Note: I don't normally include swear words in my works. However, for this story, some light swearing will crop up in keeping with the tone of the games. Also, in this story, Seem is a man. It just makes sense for him to be a man because monks are men. Anyway, enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

"Snacks? Check. Water? Check. Extra ammo for the morph gun? Double check." Sixteen-year-old Kiya zipped her battered knapsack closed with a flourish, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. She could barely contain her excitement; it bubbled up inside her ready to blow.

A worn map lay spread across Kiya's desk, its edges frayed and soft beneath her fingertips. She traced the route through the Wasteland, the faded ink depicting a treacherous path through canyons, dunes, and ancient ruins. A shiver ran down her spine. Just the name "Wasteland" conjured up images of bloodthirsty marauders and monstrous creatures with gnashing teeth. She'd heard enough stories from grizzled Wasteland traders to make her stomach churn. But fear wasn't going to stop her. This was her first real adventure outside Haven City, a chance to prove herself, to escape the stifling routine of her life, and maybe, just maybe, discover something amazing along the way. Besides, she had her trusty morph gun, a knapsack full of supplies, and a burning determination that could rival the hottest desert sun.

Kiya's long blonde hair bounced up and down as the gears in her head turned and turned. She meticulously checked each item in her knapsack again. Snacks? Enough to keep a small army happy. Water? Enough to last a week, at least. Extra ammo for the morph gun? Definitely enough to blast away any Wasteland metalheads and sand centipedes back to the Precursor Stone Age. Everything seemed to be in order for the weekend trip. Yet, a nagging feeling persisted, a sense of something overlooked, like a missing puzzle piece in her grand adventure plan.

"I know there's something I'm forgetting," Kiya muttered, tapping a finger against her temple. "It's right there, on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't..."

"Forget something, blondie?"

Kiya's head snapped up, her blue eyes widening as she spotted her friend Tish leaning against the doorframe. Tish, with her jet-black hair, dark eyeliner, and black clothes covered in repurposed Krimzon Guard armor, held up a bright blue bottle.

"What's that?" Kiya asked, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"Like you don't know," Tish chuckled, her voice a low, melodic drawl. "It's sunscreen. You know, that stuff they invented so you don't come back from the Wasteland looking like a roasted kanga rat?"

Kiya's face turned a shade of crimson that would put even the fiercest desert sunset to shame. "Oh..." she mumbled, her gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "Right. Sunscreen. Totally had that covered. Just, uh, making sure you were paying attention."

Tish stepped forward, chuckling softly, and gently placed the sunscreen in Kiya's knapsack. Kiya felt the cool plastic of the bottle against her fingers as she zipped it closed, the zzzt of the zipper echoing in the quiet room.

"Alright, now we've got everything we'll need for this weekend," Tish declared, her eyes twinkling behind her square glasses. A gentle breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the scent of dust and distant exhaust fumes. "How do ya' feel?"

Kiya grinned, a surge of excitement bubbling inside her like a volcano about to erupt. "I feel fantastic!" she said, her voice brimming with an energy that could power Haven City for a week. "I'm ready to hit the road and have some fun!" She pumped a fist in the air, flashing her pearly white teeth.

"Amen, sister," Tish agreed, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder with a dramatic flourish. "This week has been a total drag. Time for some serious R & R."

Kiya nodded, her grin widening into a mischievous smirk. She playfully nudged Tish's arm, sending a ripple through her friend's black, flowing sleeve. "You sure you wanna go trekking through the Wasteland all dressed in black like that?" she chortled. "I mean, black's not exactly the best color to wear in desert heat, ya'know. You'd be fried to a crisp before we even get halfway there!"

Tish narrowed her eyes playfully, a mock glare directed at Kiya. "Lady, we're talking about a landscape crawling with gargantuan metalheads and trigger-happy marauders," she drawled, pushing her square glasses up her nose. "What color I'm wearing is the least of our worries. Besides," she added with a wink, "a little black never hurt anyone. Might even scare off a few bandits."

Kiya threw her hands up in mock surrender but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, alright, you win. Just try not to melt into a puddle of darkness before we reach Pretoria, okay?"

Tish rolled her eyes and shook her head, a strand of jet-black hair falling down her shoulder. Kiya's jabs at her fashion sense never got old. Had anyone else dared to critique her style, they would be dust.

A blur of pink and a rush of sweet floral perfume filled the room. Lula, a whirlwind of red hair and boundless energy, practically vibrated with excitement as she bounced through the door, her long red braids flying behind her like fiery banners.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Lula chirped, her voice a high-pitched symphony of enthusiasm. "Can you believe that we're actually going to the festival in Pretoria? I've been dreaming about this since I was a little kid!" She clapped her hands together, her bracelets jingling like a chorus of excited crickets.

"Oh, absolutely!" Tish agreed, a rare smile gracing her lips. "The annual Precursor festival has been on my bucket list for ages. The music, the games, the food... it's legendary! Definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

Kiya, perched on the edge of her bed, couldn't help but grin. "It's kinda crazy that I'm only going now," she admitted, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "I mean, everyone talks about it like it's the most amazing thing ever."

"Well, better late than never," Tish said, offering a reassuring smile. "And besides," she added with a wink, "who knows what kind of trouble we'll get into along the way?"

Lula's eyes widened. "Ooh, trouble? Like what kind of trouble? Do you think we'll encounter any metalheads? Or maybe even some marauders?" She bounced on the balls of her feet, a mixture of excitement and apprehension in her voice.

Kiya chuckled, her earlier anxieties momentarily forgotten. "Don't worry, Lula," she said, patting her morph gun. "If any metalheads or marauders try to crash our party, they'll be sorry they messed with us."

Lula grinned, her green eyes sparkling like precious gemstones. Suddenly, she launched herself at Kiya, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that could rival the grip of a metalhead claw. "You're the best, Kiya!" Lula chirped, her voice muffled by Kiya's shoulder. "I know you'll protect us from all those scary Wasteland creatures!"

Kiya let out an "Oof!" as the air was squeezed from her lungs. "K... Lula... air... need... air..." she managed to gasp out, patting Lula's back weakly.

Lula instantly released her, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "Oops! Sorry, Kiya," she giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I'm just so happy to be spending the weekend with my besties!" She twirled around the room, her red braids swirling like a fiery tornado. "This is going to be the best trip ever!"

Kiya, still catching her breath, couldn't help but smile. Lula's energy was like a jolt of pure electricity, sometimes overwhelming, but always bringing a spark of joy to their little group. It was hard to feel down when Lula was around.

Tish, observing the scene with a smirk, raised an eyebrow. "Where's MY suffocating hug then?" she asked, extending her arms dramatically. "Don't I deserve a near-death experience too?"

Lula giggled and bounced over to Tish, engulfing her in a similarly enthusiastic embrace. "Of course, Tish! You're my bestie too!" Tish, momentarily stunned by the sudden onslaught of affection, managed a muffled, "Okay, okay, point made..." before gently pushing Lula away.

Lula, oblivious to Tish's slight discomfort, continued to beam. "This is going to be so much fun! We'll have the best time ever!" She bounced back over to Kiya, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Just imagine, Kiya! Pretoria! The festival! The music! The food! The..."

Kiya, watching the exchange with amusement, couldn't help but chuckle. Tish, with her usual stoic expression replaced by a look of mild bewilderment, shot Kiya a playful glare.

"What're you laughing at?" she asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Oh, nothing," Kiya replied, her grin widening. "Just appreciating the finer points of pre-adventure chaos."

Tish rolled her eyes at Kiya's answer. It truly amazed her how her two best friends were so different from her, yet they managed to get along so well.

Amidst the flurry of excitement and chatter, a calm voice cut through the air. "Okay, I'm ready now, ladies." Drey appeared in the doorway, his wind-swept jet-black hair framing his face, his gray and blue attire a stark contrast to the vibrant colors surrounding him. He leaned against the doorframe, a relaxed smile playing on his lips.

Kiya glanced up, her face lighting up like a fireworks display. "Oh hey, Drey," she said, a playful lilt in her voice. "You're all done?"

"Yeah, all set," Drey replied, pushing himself off the doorframe and sauntering towards her. A subtle hint of his cologne, something woodsy and warm, filled the air as he approached. He leaned against the wall next to her, one arm casually draped over her shoulder.

"Can't wait to spend some quality time with you this weekend, babe," he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Kiya's spine.

Kiya giggled, leaning into his touch. "Same here. Been counting down the days since the trip got approved."

"Awesome," Drey said, his brown eyes sparkling with affection. He gently tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind Kiya's ear, his touch sending a warm tingle through her. "Just two whole days of us hanging out, having fun, and escaping the parental radar."

Kiya blushed, her heart fluttering like a trapped flut flut. "Yeah. No parents, no rules. Just us against the world."

"Sweet," Drey agreed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, leaving Kiya breathless and wanting more.

"Ahem." Tish cleared her throat, her voice laced with amusement. "Okay, you two, save the lovey-dovey stuff for when you're alone. We've got a festival to catch!" She headed towards the door, her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

Kiya, cheeks flushed, straightened up and grabbed her knapsack. "Right," she said, shooting Drey a playful wink. "We've got our supplies, we've had our bathroom breaks, and we're ready to unleash some serious fun."

"Oh yeah!" Tish exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air.

"Yay!" Lula squealed, bouncing up and down like an overcharged zoomer.

"Party time," Drey added, a grin spreading across his face.

With that, the four friends filed out of Kiya's room, their laughter echoing down the hallway as they embarked on their adventure.

The friends descended the creaking stairs, their chatter and laughter echoing through the apartment. As they reached the living room, a warm, comforting aroma of spiced rum filled the air. Kiya's father, Cale, was settled in his worn armchair, a steaming mug cradled in his hands. His black hair, streaked with gray, was slightly disheveled, and his shirt strained a bit over his comfortably rounded belly as he leaned back with a contented sigh.

"Okay, Dad, we're heading out now!" Kiya announced, her voice brimming with excitement.

Cale looked up, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Alright, princess," he said, taking a sip of his rum. "You all have fun out there. And try not to cause too much mayhem, eh?"

Kiya rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't worry, Dad, we'll be careful. We're not planning on starting any interplanetary wars or anything."

"Yeah, Cale, Kiya's got us covered," Lula chimed in, her voice a cheerful melody.

Kiya proudly held up her morph gun, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That's right. Anyone tries to mess with us, they'll be facing the wrath of my trusty morph gun."

Cale chuckled, his belly shaking like a bowlful of jelly. "Oh, Kiya, you and that morph gun. You two are inseparable."

"She treats that thing like it's her firstborn child," Tish quipped, her lips curving into a sly smirk. Lula and Drey giggled in response, and Kiya felt her cheeks flush.

"I do not!" she protested, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just appreciate a good weapon when I see one, that's all."

The laughter in the room evaporated as a soft cough broke the spell. Kiya turned to see her stepmother, Dafleen, her long light brown hair neatly swept into a side ponytail, standing by the doorway.

"Hold on a moment, Kiya," Dafleen said, her voice a gentle ripple in the sudden quiet.

Kiya's excited smile faltered. "What is it, Dafleen?" she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

Dafleen approached her stepdaughter, her expression carefully neutral, but her dark eyes holding a glint of determination. "Before you go, there's something I need to discuss with you."

"Can't it wait?" Kiya asked, impatience creeping into her voice. "We're kind of in a hurry, ya' know."

Dafleen placed a hand on Kiya's shoulder, her touch surprisingly firm. "This might sound a little last minute," she began, her voice taking on a persuasive tone, "but I think it would be beneficial for Koren to join you on your trip."

A beat of silence hung in the air, broken only by the ticking of the old clock on the wall. Kiya's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?!" she exclaimed, whirling around to see her stepbrother, Koren, a tall boy one year older with messy brown hair and dark eyes, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, his arms crossed and a look of disdain plastered on his face.

"No, no, no!" Kiya protested, her voice rising in pitch. "This was supposed to be a trip with just me and my friends! I'm not taking... him!"

Koren scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Oh, the agony," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Forced to endure a weekend with your beloved stepbrother. How utterly dreadful."

"Dafleen, please don't make me take him," Kiya pleaded, turning back to her stepmother with a desperate look in her eyes. "He's so loud and annoying! He'll ruin the whole trip!"

"Hey, I can hear you, ya' know," Koren interjected, his tone laced with mock offense.

"I know, that's why I said it," Kiya retorted, her voice sharp with scorn.

Koren, unable to resist the urge to provoke her further, stuck his tongue out at Kiya, who promptly returned the gesture.

Dafleen, her carefully composed facade starting to crack, sighed. "Kiya, I really think it would be beneficial for both of you if Koren came along," she insisted, her voice taking on a sterner edge. "You two need to spend some quality time together, learn to appreciate each other."

"Hell no!" Kiya snarled, her anger flaring. "No way in hell am I spending a whole weekend with that... that... creep!" She spun around, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her body radiating defiance.

Koren glared at his stepsister, his dark eyes burning with disdain.

Cale, sensing the situation escalating, cleared his throat. "Kiya," he said, his voice firm, "that's enough! Try to be a bit more civil. Your stepmother is right. This could be a good opportunity for you and Koren to bond like real siblings."

Tish gently placed a hand on Kiya's arm, offering silent support. Lula, her usual exuberance dampened by the tension, fidgeted nervously.

Koren, though seemingly nonchalant, avoided Kiya's gaze. A flicker of insecurity crossed his features, quickly masked by his usual arrogance. He didn't want to go on this trip any more than Kiya wanted him there, but he had to do it. He wanted his mother off his back, and this was the only way to make that happen.

"We just can't take Koren with us," Kiya insisted, desperately searching for an escape route. "Besides, there's not enough room in the dune buggy for him. It only holds four people."

"Oh Kiya, you won't be taking that dune buggy," Dafleen said calmly, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Cale, who had been observing the exchange with a thoughtful expression, stepped forward. "We've arranged for you to take a different vehicle," he announced, his voice holding a note of finality. "One that can comfortably accommodate up to six people."

Kiya's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

Dafleen held up a photo of the vehicle in question and handed it to Kiya, a triumphant glint in her eyes. The glossy print depicted a rugged, sand-colored Sand Rover, its reinforced plating and oversized tires promising to conquer any terrain. A large turret mounted in the center hinted at its defensive capabilities, while handlebars on the sides suggested a thrilling, open-air riding experience.

"Well, it looks cool, I guess," Kiya conceded, her eyes scanning the impressive machine. "At least it has a turret for blasting those Wasteland metalheads to smithereens." But her defiance quickly returned. "But I'm still not bringing Koren along!" she declared, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dafleen, her patience with her stepdaughter wearing thin, fixed Kiya with a stern gaze. "You don't have a choice, young lady," she stated firmly. "You're taking Koren with you, and that's final."

Kiya gritted her teeth, her fists clenching. A wave of anger washed over her, hot and suffocating. It wasn't fair! This was supposed to be her adventure, her escape, her chance to finally have some fun with her friends. Now, her stepmother was ruining everything by forcing her to bring along her arrogant, insufferable stepbrother.

Kiya glanced pleadingly at her father, who stood behind Dafleen, a hesitant expression on his face. "Dad..." she began, her voice laced with desperation.

"Do as your stepmother says, Kiya," Cale said, his voice gentle but firm. He avoided her gaze, a flicker of doubt clouding his eyes.

Kiya felt a lump forming in her throat. It was as if the ground had opened up beneath her feet, swallowing her whole. Her own father was siding with Dafleen, against her. A wave of despair washed over her, leaving her feeling isolated and betrayed.

"Fine..." she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll take Mr. High-and-Mighty with me."

Dafleen nodded curtly, a smug smile curving her lips. "Good girl," she said, her tone patronizing.

Tish and Lula exchanged worried glances, but remained silent, sensing Kiya's simmering anger. Koren, however, couldn't resist a final jab. "Don't worry, princess," he sneered, "I'll try not to cramp your style too much."

Kiya ignored him, her gaze fixed on the floor. This trip was already turning into a disaster.

"Well, we better get a move on," Drey said, his calm voice cutting through the lingering tension. "We've got a festival to catch, after all."

"Yeah, chop chop, everyone," Tish agreed, clapping her hands together. "Adventure awaits!"

Lula squealed with delight and practically bounced out the door, her enthusiasm contagious. Tish and Drey followed close behind, exchanging excited whispers about the upcoming festivities.

As Kiya stepped onto the threshold, a hand gently touched her shoulder. She turned to see Cale, his brow furrowed with concern. He held out a hefty, metallic object that resembled an oversized pistol.

"Wait a second, Kiya," he said, his voice low and serious. He placed the object into her hands. It was surprisingly heavy and cold against her palm.

"What's this for, Dad?" Kiya asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"It's a flare gun," Cale explained, his eyes holding a hint of worry. "If you and your friends ever find yourselves in trouble, use it. Someone will see it and come find you."

Kiya glanced towards the open door, where the sounds of Haven City's bustling streets drifted in - the rumble of passing zoomers, the chatter of pedestrians, the distant cries of street vendors. "But who's gonna see it all the way out in the Wasteland?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.

"Just trust me on this, sweetheart," Cale insisted, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "This could be a lifesaver. Keep it close."

Kiya, though still puzzled, nodded. "Okay, Dad," she said, tucking the flare gun into her knapsack. "If you say so."

Cale smiled, relief washing over his features. "That's my girl," he said, giving his daughter a final pat on the shoulder. "Now, go have some fun at the festival."

Kiya glanced at Koren, who was scowling and impatiently tapping his foot, his arms crossed tightly. "Well, I'll try, at least," she muttered under her breath. "Come on, Koren, let's go."

"Don't bark orders at me, little girl," Koren snapped, his voice laced with arrogance. "I have seniority."

Kiya rolled her eyes. "Just get your big butt out the door and quit whining," she retorted, her patience wearing thin.

Koren muttered something unintelligible under his breath, mimicking Kiya's words in a mocking falsetto. He stomped out the door, his backpack bouncing against his back with each angry step.

Kiya sighed, watching him go. This was definitely going to be a long weekend.