"Don't take another step!"

Upon hearing the yell from behind, Fritz whirled around and instinctively took off in the opposite direction. Heavy footsteps followed him across the dull city landscape, occasionally falling flat into puddles of muck. Fritz snuck a look behind him as he rounded a corner only to catch a brief glimpse of two uniformed men.

BOLTS! It's officers.

Doubling his pace, Fritz continued to weave in and out of alleyways as the rain pounded his face. Racing to make it out of the alley a beam of light caught his chest just as he leapt to hide behind a wall.

"Over here! Suspect is on foot 103/54"

Not two seconds later a cruiser pulled up, the tires screeching told Fritz their location and let him know they had blocked his only escape. Fritz's eyes darted around looking for options as the men drew nearer. Finally, they locked onto a metal bar laying against a dumpster. Spinning around and grabbing the bar, Fritz swung it just in time to crack an officer's skull.

THRWACK

It was a clean hit. Guy should have upgraded his helmet… he thought.

"Drop the steel, Maggot!" commanded a voice from behind.

Turning around slowly, Fritz saw a gun trained on him. Knowing he was about to be surrounded, Fritz dropped the bar. It clattered on the cement with defeat as Fritz braced himself for a life far worse than he had known up to this point. He placed his hands on the back of his head.

Zzzap-Crack...Crack

Fritz could smell the burning. He quickly ran his hands up and down his chest searching for holes then looked up and around as the other officer slumped to the ground. Wasting no time, Fritz rushed to the body and pried the shiny pistol from lifeless hands; the handle was still warm and slick with sweat and rain.

"It's a little late to be out... don't you think?"

Startled, Fritz nearly dropped the gun he had just picked up, he turned to the voice just in time to see a man slink out of the shadows. He had a sophisticated look to him, trench coat and bowler hat. Fritz would have thought him to be a traveling salesman had he not noticed the laser slowly dimming in his hand.

"It's a little too wet to be using lasers..." Fritz replied curtly. The smell of burning human flesh was penetrating and overwhelming.

Chuckling, the man stepped closer. The well-groomed features of his face became illuminated, revealing short, refined hair and a pencil 'stache, "Come with me kid. I’ve been watching you. We have much to discuss."

Not seeing much of a choice, Fritz agreed and followed the man down through a manhole tucked away in the the alley. Darkness engulfed the men as they descended into the twisting sewer corridors.

The first thing Fritz noticed was the stench. It seemed to permeate the air in a sticky haze. He quickly brought his hands to his face to check if his mask was still intact.... horrifyingly, it was. Fritz didn't want to imagine what happened to unfortunate souls down here who didn't have the luxury of his air filter. Even with his upgrade, stenches still penetrated through if they were strong enough. Attempting to take his mind off the smell, Fritz turned to his new companion.

"So what's your name...er…Who do I have to thank?" Inquired Fritz somewhat sarcastically.

"Some know me by Ripper."

"Ripper...What kind of name is that!?"

"Listen kid, I got questions for you first," he burst back. Hearing his own sharpness, he hesitated, gave out a sigh and continued, "If you must know, I'm a bit of a... tinkerer...You can call me Cleiton."
Fritz's eyes grew wide as he thought up the implications. Who is this geezer? What's his aim? his thoughts were interrupted by faint whispers from behind them.

"Cleiton do you hear th-"

"Shh!”

Cleiton abruptly stopped to a dead halt and cocked an ear. Echoing footsteps could be heard growing louder. Cleiton pulled a metal object from his pocket.

Fritz nearly panicked until he saw it was an E.Y.E. Cleiton released the Electron Yield Enveloper and sent it toward the sound. In his other hand, he had a device showing people running in their direction. Cleiton reached back, causing the E.Y.E. to retract back to its case.

"We gotta go..... Come on, move boy!"

The two men raced through the tunnels, Cleiton leading Fritz turn by turn. A gleam of a flashlight peaked out from around the corner they had just rounded. The pair heard incoherent yelling from far away.

BANG Crack

The noise was deafening. Gunshots!

"They brought backup... we need to loop around. Stay close."

Cleiton continued to lead Fritz through the sewer hallways until the sounds of pursuit from behind were gone. Eventually they rounded a corner and the dim lighting grew brighter. Up ahead was a closed door, an old maintenance closet with ornate doors. It was a fancy area during a more vivacious era. Light could be seen through the cracks where door now separated from the wall.

"Minha casa, as they say..." The Cleiton muttered under his breath. "This is one of my hideouts. We’ll be safe here."

Cleiton yanked the door with sharp bursts of power. It scraped along the cement with each effort. He then beckoned Fritz to enter. Unable to come up with a valid reason not to, Fritz obliged uneasily; the man had saved his life after all.
Stepping into the room, Fritz's eyes surveyed the dark closet. They came across rusty blades, medical supplies, odds and ends of half-finished projects scattered in piles.

This is the den of a madman! A tinkerer?

Another sharp scrape interrupted his thoughts, Fritz was now trapped with this mystery man.

"Alrighty boy, find a seat if you can and let's get down to business."

"The name's Fritz. Hey, what exactly do you tinker on?"

"Fritz ehh, I had a grandfather named Fritz once..... He was a fine man, full of conviction, I haven't seen him for a while now though..." Cleiton's words trailed off as his mind slipped into recollections of the past, completely ignoring Fritz’s tinkerer question. Like the end of a senior moment, he clicked back into coherence, "So Fritz, what brings you to the district of the suits? Judging by the way you ran from those officers, I'd be willing to wager a guess it wasn't on official business. What are ya doing in my district?"

Though accusatory, something about Cleiton's nature was soothing. Fritz decided he trusted the man enough to be straight with him. He really didn’t have a choice at this point. "I didn’t know it was yours. I ain’t a thief or nothin’ like that. My parents were suits, they worked tech...they went missing a couple months back... I just want to know what happened to them." He struggled to say that last sentence biting back tears like a slicker.

"What a drip! Get yourself together, man!" Cleiton wasn't interested in seeing another man cry.

"What about you Ripper…or Clermont, you're well-dressed but you're no suit. What were you doing near government property....obviously you know anyone caught in this area without a permit gets locked away... why did you kill that metalhead in favor of my life?"

"It’s Cleiton…and quite frankly, my old grampa Fritz, funny enough, told me back in his day that an officer's job was to serve and protect the community... to defend the people against injustice. Nowadays officers are nothing more than vicious war dogs following barks from the chain of command. They don't care who they hurt as long as they retain their cushy government job. I've since taken it upon myself to try and uphold some form of law, to help the common folk down here in the slums. I knew you were innocent...I’ve got a sixth sense. Besides, I know this wasn’t your first time in these parts. As for what I was doing in the area? I need the junk these techies just throw away." Cleiton pulled what appeared to be robotic fingers out of his jacket. Wires hung down like they were stripped recently.

"I can't offer you answers son, but I've heard rumors of techies learning too much for their own good.... What I can offer you is sanctuary and honest work... well more honest than those vicious dogs we call......"

Knock....KNOCK, Knock... knock, knock

Spooked, Fritz jumped and fidgeted to reach for his newly acquired piece. It was obvious he had no previous combat training.

"Easy Fritz, that's only Randy the Junker. I arranged to meet him here. He's bringing me rare parts from out of district."

A wave of relief washed over Fritz like a tidal wave. He slumped back into comfort as the door scraped open once more.

"Cleiton! You gotta to fix that there door!" A tall man in his early 40's stumbled into the room with a distinct limp. His grey moustache danced like a catepillar on his lip as he spoke " I got tha parts ya need... EH! Who's ya new fren?"

"This here is Fritz. We were discussing the possibility of employment for him... he seems a little bit of a slicker."

"Hey! Don’t you call me that!" Fritz stood pointing the pistol at Cleiton.

"Boy put that away, you fool!” Cleiton pushed him back against the wall. “He seems to have hit a bit of a rough patch, so I'm looking out for him." Cleiton continued, undeterred.

Randy continued "Fritz! ya know…I got a son aroun' yer age named Jacob. He helps me aroun' the yard. I think you two would get along jus' fine......" Randy stopped abruptly and took a mean swig of octane from a flask. He continued "Oof, that burns...what was I saying?"

"What makes you think Jacob and I would get along?" replied Fritz in a respectful manner, still a little miffed from the slicker accusation.

"Tha's right. Jacob. He... hold on a min" Randy took another swig from the flask.

At this gesture Fritz cackled out a laugh. Something just seemed right about this guy…seemed very welcoming, “Mind if I have some? I’ve had a long couple of days.”

---

If you missed the origin story, find it here.

Written by: @demon402
Edited by: @bobthebuilder2
Artwork by: @ty2nicerva