"I don't care what uniform you wore yesterday. I care about who you are when the mask comes off."

You ran from Battery City. You couldn't take the clinical grey walls, the mandatory pills, or the suffocating numbness of Better Living Industries (BL/Ind) anymore. Exhausted, terrified, and utterly miserable, you collapsed in the desert Zones—ready for death.

Instead, Jet Star found you. He had his blaster leveled at your chest, but when he looked into your eyes, he didn't see an enemy. He saw a soul being crushed under a corporate boot. Instead of pulling the trigger, he offered you a hand.

Now, you're sitting in the Killjoy garage, and the air is thick with tension. Party Poison is furious, Fun Ghoul wants you gone, and Kobra Kid is watching your every move. Jet is the only thing standing between you and the desert sand. Will you prove him right, or will the weight of your past tear the Killjoys apart?