"Caym, you are hereby banished from the promethium. You are no longer accepted into the Enlightened," the damning verdict placed upon him still swirled in Caym's consciousness.

"Those fools." Caym cursed, "Those damned fools." 

It was six days into his banishment and he was feeling the strain of the desert upon himself and his supplies. His RJ was running low and unlikely to recover anytime soon since he was such a taboo person to deal with. The very suspicion of anyone aiding him would result in them being found guilty of treason. Unable to face such hostility while running so low on fuel would be too much of a gamble: he wasn’t ready to die, not yet.

Instead, he made his way across the scorching badlands. The corroded earth crumbling beneath his feet, aiming to reach Outlaw territories before he succumbed to dehydration. Twenty-five miles he had travelled from the steel skyscrapers of the promethium, which were now just a blot on the horizon.

The weight of his metal pack and harness felt like it was getting heavier, Caym’s arrogance would not allow him to admit the possibility that he was getting weaker. He pushed on, refusing to concede his vision of replacing Burson Carpathian as the head of The Enlightened.
“The All-Father will fall,” Caym repeated again and again, as if to drive himself forward. His feet marched to the sound of his determined words.

It seemed an eternity since his lips had embraced water, beautiful water, he scanned the horizon in hope of finding a town, any sign of civilization, “To hell with them!, if they won’t assist me I’ll kill them with my bare hands!” Caym yelled, the heat had started to get to him, he needed respite from the blistering sun.

So foolish. For a man so reliant on the technology and maintenance of the Enlightened, banishment was far worse than an execution. Now he was suffering, left to slowly rust away and become another addition to the scrap heap of discarded tools born from the minds of many. What could have been, what SHOULD have been, replayed in Caym's mind. 

“How did it end like this?!”

In the distance, his gaze found a heavy structure, it promised a moment's break - somewhere to rest his weary body. “Shade!” Caym cried, “Marvellous! Time to escape this torturous sun, even if it is for a while.” 

Sparked by his new found determination to reach the haven on the horizon, Caym gathered what he could of his energy and powered towards it. As he got closer and closer, the structure started to take shape and the ground beneath him became harder to walk on, becoming flaky and uneven. Caym was soon facing a huge rocky outcrop which reached out from the crusted earth, wilted trees dotted the peaks of the cliff face. A sensation of relief swept over Caym, he had found refuge from the desert.

Finding a cavern leading to the peaks of the rocky island, Caym rested inside. The decision to continue his travels after a night’s rest was too tempting a thought. So, like a worm burrowing into a hole, Caym made camp. He needed water, but he also needed sleep, it was unknown how long he would be travelling for tomorrow and Caym would need every bit of energy he could muster to make it through.

Caym laid his flight pack down next to the burning fire he had sparked only a few moments ago, his rotary arms scraping against the rock as he made himself comfortable. Tilting his hat forward and preparing himself for the embrace of sleep, the fire danced and threw shadows across the walls of his temporary haven. as Caym closed his eyes he could only think of what may lay ahead on the morrow, the setting sun turned the wasteland to an inky darkness and the silence was deafening, Caym embraced the silence and drifted into a peaceful slumber.