Queen Vii had only just joined the Vivid Menagerie when the sky came crashing down and the chains were cast aside. Fresh from the harsh trials of life as a Wyld Runner, the collapse of the upper spire was less of a shock to her than to most. She had grown up in chaos, surviving on instinct, speed, and a talent for reading people and beasts.

While veterans of the old order fought, schemed, and tore each other apart in the aftermath, leadership within the gang changed hands with a rapidity that spoke of deep internal turmoil. In this chaos Vii rose - faster than any gang leader before her. While others clung to the dying traditions of the Menagerie, she adapted, and her adaptability became power.

Her leadership style reflects her earliest lessons: organising the hive’s lost children into hunting packs to bring down sump-crocs in the dark. To kill a sump-croc, you must understand its instincts, when it will lunge, when it will flee, and you must know your companions with that same clarity. Who will stand? Who will break? Who has speed, and who has strength? A pack survives only if every member is placed exactly where they are needed.

Vii runs Viridian Unchained the same way. She cultivates distance and a certain fear among her gang, but she knows them — their weaknesses, their hungers, their talents. She arranges them like hunters in a kill-circle, each one positioned for maximum effect. Wild beasts or rival gangs, it makes no difference: whatever the quarry, Vii leads the hunt, and few survive her attention.

As for her name, Vii was once nothing more than a number: VII, the seventh child in a batch of nameless hive orphans destined for expendable labour. She reclaimed the numeral as her identity, turning a designation meant to erase her into a mark of sovereignty. The gang calls her Queen Vii now: part ruler, part apex predator, part ghost of the child who refused to remain a number.

And in the blooming ruins of the viridian reaches, a queen is exactly what she has become.

Echo was not born into the Vivid Menagerie nor shaped by its traditions. She came from the hive’s lowest levels, a silent child who survived by avoiding notice and by moving with uncanny speed when she could not. Queen Vii met her in those early slum years, long before either of them held any power. Vii saw talent where others saw only a strange, withdrawn girl, and she brought Echo with her into the gang.

Echo never fit easily among the others. She spoke little, kept to herself, and seemed to watch everything with a calm focus that unsettled even seasoned gangers. Yet no one questioned her place for long. Her skill with twin stiletto blades was extraordinary. She moved through combat like a flicker of light, striking with a precision and ferocity that seemed to come from some deep, obsessive place within her.

Some whisper that Vii’s rise through the chaos after the spirefall was not entirely her own work, and that certain rivals fell to the points of Echo’s daggers. If this is true, no one has ever proved it. Few would dare to voice such rumours within hearing range of either woman. Echo’s loyalty to Vii is unquestioned, and Vii’s trust in Echo is absolute.

To the gang she remains an enigma. She rarely speaks, rarely smiles, and seems apart from the camaraderie that binds the rest of Viridian Unchained. Yet almost every member owes their life to her. In the heat of a fight, when enemies close in and hope begins to fail, Echo appears with a sudden, silent presence. Her blades blur, her movements defy belief, and the danger is cut away as quickly as it arrived.

The others may never fully understand her, but they know this. Echo is a storm contained within a single dancer’s frame. She is the quiet shadow and sharpest blade that follows Queen Vii.

Matriarch Thorne earned their name long before they rose to a senior position in Viridian Unchained. In the days of the Vivid Menagerie they worked deep inside the containment vaults, maintaining the shock grids, tracking systems and auto-turrets that kept their monsters caged. They had a gift for machines and a nervous system hardened by years spent inches from volatile tech and dangerous creatures.

When the spire collapse tore through their territory, Thorne was one of the first to dig into the wreckage. Most saw only ruin and death, but they saw opportunity. Among twisted beams and shattered consoles they recovered a shattered spiretech monocle lost in the fall. After repairing and jury-rigging it with scavenged circuitry they grafted it into their gear. Since then they have viewed the world through "Glimmer’s" lens of flickering data, semi-sentient tech commentary and shifting heat signatures. With Glimmers help her plasma gun rarely misses its mark.

Thorne is not as charismatic as Queen Vii and not as feared as Echo, but they are respected in a way only competence can earn. They are precise, methodical and utterly reliable. Their spiked pads and heavy weapon disguise them as the gang’s enforcer, but they are truly its quiet engineer. They keep the old tech running, improves what the gang scavenges and know how to make unstable equipment behave long enough to win the fight.

To most of the gang they are an anchor. To Vii they are a trusted lieutenant. And to those who trespass into the ruins of their territory, they are simply the flash of blinding light that comes a heartbeat before the burn.

Eloya grew up in the half-forgotten crawlspaces of the hive, where food was scarce and adults rarer still. She learned to survive by watching the feral Phelynx that prowled the shadows. Most children feared the beasts. Eloya simply studied them. In time she understood their moods well enough to avoid their claws and eventually coax them close with scraps and calm patience.

She never led a gang of slum kids or formed a Wyld Runner pack of her own. She had no peers to rely on and no guidance beyond what she learned through trial and error. Her only companions were the small group of Phelynx that began shadowing her. They were not tamed but seemed content to follow her, as if recognising something familiar in her quiet manner.

Eloya first came to Queen Vii’s attention during a supply run on the fringes of Viridian Unchained territory. Vii noticed a slight girl perched above a collapsed walkway, bow drawn, her Phelynx crouched below like coiled springs. When trouble broke out, Eloya’s beasts moved before she did, and Vii saw something rare: not mastery, but potential. A natural bond. A foundation that could be shaped.

Under Viridian Unchained she has found structure for the first time. She is still withdrawn and far more at ease with her beasts than with other gangers, but she listens, learns, and follows orders with unwavering focus. The older warriors keep a cautious eye on her, half curious and half wary. Among the prospects she is seen as one of the most promising new Wyld Runners in years, although she herself seems unaware of the reputation forming around her.

In battle Eloya is not a whirlwind like Echo nor a strategist like Vii, but when her Phelynx fan out at her sides and she looses an arrow from the gloom, it is clear she is growing into something formidable. For now she remains a quiet presence at the edge of the gang, sharpening her instincts and aim, waiting to take her place as a true hunter.

Phelynx:

Fades-into-twilight ‘Fade’

Follows-bloody-tracks 'Follow'

Javra is an oddity even by Escher standards. Where most of Viridian Unchained carry themselves with the hard edges of hunters and survivors, Javra leans into an exaggerated femininity that feels almost theatrical. She moves with a playful sway, speaks in a honey-sweet lilt, and peppers her sentences with teasing comments that leave the juves flustered and the older gangers rolling their eyes. She claims it is her “secret weapon”.

Anyone who underestimates her quickly learns the truth. Once the fighting starts the act falls away, replaced by roaring laughter and a frightening joy for chaos. Javra swings her grenade launcher 'Boomer' with effortless confidence, firing on the move and turning cover into firestorms. The shift from flirtatious charm to wild demolition makes her feel unpredictable, but she never loses control. Her shots land exactly where she means them to, even when she seems to be firing between giggles.

Before joining Viridian Unchained, Javra worked the fringes of the hive as a courier and distraction artist for various chem-traders. She flirted, smiled, and charmed her way past watchmen while slipping contraband into the shadows behind them. When violence erupted, she relied on her speed. When the syndicate she worked for collapsed, she drifted into Unchained territory and fit herself into the gang with unnerving ease. They needed a specialist. She needed an audience.

The juves adore her and fear her in equal measure. Bandita tries to mimic her flirty confidence and only ends up blushing. Spare stares in pure bewilderment whenever Javra bats her lashes seconds before unleashing a grenade. Even Salvadora, who scoffs at Javra’s “act”, grudgingly admits the woman can blow a hole through anything she aims at.

Javra has no interest in rank or power. She simply enjoys being herself, in all her contradictions. She likes pretty things, dangerous things, and especially the combination of the two. Her motto sums her up perfectly:

“Ask nicely and carry a big gun.”

Milena is not the oldest member of Viridian Unchained, but she might as well be. A handful of years more than the average ganger has given her something rare in the underhive: perspective. She has seen enough fights to know which ones matter and enough death to understand that not every battle needs a hero. Her lasgun is always clean, always sighted, and always ready, and she uses it with a calm proficiency that others in the gang quietly rely on.

Milena is not a fierce brawler nor a glory seeker. She found her place in the gang by staying alive, thinking clearly, and providing steady fire from positions most fighters overlook. When the chaos erupts and younger gangers charge ahead, Milena hangs back, watching the angles and calling warnings. More than once her careful shot has saved someone who never even knew they were in danger.

She has a particular softness for the juves. Bandita’s wild confidence and Spare’s quiet uncertainty both tug something in her that she rarely speaks about. Some whisper she hopes to raise a daughter of her own one day, and though Milena deflects those comments, she does nothing to hide the way she looks after the younger fighters. She keeps Bandita from getting herself killed and makes sure Spare knows when she has done well. In the brutal churn of underhive life, Milena is as close to a big sister as most of them will ever have.

Ambition has never tempted her. She has no desire to rise among the ranks of the gang. Leadership is dangerous and demands the kind of calculated hardness she does not have. Milena prefers the role she already fills: a steady hand at the edge of the fight, a protective presence behind the excitable and the inexperienced, and a trusted marksman whose quiet reliability has become one of the gang’s hidden strengths.

In a world where everyone is trying to climb higher, Milena’s greatest power is knowing exactly where she belongs.

Salvadora is one of the few who clearly remembers the days of the Vivid Menagerie. She recalls the wealth, the respect, and the sense of security their old trade once brought. The collapse took all of that from her, and she has carried a bitter edge ever since. She survived the spirefall, but the life she knew did not, and she has never forgiven the hive for the loss.

Age and experience have hardened her. Her humour is sharp and often unpleasant, and the younger fighters keep their distance. Bandita avoids provoking her and Spare never quite meets her eyes, but both know that having Salvadora beside them in a fight is far better than facing trouble without her. Her lasgun is battered but reliable and her blade work is fast, vicious and practiced. She seems to take particular satisfaction in fighting Goliaths, though she rarely explains why.

Salvadora envies Queen Vii’s rise, believing that in another time she might have claimed leadership for herself. She is not reckless enough to challenge Vii directly. Instead she hides her resentment behind sardonic comments and a show of rough loyalty. She does what the gang needs, gathers spoils, and deals with problems quickly and without fuss.

Despite her sharp tongue and intimidating presence, Salvadora is respected. She has instincts born from years of surviving the worst the hive can offer and a readiness to do unpleasant tasks that others avoid. The juves may flinch from her jokes and the older gangers may watch her carefully, but all of Viridian Unchained understands her value.

She may grumble about the gang’s diminished status, but she still fights for it with fierce determination. Salvadora is difficult, dangerous and deeply flawed, yet she remains one of the gang’s most reliable blades. In the end, she is proof that the old Menagerie did not die completely. It lives on in her scars, her skill and the bite she brings to every battle.

Bandita earned her name long before she ever set foot in Viridian Unchained. She grew up working on the lasgun assembly lines, where unshielded sparks flashed and explosions were a daily hazard. Most workers kept their heads down and their eyes averted, but Bandita could not hide her fascination with the weapons she built. She studied every part she handled, testing the balance of incomplete frames and practicing quick draws with deactivated grips. It was only a matter of time before security noticed her “enthusiasm” and she made a hasty exit from factory life.

She joined Viridian Unchained soon after, armed with a stolen laspistol and a grin that suggested she had very little idea what consequences were. What she lacked in discipline she made up for in raw energy. In her first real fight she charged headlong toward a position she had no business reaching, vaulting debris and firing wildly. Somehow she survived, and the gang quickly learned that her reckless courage could be infectious.

Bandita is a risk taker by nature. She rushes into danger, dives into plans she barely understands, and is always eager to prove herself to Queen Vii and the senior fighters. She watches Eloya with a mix of admiration and envy, seeing in the quiet Wyld Runner a potential future she desperately wants for herself. Her jealousy has never turned cruel, but it fuels her determination to push harder and climb faster.

Despite her flaws, Bandita is genuinely liked. Her enthusiasm lifts spirits, her loyalty is absolute, and her willingness to throw herself into harm’s way has saved more than one ganger. She is a spark of chaotic optimism in a gang shaped by hardship. The older members shake their heads at her antics, but none of them would deny her place among Viridian Unchained.

One day she may learn caution. For now she lives every moment at full charge, laspistols blazing, desperate to show the hive that she was never meant to be just another factory worker.

Spare joined Viridian Unchained so recently that most of the gang still struggle to remember her real name. New blood are always tested with a teasing nickname, and hers stuck the moment someone darkly joked she was only there to make up the numbers. She took the name with a shrug. She knew she had not earned anything better yet.

Unlike Bandita, Spare did not arrive with bravado or a stolen gun. All she carried were a pair of knives and the quiet conviction that she could make herself useful. She had grown up in the narrow workings of the lower hive where throwing a blade straight could mean the difference between catching a meal and going hungry. Accuracy was survival, and Spare learned quickly. By the time Vii’s scouts noticed her, she could hit a sump rat between the eyes at twenty paces using a rusted stiletto.

In training she has shown promise. Her aim is steady, her stance is disciplined, and she listens carefully to corrections without complaint. Some of the older gangers enjoy teasing her, but even they admit that she has potential. The real question is what will happen when the first real fight surrounds her. It is one thing to throw a knife in a quiet tunnel and another to keep your hands from shaking when bullets scream past your head.

Still, Spare has earned her chance. Queen Vii allows no passengers in the gang, and the fact that Spare stands among them means she has something worth shaping. Whether she becomes a true hunter or ends up as just another name in the underhive’s long list of casualties is up to her. For now she sharpens her blades, practices in the shadows, and waits for the moment when she can prove that Spare was only ever a temporary name.