They call him Quixos. A short, broad mutant with lumpy purple skin, a battered cane, and a pistol older than most of the Cursed Earth. Born beneath skies that burned the wrong colors, Quixos survived the storms that twisted the world, and the people in it.

Now an elder of the Roane Deepers, he’s the one the young mutants come to before every raid into the ruins and the shadowed edges of Mega-City One.

He walks slow these days. Not because he’s weak. Because someone has to make sure the rest of them make it home.