I stood at the entrance of the Rykrats' hideout, my eyes scanning the bustling underground market teeming with life. The hideout was a sprawling, hidden civilization of outcasts and criminals, thriving beneath the surface of Neotokyo. Neon lights flickered, illuminating makeshift stalls selling an array of wares. The smell of street food wafted through the air, a mix of savory and sweet, mingling with the scent of oil and machinery. People moved with purpose, some bartering for goods, others engaged in whispered conversations.

Braam clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grin wide. Welcome to the home of Rykrats, chommie, he said, his commanding voice cutting through the noise. Le'me show you around.

As we walked, Braam pointed out various sections of the hideout. Here, ya got the market, he said, gesturing to the stalls. Guns, tech, food, you name it. And that oke over there, he's a real wiz with the computers.

He continued, showing me the residential area, where makeshift homes fashioned from scavenged materials formed a tight-knit community. People gathered in small groups, sharing stories and laughter. Nearby, a training area was set up, where individuals sparred and honed their skills. The smell of food wafted from a communal kitchen, where everyone pitched in to cook meals that were far from luxurious.

I observed the different personalities among the inhabitants. A seasoned veteran of the underworld, clutching his pistol, still stuck in the traumas of his past. A young girl with glowing streaks in her hair, eager and restless, dancing to music, not even aware of the future that awaits her. She's got some moves, ey, real sakkie-sakkie style. The walls were adorned with graffiti, colorful and chaotic, a testament to the defiance of those who lived here. For better or for worse, it welcomed everybody. No matter who you were, you had a place here. A home.

I marveled at the complexity and scale of the hideout. How did I never know about this place? I asked, astonished.

Braam chuckled. That's zactly the point, chommie. Our hiding is what kept us alive.

Alive? What happened? My curiosity was piqued. This mystery was why I came to NeoTokyo in the first place.

Patience, my friend, Braam said with a knowing smile. Let me introduce you to someone important.

Braam led me to a corner where a woman was working on a complex device, her focus intense. She looked up as we approached, her piercing blue eyes scanning me with curiosity.