A day later,
In the Backdrop biome, its air heavy with the stench of decay and desperation.
Syn and his pirate band slipped through its shadowed alleys, their manufacturing worker disguises—grease-stained jumpsuits, bandanas, and fake ID tags—making them blend with the biome's downtrodden.
Drones hummed overhead, their cameras scanning everywhere for unusual movements, but the pirates moved like ghosts, ducking into a derelict building, its windows boarded, its door marked with a faded glyph to ward off snitches.
The Backdrop's people hated the pirates, seeing them as the Kingdom's enemies, blind to their fight for freedom, assuming they were just troublemakers who'd bring the King's wrath.
Syn's crew had to hide, even from those they fought for, acting like the biome's grumpy, broken souls by day, planning their next strike by night.
