Throne of Thieves

Chapter 1: Shadows of the Wasteland

In the heart of Metro Island, where shadows dance in the flickering light of burning trash fires, I tread carefully, mindful of the dangers lurking in every alleyway and darkened corner. For as long as I can remember, this lawless wasteland has been my prison, its tenacious grip holding me captive in a cycle of violence and despair. I am on my way once again to school, if you can call it that; there is just one teacher for a group of us students. It's early morning around 6:00 am, pretty dangerous to be walking Metro Island without an adult at this time. This walk to the old building with very little lighting was always like a warzone. You never know when someone was going to jump out at you.

Metro Island is a small Island that was founded off the coast of Japan by Americans after World War II. It was first used for military bases, but eventually, they decided to start shipping over criminals to live on the Island. They had intended for this Island to be like an experiment to see if the criminals could reshape themselves into a functioning society. In the early 2000s, America officially abandoned the territory; it would seem that experiment had ended in failure. No other country wanted to take over after that; eventually, Metro Island became a blight on the world. In the modern age of 2032, this place is a shell of its former self.

Comparing it to other 3rd world countries it is by far at the bottom of the list; this place is a hellhole floating in the Pacific Ocean. Nobody can leave due to every other country invoking a block on travel to this place; nobody can come in, and nobody can get out. This island a few 100 miles east from mainland Japan couldn't be any worse off. Gangs rule this place; there is no government, each gang rules a different territory. The Island is separated into ten zones; each of these zones has a different gang at the center. I live in Metro Zone 7; I have spent 18 years suffering through the harsh conditions here. Like a bird in a cage, I have been trapped here my entire life with only an older brother to look over me. 

Our parents were killed when I was very young; I never even saw their face, although my brother Kai says he can still remember them. He has been something of a father to me; he is seven years older so he provides for our small family. He has bought me all the books I have asked for when he can, but it's never enough; this stupid Island can only provide me so much. I need more... I want to learn all I can, and escape this hellhole once and for all. Just as I think that, a skinny man with a white t-shirt walks up to me. He has blonde hair like mine but smelled like rotten fish and appeared to be missing teeth. He puts a disgusting hand on my shoulder and begins to speak. The man in his rat-like voice squeaks, "Hey little bro whatcha doing walking in such a hurry. Why don't you stay and chat awhile with me little man. I got a job for you."

The man was likely affiliated with one of the upstart gangs around here; the main gang that runs zone 7 wouldn't be this upfront with its dealings. Instead of answering, I place my hand on his carotid sinus, "Let go." I have studied a lot of medical anatomy I am not skilled in combat, but I can at least defend myself. The man, looking surprised, backed away, "Woah woah I was just trying to help you out kid... I get the hint..." He backed away and left me alone. Scumbags like him are always trying to find their next victim to do their dirty work. I had no tolerance for bottom feeders plus I have to get to school. The teacher might not have much to teach me at my age now, but he has a lot of books. The more I absorb about the world the better my shot of getting out of here one day.

No more threats come up on my way over, and I reach the small building where classes are held; it was a run-down to all hell. I approached the small, dilapidated building, the fading daylight cast long shadows across its weather-beaten facade. Its once-vibrant paint had peeled away, leaving behind patches of bare, weathered wood. The roof sagged under the weight of years of neglect, and the windows were streaked with grime, obscuring any glimpse of the world outside. Despite its rundown appearance, the building exuded a certain charm, a testament to the resilience of those who continued to gather within its walls in pursuit of knowledge. As I pushed open the creaking door, the musty scent of old books and dust filled my nostrils, mingling with the faint echoes of voices from within.