They started with a debt, then found a bloody path through the Deep Stacks, leaving gangers in their wake. Injured and hunted, they built a fragile nest high above the city, a brief sanctuary in the rain-slicked alleys. But the Chrome-Heads found them, and a desperate escape into a ventilation shaft became their final, painful journey. In the cold metal, with the city's hum their only lullaby, they finally succumbed, the synth-mat a last, small comfort.