Aria watches from the window of her small house as the winds blow dust across the plains and ruins of the wasteland. She sighs as she turns her back on the window and her attention on the bottle of whiskey that once belonged to her father. She grabs the bottle and sits down on the small armchair. The whiskey sloshes around inside the bottle as she uncaps it. The potent odor of the liquor isn’t enough to put her off as she brings the bottle to her lips and takes a swig. The fiery liquid burns its way down her gullet making her gasp with surprise. The flush of warmth is welcome since the night in the wasteland can grow bitterly cold. She takes another swig as a cloud of greasy black smoke forms in front of her. She lets out a sigh, expecting her uninvited guest to be the Devil. But she’s surprised when a monk in a heavy black robe appears before her. There are strange gold symbols around the cuffs and hood of his robe. She squints expecting to see a face under the hood
Aria lifts her head from the steering wheel with a groan. The ambulance is already on the move and much further away than she would like. Visions of the Devil in his bloody white suit still linger in her mind as she presses the starter button and pushes her foot down on the accelerator. Her car begins moving, but its power is almost half what it should be. As frustrating as that is, she keeps her foot down on the pedal. She knows there is only one hospital standing in Vegas. The ambulance is already at the hospital by the time Aria is able to catch up with it. She can see that its back doors are wide open and the occupants are nowhere to be seen. Aria parks her car near the crumbling remains of a small building next to the hospital. She thinks it may have been a guardhouse back in its glory days. Now it was more or less a pile of rubble. She’s about to get out of the car when she reaches down for her gun and finds that it isn’t there. Instead, her fingers land on something else.