Back at the hotel, Krieg and co. were waiting for an update from Salvador, when a purple portal opened suddenly. Out came Johnny Gat, flanked by Oleg and Shaundi. "Yo, Krieg! Ready to meet the rest of the gang?" Gat was met with the tip of Vaggie's spear. "How did YOU get in here!?" she demanded. "Relax, lady, we got our own means of inter-realm travel. Say, why don't ya bring some'a your pals, introduce them to us while we're at it?" Shaundi pulled Gat aside. "Are you gonna tell him?" She angrily whispered to him."You think I'm just gonna lay that on him outta the gate!? 'Oh hey pal welcome to the Saints, by the way, you're our long-lost leader who is currently one of the most wanted people in the United-goddamn-States!" Gat and Shaundi turned back to the group. "Don't worry if you didn't hear any'a that, ain't important. Name's Gat by the way, Johnny Gat. These here are Shaundi and Oleg." "Well, hello,Mr. Gat. I'm Charlie, daughter of Lucifer and owner of the Happy Hotel." "Heh, for the daughter of the Devil himself, you are quite the sweetheart." complimented Oleg.

Angel Dust came walking downstairs. "Hey, has anyone seen my box of dil- what the?" "No! Angel, this does not concern you, go back upstairs!" yelled Vaggie as she tried to usher him back up. "Oh I'm definitely looking further into this!" said Angel as he managed to slip past Vaggie and to Gat and the Saints. "Nice ta' meet ya. Call me Angel Dust." he said as he held out 3 of his hands for Gat to shake. "No fuckin' way! THE Anthony D'Ambrosi!?" exclaimed Johnny as he shook Angel's hands. "Wait, how do ya know my real name!?" "You're one of history's most famous gangsters on Earth! Your legacy was part of what inspired the 3rd Street Saints!" "Heh, guess my reputation precedes me." said Angel with a smirk. "Say, Krieg, why don't ya bring some'a these guys with ya on the penthouse tour? I think they'd like the other Saints."

As Krieg, Charlie, Angel, Moxxie, and Millie prepared to follow the 3 Saints through their portal to the penthouse, they were stopped by Vaggie. "Charlie, I can not in good interest allow you to go into what seems to just be a crime-infested war zone!" Krieg (read: attempted to) reassured Vaggie. "THE SAWBLADE WILL BURN THE FLEUR DE LIS TO CINDERS IF THEY WASH THE HAPPY CLOWN'S MAKEUP OFF!!" "Fine, but I SWEAR TO GOD IF SHE COMES BACK IN AN ARM-SLING SO HELP ME I WILL PUT THIS SPEAR UP GAT'S-!!!" The group decided to quickly make their way through the portal before Vaggie burst an artery.

SAINTS HQ, STEELPORT, USA:

"Welcome, ladies n' germs, to Casa De Saints, as we like to call it." Johnny then motioned the group towards a man in a leopard-pattern lined fedora and coat, holding a golden microphone with a large "Z" on it. "This here is Zimos, one of Steelport's oldest and most professional pimps. Zimos, meet our new associates." "Why, salutations and greetings." said the old pimp, whose voice was auto-tuned, strangely enough. "If you lookin' for some hos, I got some catalogs for your perusal." Johnny then continued towards a redhead wearing an FBI hoodie, typing away on a laptop. "This is Kinzie Kenzington, our resident tech support and all-knowing hacker." "If you touch my stuff without asking, I'll scramble a squadron of F-69 VTOLs to your house." said Kinzie without even looking from the screen. "Well she seems pleasant." remarked Moxxie, sarcastically. "And here is our resident tactician and head of marketing and PR, Pierce Washington. Pierce was a young black man wearing a dapper platinum-white suit with a cabbie hat. "What's good? Awesome to meet y'all." said Pierce as he shook the groups' hands. "Holy shit, is that Anthony D'Ambrosi!?" he exclaimed when he saw Angel Dust. "Exactly what I said! Awesome having a legend amongst us, isn't it?" "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm famous. You guys got any dust 'round here?" "Oh baby, we got a stockpile of the finest shit you'll ever snort." said Zimos.

As Angel and the wise old pimp walked off to the narcotics stockpile, Johnny got a call. "Gat here. Oh, hey Angel (pronunciation: ahn-hel), yeah I'll bring 'em over." "Who was that?" asked Charlie. "That was Angel De La Muerte, legendary pro wrestler and another Saint. Says he wants to meet you guys and introduce his protégé."

ONE LONG, PAULA ABDUL SING-ALONG FILLED DRIVE LATER: "So, you're the new guys Gat told me about, huh?" said a man wearing a purple (expect to be seeing that color a lot, going forward.) luchador mask, with gold and black accents. "Nice meetin' ya, Mr. La Muerte!" said Millie, cheerily. "Say, Angel, where's this protégé you said you wanted to introduce to the gang?" asked Pierce. "In the ring." said Angel as he motioned towards the center of the stadium, where a pair of wrestlers were going at it in the square circle. One wrestler, wearing a black luchador mask with purple and white accents, raised his opponent over his head, and dropped him on his knee, spine-first. He then pinned him for the 3-count. DING-DING-DING! "Ladies and gentlemen! Your winner: Kenny 'The Spine Snapper' Karlson!" Angel led the group down to ringside, where Kenny sat, cooling down after an intense night of physical violence. "Oh, hey coach! How'd I do tonight?" "You did great, kid. Now, get up, got some people I want you to meet."

Kenny was quite muscular, as most pro wrestlers are. He also had an insane amount of tattoos on his arms and torso, the most prominent of which being one on his midsection, reading: "3RD STREET SAINTS". But the strangest part about him was his eyes. His pure-white, completely-lacking-any-irises-or-color eyes. As Charlie walked up to shake his hand, she repeatedly thought to herself: "Don't mention the eyes, don't mention the eyes..." "I'm judging from that look on your face that my eyes freak you out." "No! No, not at all, I was just-" "Eh, don't worry, ma'am, I get that a lot." said Kenny as he shook Charlie's hand.

BACK AT SAINTS HQ:

"Y'know, Krieg, you've been awfully silent during this whole thing." remarked Millie. While he and the others were being introduced to the 3rd Street Saints, Krieg was being bombarded with even more memories of past experiences with the Saints. Jumping from an exploding yacht, fighting yellow-clad samurai on motorcycles. Though one brief recollection stood out to Krieg. Stuffing a woman into the trunk of a car that was set to be crushed in a monster truck rally.

Before the implications could fully register, Moxxie stepped in. "I just got a call from Blitzo, says we're going to be accompanying Stolas to the Harvest Moon Festival." "What's the Harvest Moon Festival?" asked Charlie. "Dad's never let me outside the Pride Ring." "Oh, it's amazing, Charlie! It's this big ol' celebration of the fall harvest with a carnival, games, food n' wrasslin'!" exclaimed Millie. "You oughta come! I bet you could do some advertising' for your hotel there!" "Hold up, you say something about a harvest festival?" asked Pierce as he walked into the room. "I've been working on some Saints merch that'd be PERFECT for that! Gimme a sec." Pierce ran downstairs. "Wait, you guys are an organized criminal organization, but you have merchandise?" Moxxie asked Johnny, bewildered. "Yeah, turns out taking down a rival gang that owned a multimillion dollar media company and usurping their position is an easy way to become a celebrity." said Johnny.

As if to prove his point, Shaundi proceeded to showcase a large pile of 3rd Street Saints merch. "Look at this, Saints Row t-shirts, bobbleheads, action figures, Funko POP!s. Dog, we even got a damn energy drink!" Shaundi then held up a purple drink can labeled: "SAINTS FLOW ENERGY: THERE'S A SAINT IN ALL OF US." Charlie began biting her knuckle worriedly. "Well, no wonder Hell's so overpopulated, if literal criminals are able to become idols in peoples' eyes. Still, they seem nice enough." she thought to herself.

Just then, Pierce came back upstairs. "YEEEEE-HAW! Ride 'em, homie!" "Pierce, what the actual fuck are you wearing?" asked Gat, with a look of concern on his face. "It's the merch I've been working on!" replied Pierce. He was wearing a purple cowboy hat with a silver fleur de lis on the stampede strap (or the hat band, for those unfamiliar with western slang.), a pair of black chaps with purple accents, white cowboy boots with purple fleur de lises on the sides, all capped off with a golden fleur de lis belt buckle. "I figured these'd sell like crazy at that Harvest Moon Festival that Millie's talking about." "Huh, well in that case, expect to see us there as well." said Gat to the group.

"Well, it was awesome meeting you and your friends, Mr. Gat, but I think we should be going, Vaggie's been texting me nonstop. Wait, where's Angel?" As if on cue, Zimos walked in, with a very stoned Angel Dust in tow. "Damn it, Angel, baby. I told you to go easy on the Loa Dust." scolded the auto-tuned pimp. Loa Dust must've been some STRONG stuff, as the only thing Angel was able to manage in response was various grunts of ecstasy. Krieg began carrying Angel, who was unable to walk from just how damn high he was. "I apologize, thought he'd be bit more responsible with the drugs." said Zimos. "See you guys at that festival!" said Millie as they walked back through the Saints' portal to the hotel.

As the group walked into the lobby, Charlie was suddenly tackled by Vaggie. "HUN! Are you alright!? Did they hurt you!?" "I'm fine, Vaggie! No need to worry!" "Sorry, hun, just wanted to make sure those Saints guys didn't do anything to you." Suddenly, an exhausted Salvador came through the door. "Sal! Where have you been!?" shouted Axton."Huff, huff...guys... I think-huff-I think I found how Blitzo has access to the mortal realm, he's sleeping with-" before he could finish, Sal passed out from exhaustion. "Jeez, did he run the whole way here from that castle he mentioned?" remarked Maya as she and Axton lifted Sal onto the couch.

INSIDE KRIEG'S MIND:

"It's strange. It's like I knew the Saints at some point, but what happened? Who was I back then? Why was I fighting motorcycle samurai and gimps? You know something is wrong when competing on a game show about murdering furries and mascots hosted by a giant, pink cat-man isn't the weirdest thing I've see from all these memories. But that's not all. Why did that giant snake from the beach call me 'Odin's Chosen'? Why am I such a threat to Loki's plans for Ragnarök? I need to know more. It seems the more I interact with the Saints, the more I can remember from before I was a 8-foot abomination of muscles and murderous rage."