A slow, cruel smile spread across Xylar's face. "Well then," he said, "it seems we have a new destination. The Wasteland... how exciting."

Thunder couldn't contain his shock any longer. "Boss," he ventured, his voice tight with concern, "the Wasteland? That's... that's insane. Nobody goes there willingly. And nobody comes back."

Xylar turned to Thunder, his eyes gleaming with a manic light. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong," he said. "With a bounty this size, there are no boundaries we can't cross. The Wasteland is just another obstacle to overcome."

Thunder's mind reeled, struggling to process Xylar's words. 'This is madness,' he thought. 'Complete and utter madness.' But aloud, he only asked, "How do you plan on getting us in? It's not exactly a place you can just walk into."

Xylar's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Oh, Thunder," he said, shaking his head as if explaining something to a child. "We're already wanted criminals. All it takes is for us to get arrested, and they'll send us there themselves."

Thunder felt a chill run down his spine at Xylar's casual tone. He swallowed hard, trying to find a flaw in the plan. "But boss," he argued, "our crimes... they're not big enough for the Wasteland. We've only attempted murder, not actually killed anyone."

For a moment, Xylar was silent, considering Thunder's words.

Then, slowly, a terrible grin spread across his face. "You're right," he said softly. "We'll need to make a bigger splash. Something to really get their attention."

As the implications of Xylar's words sank in, Rodney's eyes widened in horror. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a sound, Xylar gestured sharply towards Thunder.

"Kill him," Xylar commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.

Thunder hesitated for a split second, his conscience screaming at him to refuse.

But years of following Xylar's orders, of fearing the consequences of disobedience, overrode his better judgment. With a fluid motion, his blade materialised in his grasp and plunged it into Rodney's chest.

Rodney's eyes bulged in shock and pain. He tried to speak, but only a wet gurgle escaped his lips as he crumpled to the ground. Thunder stood over him, watching the life drain from his former comrade's eyes, feeling a part of his own soul wither and die.

Xylar observed the scene with cold satisfaction. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small card, which he tossed onto Rodney's still form. "Let them know we're here," he said.

"Let the hunt begin."

As they turned to leave, Thunder found his voice again. "Boss," he said hesitantly, "what if... what if our message isn't received well? What if they don't take the bait?"

Xylar's eyes gleamed with a terrible light. "Then we keep killing," he said simply. "We'll paint this city red until they have no choice but to notice us."

Thunder felt sick at the casual way Xylar spoke of murder, but he nodded silently. As they made their way back through the darkened streets, a question nagged at him, demanding to be asked despite his fear of the answer.

"And once we're in the Wasteland," he ventured, "how do we plan to escape? No one's ever made it out before."

Xylar's laugh was low and confident. "No one's escaped yet because they had nothing to live for in the outside world," he explained. "But with a bounty this size? We'll have every reason to fight our way out. And I have an old friend in there who owes me a favor. Raxus will help us.

He's been down there for years, knows every inch of the place."

Thunder's mind whirled with the implications of Xylar's words. The Wasteland, Raxus, the promise of unimaginable wealth – it all seemed like a fever dream, too outlandish to be real. And yet, here they were, embarking on this insane venture.

As they reached the warehouse where the rest of the gang waited, Thunder couldn't shake the feeling that they were hurtling towards something far beyond their control. The bounty that had seemed like such a golden opportunity now felt like a noose tightening around their necks.

But as Xylar pushed open the warehouse door, his face alight with anticipation, Thunder knew there was no turning back. They were committed now, for better or worse. All he could do was hope that somehow, against all odds, they'd come out the other side alive.

As they entered the warehouse, Xylar addressed the gang, his voice brimming with anticipation. ".....So we wait for the Enforcers," he declared. "When they come, put up a fight – but not too much. We can't make it look too easy."

A ripple of shock ran through the crowd. Some exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared voice their doubts. The fear of Xylar's wrath outweighed their misgivings about this suicidal plan.

Thunder watched as the men prepared for the inevitable confrontation, his stomach churning with dread.

The hunt for Zafron and Matilda was about to take them into the heart of the Wasteland – a place from which no one had ever returned.