06 • high roller* •

Third District, Sector 4
Abandoned Police Academy
26 Days Until Zero Hour

They drove in silence to the new location. Urs had shoved them all into a black van, taken the wheel himself, and set off as if they were on a cheerful family road trip—as if he hadn’t ordered them to aim loaded guns at unarmed people barely half an hour ago.

He never once mentioned what would happen to the ones who had failed the test. As for the winners, he simply told them to gather their belongings from the room they’d woken up in and follow him. The ones who didn’t make it? Dismissed without a second thought. Urs didn’t care what happened to them. Not his job. His mission was to deliver new recruits, not babysit the rejects.

The entire ride, he hummed cheerfully along to whatever was playing on the radio. He barely paid attention to the road—he knew it by heart. His real focus was on stealing glances at the new additions through the rearview mirror.

They were a colorful bunch. He’d expected the two muscle-heads to do best—and he was half right. The mixed-race guy came in first, followed by the unassuming white-haired nerd, and third was fire-eyed brawler. Urs hadn’t expected much from the freckled runt, who’d apparently barely made it. But the one he’d been rooting for most was Kelly.

He was shocked when he saw her file among the handful of applicants. It had been what, two years since they’d last seen each other? Their split had been abrupt and without goodbyes. Now, he had the perfect chance to catch up—and maybe… settle a few old scores.

Meanwhile, the recruits were still trying to make sense of what the hell had just happened. Too many conflicting emotions buzzed inside them to even begin to name. But one thing they all felt—they’d been forced to improvise far too soon. Callean had thrown them into the deep end like seasoned agents of the Bureau, expecting them to swim through chaos like pros.

Still, they had to look at the bright side: they’d passed. They’d made it into Busterrix’s crew. Which meant—for now—they’d escaped a long prison sentence. Assuming no one died first.

The van jolted to a stop. Urs turned to them with a wide grin.

“All right, ladies and gents, we’ve arrived!” he announced brightly, hopping out of the van. A moment later he opened the side doors like a proper chauffeur.

Night had already fallen. They stepped onto a gravel path and were met with the sight of… an old police academy.

“Oh, the irony,” Jax muttered, eyeing the building—abandoned but surprisingly well-kept.

Urs chuckled, following their stares.

“We took this place in after the academy shut down three years ago—lack of interest in law enforcement training. Can’t say I’m shocked. Crappy job. It’s way more fun being on the other side of the law.”

He winked and led the way toward the entrance. The others followed in silence, like a school field trip.

“We’re ho~ome!” Urs sang out as they entered the lobby, where a long-abandoned front desk sat next to a functioning security system. Three monitors and a laptop sat lit up on a wide counter—clearly someone was watching the place, even if no one was posted there now.

Urs frowned, clearly unimpressed with the empty security station. Someone hadn’t done their job. His voice echoed through the empty space—and then came the sound of heels clicking on tile.

A woman appeared at the top of the stairs, looking like a walking sketchbook—black crop top, long muscular legs covered in tattoos, green-dyed hair chopped at her shoulders, and a sharp, don’t-mess-with-me face.

“No need to yell, I can hear you from the attic,” she called out, chewing gum like she meant it.

“Throwing it back at you—why is no one on the monitors?” Urs replied, folding his hands like an annoyed schoolteacher.

“Oh, please. I’d rather watch documentary movies in bed,” she scoffed, peeking over his shoulder. In heels, she was about his height. She glanced at the new recruits. “Took you long enough.”

“I was giving them the grand tour of our scenic empty streets and gorgeous open fields. So, anyway! This, everyone, is Toxi—my third in command.”

Toxi snorted loudly, planting her hands on her hips.

“You mean second.”

“Maybe you could at least say hello?” he said, mock-scolding, knowing full well how prickly she got about hierarchy. He winked, silently telling her to play nice.

“Yo,” she said flatly, giving the group a once-over without wasting energy on emotion.

If they were actual police academy recruits, she’d be the grizzled sergeant. Ironically, it kind of fit.

Toxi, or rather Felicia “Toxita” Terrens—27 years old, with a total combined sentence of over ten years.
Multiple convictions, starting with petty hooliganism, ending with blowing up police stations. She’d known Ace since they were kids and owed her spot on the crew to him—though, with fists like hers, she probably could’ve punched her own way in.

“Ace had something to take care of in the next city,” she announced as they walked down a long corridor. Urs fell into step beside her, lips puckered in mock disappointment.

“Oh… too bad. I was hoping to introduce the new kids to our shark.”

“Don’t piss yourself. There’ll be time. We’re all gonna be seeing a lot of each other,” she added, glancing back at the recruits with a smile that hovered between friendly and venomous. They stopped at a set of double doors. “For now, make yourselves at home or whatever. Urs is your nanny. So if you’ve got complaints, take ’em to him—I don’t give a shit. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast. I sleep in the last room on the ground floor. Gun under the pillow. Don’t knock.”

With that, she spun on her heel and strutted away, hips swaying.

“And with that warm welcome, Toxi invites you to dinner!” Urs said cheerfully, opening the doors to the kitchen-dining area and ushering them inside. “I’m sure you’re wiped, so eat up. After that, I’ll show you your rooms. Deal?”

They nodded silently and took their seats at a long table, which was loaded with pizzas and various fast food items—nothing that could be mistaken for a home-cooked meal courtesy of Toxi or Urs (which, frankly, was probably a blessing).