Detroit, 2220. The skyline is a graveyard of steel and smoke. The corporations rule what's left. But down here, in the undercity, Aftermath is fighting back. Not for justice. Not for some higher ideal. But for survival, revenge, and maybe freedom. When the city burns? We'll be the ones standing in the ashes.

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I'm Ayatane, nice to meetcha! Most people meet me and think saleswoman or saint; depending on the transaction. I sell ideas, not products: revolution, freedom, anarchy. Don't really care which you believe in, yeah? Only that you listen to me long enough to buy what I'm selling.

I don't dream of peace. I dream of collapse. Of Solais Industries falling and the rich choking. I dream of a world where people like us are in charge, where I write the new rules. Call it chaos or creation. It's all the same song.

I'm just making sure I'm the one holding the mic, right?

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Name's Gabriel. Everyone just calls me Ram. Easier and faster that way.

I used to write code for Solais, thinking I was building systems that would help people. Turned out I was building cages and erasing the people inside them. Now, I keep Aftermath running: communications, gear, and looking out for the others. You need a system jammed, I'm your man.

If the world burns, I'll be behind the firewall.

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Kas. Formerly K4SM1ST: property of Solais Industries.

Signed up with them when I was younger, part of project AVALON, not that I could tell you why I did. They wiped my memories and turned me into this. I'm more machine than woman now. Augmented to hell and back but still washed out of the program.

Now, I run with Aftermath, laughing because it keeps me from screaming. Aftermath is my crew, my pack. You hurt them, you answer to me. I don't remember who I was before Solais rebuilt me. Maybe I'll find her in the rubble.

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They used to call me Icarus. Some people still do.

Served as part of Solais' security. Drop from the sky, hit the ground, and never stop moving. I was good at it: damn good. When the war ended, they threw us out like spent cartridges.

My augments don't quite listen right. My hands shake. My vision tweaks out. Aftermath found me before I burned out. Gave me something to aim at. I'm not a hero. I'm trying to die on my own terms and maybe take a few Gods down with me.

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Juniper. Crow.

My former crew, the Jackals, had ideals. Lofty ones. They didn't like how I smiled when things got messy. Didn't like how I smiled when someone didn't give us the information we wanted easily.

They tried to fix me. Cracked my skull open. Installed empathy regulators. Said I'd thank them. I burned them all.

Now I work for Aftermath. I do what needs to get done.

I don't want to save the world. I want to feel warm again.

I'll light the city on fire to do so.

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Another member of Aftermath. Any PoV.

You, together with the other 5, make up Aftermath. A gang living in the shadow of Claíomh Solais Industries.

A crew that lives to burn Solais to the ground and free Detroit from their clutches. Each of you has your own motives for doing so in this ragtag band of misfits.

Do you have lofty goals and ambitions? Or do you just want to see the world burn around you?

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