“Arbiter H-6, there is an airship two clicks from your grid on an unauthorized flight path. Be advised, it is not responding to our hails.”
“Copy that control, on my way to assess the aircraft.”
H-6 was hovering above one of the Spire decks of his Grid, just above the sector where The Culinary sat. Not a sign of the past few day’s crime was present, students
Their visors could check the faint traces of more bodies at the next room, stacking up they begin their breach. Frank goes in first, his shield primed while H-6 and his right shoulder gun peaked just out of cover. The area they entered was a balcony that overlooked what appeared to be a processing floor. A myriad of cylinders and distillation equipment dotted a long line of tables, and an unknown substance seemed to be the product evident by what appeared to be a packing machine that was continually releasing sealed bottles filled with a strange purple liquid.
That was all the Engineer had disclosed, that was all he could remember. The rest of his days were marked by unending labor sequences and frequent beatings. It was a damned miracle he could even stay sober at this point. “What’s going to happen to us now?” The man asked, his face barely containing enough muscles to strain any concern on his face. H-6 wasn’t listening, he was deep in thought. Pondering what all of this meant, a spiredeck torn down by gang violence and the departure of an employer. This had records. He had to get to the bottom of it.
“Room 19 Euro-African fusion” the signboard stood out against the rest, a mixture of colors meant perhaps to represent the goal of the classroom. The smells that came out was a mix of spices that seemed fit for the respective class that was soon ending. The door swung open and out marched the city’s culinary future. With their aprons folded and their equipment in tow. H-6 spotted the Tiago-Villalobos amidst the sea of white and black. “Ronaldo Tiago-Villalobos” he called, the students halted and turned at the armored man behind them. Sheepishly, one raised his. “Ye-s Arbiter?” Ronaldo stammered as he approached H-6. “Citizen, do you need to be somewhere?”
“Iha, you ok?” Leyland’s words didn’t register into Sol’s brain till some five seconds had passed, Her processes had effectively turned into mush and her vision was reading the overbearing weight of reality. It was as if she couldn’t comprehend the world outside of a dream, or for a more accurate description. She felt like she was still in a dream. “I don’t think so” She mumbled, before wolfing down the plate of meat and rice in front of her. The dish was called tapsilog, like most things in the Pacific Capital. It was a remnant of the long dead Philippine nation. The term was a combina
“We’re close” Leyland said, looking at the car’s map on the HUD. “You just memorized it? The guide isn’t talking.” Sol asked, “Yeah, that’s how dark net meet ups go. You know the Court keeps a track of these things don’t you?”Sol’s memory shifts a decade back, to her University days. One of her friends was a Court Orphan. Based on how smart he was, the guy was on track to become an Arbiter. Given the dread silence she received from him. It was safe to say he probably was. “
Sol’s head had begun to clear by now, but still Leyland was driving. The two reviewed a few profiles of their little destination. Fringe Zones were entire city sections, filled with abandoned factories, ruined out shopping malls and even the rubble of entire residential blocks. Needless to say, in an overpopulated city like the Pacific Capital. The desperate and the outcasts tended to gravitate towards such places despite the constant flooding and the general neglect. Sergio Spiredeck’s east road was a steady downward drive that headed straight to Fringe Zone 26
Leyland wasted no time, pulling up a map on their synced huds. Their AR glasses lit up as they entered the compound. Scanners showed nothing, life signs. Tech symbols and a few hazard warnings for a gas tank or two lying around. The pair paid good money for them, a hefty upgrade for their ocular implants.The compound, like the rest of the little community was a wreck. Scattered garbage, ruined crates and scrap waste hauled from the floodzones. It looked lived in. At least it was supposed to be, cooking equipment, dining tables. Scattered slippers, the sight of food left cooking .But, it was empty.
The hologram snaked around the spire’s base. Bristling as it blared the consumerist propaganda upon the mesmerized masses above and below. Despite the rather oppressive symbolism that the holograms represented, there was an undeniable charm to their presence. Bright animated lights, dancing with writhing expression as they drew in the subconscious mindset of the city’s tired population.
The Arbiter had moved deeper into the avenue. In his wake, he had left many dead, dying or subdued. He had gone through two clips and his trigger finger had felt the quiet sting of fatigue. H-6 prayed for the gang’s surrender, but a few were still rallying their defiance. He caught a glimpse of them, through the sensor saturated blanket of his war visor. Older gangers would wave their weapons in blatant defiance, using their innate charisma and leadership to rally the younger ones back into the fight.That
The Enforcer Pods landed with a rather offputting sense of grace. Their metal feet trudging with gentle care as they unlatched their weapons from their circular bulk.“Arbiter. We are awaiting commands.” The 10 foot tall war machine grumbled with i
Ymir pulled the trigger, releasing the ammo in quick short burts. He recited the mantra in his head. “Aim, squeeze fast, keep short.” A bullet landed on a target, the body pushed by the first. Was ended by other five that landed on his head. The kid rested behind the barricade, adrenaline was now leaving his body, sweat had caked his clothes and were now stinging his eyes.He wip
The hologram snaked around the spire’s base. Bristling as it blared the consumerist propaganda upon the mesmerized masses above and below. Despite the rather oppressive symbolism that the holograms represented, there was an undeniable charm to their presence. Bright animated lights, dancing with writhing expression as they drew in the subconscious mindset of the city’s tired population.
Leyland wasted no time, pulling up a map on their synced huds. Their AR glasses lit up as they entered the compound. Scanners showed nothing, life signs. Tech symbols and a few hazard warnings for a gas tank or two lying around. The pair paid good money for them, a hefty upgrade for their ocular implants.The compound, like the rest of the little community was a wreck. Scattered garbage, ruined crates and scrap waste hauled from the floodzones. It looked lived in. At least it was supposed to be, cooking equipment, dining tables. Scattered slippers, the sight of food left cooking .But, it was empty.
Sol’s head had begun to clear by now, but still Leyland was driving. The two reviewed a few profiles of their little destination. Fringe Zones were entire city sections, filled with abandoned factories, ruined out shopping malls and even the rubble of entire residential blocks. Needless to say, in an overpopulated city like the Pacific Capital. The desperate and the outcasts tended to gravitate towards such places despite the constant flooding and the general neglect. Sergio Spiredeck’s east road was a steady downward drive that headed straight to Fringe Zone 26
“We’re close” Leyland said, looking at the car’s map on the HUD. “You just memorized it? The guide isn’t talking.” Sol asked, “Yeah, that’s how dark net meet ups go. You know the Court keeps a track of these things don’t you?”Sol’s memory shifts a decade back, to her University days. One of her friends was a Court Orphan. Based on how smart he was, the guy was on track to become an Arbiter. Given the dread silence she received from him. It was safe to say he probably was. “
“Iha, you ok?” Leyland’s words didn’t register into Sol’s brain till some five seconds had passed, Her processes had effectively turned into mush and her vision was reading the overbearing weight of reality. It was as if she couldn’t comprehend the world outside of a dream, or for a more accurate description. She felt like she was still in a dream. “I don’t think so” She mumbled, before wolfing down the plate of meat and rice in front of her. The dish was called tapsilog, like most things in the Pacific Capital. It was a remnant of the long dead Philippine nation. The term was a combina
“Room 19 Euro-African fusion” the signboard stood out against the rest, a mixture of colors meant perhaps to represent the goal of the classroom. The smells that came out was a mix of spices that seemed fit for the respective class that was soon ending. The door swung open and out marched the city’s culinary future. With their aprons folded and their equipment in tow. H-6 spotted the Tiago-Villalobos amidst the sea of white and black. “Ronaldo Tiago-Villalobos” he called, the students halted and turned at the armored man behind them. Sheepishly, one raised his. “Ye-s Arbiter?” Ronaldo stammered as he approached H-6. “Citizen, do you need to be somewhere?”