The city's core was slowly rebuilding, but the further Mara ventured from the central districts, the more forgotten it seemed. Here, in the outer edges where the neon lights barely reached, the real scars of the Syndicate's reign remained. Entire neighborhoods had crumbled into poverty and despair, left to fend for themselves while the city's elite warred over control of the central zones. It was in these forgotten corners that Mara needed to make her presence felt, to show that her vision for the city included everyone—not just those fortunate enough to live within the rebuilt infrastructure.
Mara and Miko walked side by side through the narrow streets, their boots crunching over broken glass and debris. The buildings here were older, many of them abandoned or converted into makeshift shelters. Graffiti-covered walls spoke of rebellion, of anger and mistrust. Messages scrawled in bold, angry letters declared the city's leadership—past and present—as tyrants. To these people, it didn't matter who sat at the top; it was all the same in the end.
"We've been out of sight, out of mind to them," Mara said, scanning the deserted alleyways. "No wonder they're angry."
"They're survivors," Miko replied, his voice low as he eyed the shadows for any signs of life. "These people have been ignored for so long, they've had to create their own rules. It's not like the central districts where order is something you can rebuild. Here, order's been dead for a long time."
As they rounded a corner, Mara spotted a group of children playing in the rubble. They looked malnourished and wary, their laughter hollow and fragile. A few adults watched from nearby, their faces hard with distrust as they noticed Mara and Miko approaching.
One of the men stepped forward, a tall figure with a scarred face and arms covered in tattoos. His eyes locked onto Mara with a sharpness that made it clear he was no stranger to violence. He crossed his arms, blocking their path.
"You lost, lady?" he asked, his voice a deep, gravelly challenge.
Mara shook her head, keeping her expression calm and neutral. "I'm not lost. I'm here because I want to talk."
"Talk?" the man spat, glancing at the others who had started to gather around. "We've had enough of people coming here to 'talk.' Last time someone like you came around, they promised change. You know what we got instead? More of the same—blood, pain, and nothing to show for it."
Miko stepped forward, but Mara raised a hand to stop him. She knew how delicate this situation was. These people didn't need more threats or empty promises; they needed to see that she was different.
"I understand why you don't trust me," Mara said, her voice steady. "I wasn't here when you needed help. But I'm here now, and I want to listen. The city's changing, but it won't mean anything if places like this are left behind."
The man narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Big words. You really think you can fix this place? Look around. We've been left to rot while your city rebuilt itself. People come here when they want something—power, control, whatever. What are you here for?"
Mara met his gaze without flinching. "I'm here because the city can't survive if its people are divided. I'm not offering power or control. I'm offering a chance for something better. But I can't do it without your help."
There was a long silence as the crowd watched her, weighing her words. Finally, the man snorted, shaking his head. "You think words are gonna fix this? You think just because you say things are changing, we're gonna believe it?"
"I don't expect you to believe anything until you see it," Mara replied. "But that's why I'm here. I want to know what you need—what it's going to take to make this place livable again. Tell me what it's going to take to earn your trust."
The man looked at her, his jaw working as he considered her offer. Then he turned to the others, exchanging glances with a few of them before turning back to Mara. "You want to help us? Start by getting us clean water. We've been drinking out of broken pipes for months. Then maybe we'll talk."
Mara nodded. "Done. I'll send people here tomorrow with supplies and get your water running again."
The man still looked skeptical, but he stepped aside, allowing her and Miko to pass. "We'll see if you're as good as your word."
That night, Mara sat at the makeshift headquarters, her mind racing with plans. The Forgotten Corners, as they had come to call these outer districts, had been left to decay for so long that the task of rebuilding seemed impossible. But Mara wasn't interested in doing the impossible. She was interested in doing what was necessary.
"These people need more than just clean water and supplies," Miko said, his voice cutting into her thoughts. "They need leadership, someone who knows this place inside and out. You can't do it all yourself."
Mara looked up at him, exhaustion etched in her features. "I know. But who? They don't trust anyone."
Miko shrugged. "They trust each other. That guy we talked to today—he's got pull around here. He's been keeping people together, keeping things from completely falling apart. Maybe he's the key."
Mara leaned back, considering Miko's words. The man they had spoken to had been hardened by the streets, but he had a presence that commanded respect. He had survived by taking care of his own, and that meant something to these people. If she could get him on her side, maybe he could help bridge the gap between the Forgotten Corners and the rest of the city.
"Alright," Mara said, a plan starting to form in her mind. "Tomorrow, we start with the water. Then I'll go back and talk to him again. If we're going to rebuild, we need people like him on our side."
Miko nodded, his eyes gleaming with approval. "That's the Mara I know. Always thinking ahead."
The next day, true to her word, Mara's team arrived with clean water and supplies. Slowly, the people of the Forgotten Corners began to emerge, curious but still guarded. The man with the scar watched from a distance, his arms crossed, but Mara could see something shift in his eyes. It wasn't trust—not yet—but it was a start.
When Mara approached him later, she spoke plainly. "You saw the water. I meant what I said. We're in this for the long haul, but I need your help. Your people need a voice, someone who can represent them. I want that someone to be you."
The man didn't respond immediately, but after a long silence, he extended his hand. "Name's Rick. You get the rest of this place on its feet, and we'll talk."
Mara shook his hand, sealing the beginning of an alliance. The Forgotten Corners were no longer forgotten. They were part of the future she was building.
And it was only the beginning.