Ames quietly ambled out of the cage elevator, which was tangled in sparking wires. Behind her, they buzzed and the doors shut. Chilling. She wondered how they hadn’t shocked her to death yet.

The wide, but dark lobby blurred from her swift steps. She stopped by the entrance, leaned against the opaque glass wall and, pretending to search for something in the pockets of her tight black pants--in her camo green pouch thereafter--scanned both directions. An insane amount of wariness for exiting her own damn home. Though she had to do it: you wouldn’t believe the lack of privacy people had, especially parents’ friends. I’m a damn person, minding my own damn business, not a thing fetching machine to be tracked every second, she thought. At least it’s as clear as it can be. Her head rose.

There was a face thirty centimeters away from hers.

One second, Ames gasped, the other her hand flung to cover her mouth.

“Ha, didn’t mean to scare you,” Kalvin, the overweight Worker who never took off his hard hat said. He spent most of his time taking care of the realm. When he didn’t, he lived on the floor below Ames’--or you could say her parents’--apartment, often coming over for a chat. All in all, to meet Kalvin she needed atrocious luck.

Ames raised an assuring thumb.

“Say, where’re you going? I might have a little job for you.” A job, as in, hours of tiring work for a creditcoin, two if you broke a bone and he was feeling extra generous.

Ames rolled her eyes inside her head at least seven times. On her face, an artificial smile appeared and she pointed at Centercity’s exit that could be seen through the translucent glass doors.

“Great! A fella down in The Sparks has a debt with me. Felix is his name. Just go there, find his building and ask him for it. I’ll give you a cut -- it’s a big debt so it’s worth it for you.”

The Sparks? The fucking Sparks?! That debt better be a million fucking credits! Ames raised her eyebrow.

Kalvin instantly took the cue. “It’s a whole fifty credits!”

Yup, you got it. She’d really be risking her life and the most terrifying type of death for a cut of a fifty credit debt. Very few deals in this world could get worse. Nonetheless, Ames nodded and strode away from the man.

He clutched her forearm, almost making her gasp the second time in a minute.

“Is there anything wrong?” Kalvin said in a low voice. “You haven’t spoken a word.”

Ames waved dismissively, threw both thumbs up and put on a cheerful face. For a moment, the man’s grip weakened. Goodbye, ungrateful bastard. She pulled her arm out, hurried out of the white, five floor building she lived in, and into an alley ahead.

The system of Centercity’s alleys, hidden parking lots and open warehouses you could pass through had been etched into her mind ever since childhood. A person in the know could get somewhere twice as fast as using a road or wander around the system for a while to lose anybody on their tail.

Ames picked a combination of both, five minutes later exiting the district through a gap in the surrounding wall. A few ads had recently been placed on it and the whole thing was now covered in thick wires. Some of those black snakes parted to uncover holes every fair citizen of Centercity knew about. The day I can’t sneak through here is the day we’re all truly fucked. At least I’m not gonna be living in Centercity by then…

You might not know, but a stupid plan brewed in her mind. First, you’ve gotta understand that Ames had a life thousands of Realm 224’s inhabitants wished for. Centercity was a perfect place to live, compared to everything outside it. Sure, all of its inhabitants had to have habits that irritated her to meltdown levels, but that could be ignored, considering these people had their reasons to be as annoying as a surprise towerchief dinner in the middle of the night. She understood it all--in the end, mastermind was her class--yet she still undoubtedly wanted to leave. How to do so was her big dumb plan. You might say there are big leaps between wanting, being ready, and doing, but don’t worry: she’d made the first step. Long ago, when she first experienced what gave her life.

The bustling city flashed past her. Ames kept to the route, not even bothering to raise her eyes. A few times, she bumped into pedestrians. Once, a creature hit her. None of it mattered. She’d love to be polite and mumble a sorry, but current circumstances made kindness impossible.

The countless bland buildings and bumpy roads of The Residents came into view.

Ames passed nine tenths of the district focused on her feet.

A lot of the people on the sides of the streets whispered to one another, staring at her with suspicious eyes. A lonely girl dressed in fancy clothes passing through The Residents was dumbfounding. Yet many of the passersby had gotten used to the sight. In the end, no one would attack her, let alone try to empty her pockets. Even though life had beaten these people down, they were reluctant to treat others the same way.

Or, you know, they’re afraid to attack a Centercity girl who could place a 1,000C$ bounty on their head.

By an abandoned, cylinder-shaped apartment, Ames came to a stop. A few faint holograms still sadly hovered around, flickering, shining some light inside. Ames pushed the broken sliding door open and squeezed inside then climbed the makeshift stairs made out of the remains of an elevator to the top roofless floor.

The dumbassess could’ve chosen any floor, yet they went for the one unprotected from nature’s elements. Not like there were many in a realm, but still -- what if a rooftop ghost attacked?

Ames stopped in the hallway.

On each wall, there were large holes with glaring views into each apartment. And each apartment was empty. Where in the world did you all go? she thought, bedazzled for a moment. Then she grabbed a door and slammed it. The handle went straight through the weak wall and the wood door rattled, shooting splinters onto the ground.

“Who’s there?!” A voice echoed from… somewhere.

Ames slammed her foot three times then clapped once.

“Finally!” The voice neared. Footsteps suddenly sounded all around her. Then a fist crashed through the floor, about a meter from her feet. Ames jumped, heart pounding. “I hope you brought something good!”

Palto stuck his head out. Every day it seemed that his ginger beard grew longer at the expense of his black hair receding.

Ames opened her mouth wide and spat out a small box into her hands. After a minute of painfully trying to get her nails into the tiny crack, the box opened and she took out five sticks filled with neon liquid.

To celebrate, Ames bmoved her tongue: having to sneakily carry that box through the entire realm made her realize how privileged she was to be able to use her mouth.

“Extremely expensive potions. They should be able to feed at least some of you for a week. If you learn to share, you all might be good for… three days?” She handed Palto the sticks.

“Ew.” He snatched them.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” Ames said. “The first thing on your mind if someone steals something expensive from your shop is to check the surrounding area. I could’ve been caught and executed on my way here!”

“You could’ve just put them in your pocket.” Palto chuckled to himself then jerked his head. “Come on in.”

His sense of humour became more frustrating every day. Or his idiocy became more apparent. Ames couldn’t tell anymore. She crouched. “What are you doing in the crawlspace?”

“We found something. Extraordinary, you could say. Or extraordinarily dumb.” Palto crawled out of sight.

Being able to recognize something stupid is the first part of not being stupid so he's got a positive in his case, Ames thought. The bandit’s voice continued. “We haven’t really figured it out yet. Kinda hoping you’re gonna set us straight.”

“Just because I’m a mastermind doesn’t mean I know everything!” Ames hopped in the hole after him. “Would’ve been a hench if it was my choice.”

“I know. Now, mind your head. Don’t wanna get a nail stuck in your skull. Unnice experience.”

Ames put a hand over her hair and ordered her CHEK to shine a faint light. The tunnels of this crawlspace went under the walls. Ames could’ve navigated herself, but she surely didn’t want to end up in a dead end she wasn’t supposed to see, shivering at the imagery of a mushroomhead or a parasitius gnawing off her face.

Second worst death -- getting sizzled to death by electricity takes the victory by a nose hair a.k.a the dignity of the average trader.

Palto led her to the area under the building’s fanciest apartment’s bathroom. Almost all of the gang had cramped in there: twelve people in a room where at most two were meant to fit. Everyone either said hello or jerked their head up. But instantly afterwards, their gazes returned to something tiny in the middle.

They’re dying of hunger… Ames tried rummaging to the center. And whatever they found is more intriguing than a person with “food”...

Char sat in the middle, her huge body covering the discovery. Ames cleared her throat. Char’s eyes jumped up, she hurried to finish tinkering with the object and finally cleared the view of a doll. Well, not a doll, not a little person or a robot, but you could--at least in part--consider it all of them.

Some sort of odd, squid-like creature had made itself a home inside an old wooden figure, crudely dressed in moldy clothes and a pair of scissors in hand. “That is pretty cool,” Ames spoke, “but come on, this’ll literally just do the job of a robot, but worse. If we even know how to control it.”

“It is pretty cool, period. No exceptions.” Char took a piece of cheese out of her pocket and threw it into a corner. The doll made one step and turned. Then wind whooshed and the doll appeared in the corner, munching on the cheese, loud as mom bragging whenever she had the opportunity to.

Ames jaw freefell. “It’s that fast…”

“It’s just that hungry for cheese.” Char laughed, grabbing the doll. “You place cheese anywhere not too far from it, give it a nudge in the right direction and you’ve got yourself a perfect apparatus to clean someone’s unrightfully owned inventory.” She smirked, showing her engraved teeth. “Though neither I or anyone else has any clue what creature that is exactly. Don’t know its limitations or if it turns into an all devouring evil god in a while…”

“Can’t answer that myself.” Ames shook her head. “Though I can ask if we’ve got anything to repo?”

“Well, about that…”

“Alright.” She snatched the doll. Don’t need to hear more -- I’ve seen that face a thousand times. “I’ll sell it. Should go for around a hundred creds or just enough for a few weeks of food for all of you.”

“About that too.” Char scratched a red tattoo under her right eye. “Listen, could we talk privately?”

A weight dropped on Ames’ shoulders, She let all the air out of her lungs and waved after herself. They navigated the crawlspace for a minute, stopping under a room where they couldn’t hear the rest of the gang. Can’t hear them, can’t hear us.

“I’m tired of just sitting here, waiting. We all are -- we’re unused professionals,” Char began. “I understand waiting for a few weeks, but… it’s been almost a year since we’ve been doing this. And nothing is happening.”

“It’s slow progress, but it’s progress,” Ames snapped. Not even that deep inside, she knew the truth, but admitting it would be hard -- that would mean too much was lost. “I can live a double life,” instead she said.

Char smiled, shaking her head. May all the best curses damn her for life for understanding Ames so well. “Have you thought about it?”

“Not right--”

“Are you going back to your old life or living your life?” Char cut her off. “You haven’t got a third choice and you ain’t got long to decide. We might just leave one day. And when we do, all ties are no more. Our names will probably disappear in a week too. The rapture’s-a-coming and until then your mind’s gotta be straight.” Her last words came out with an old rambling man’s accent.

“Wait! Just wait… a few more weeks. I’m close, I promise I’ll--”

“Ames, I trust you, but close simply won’t cut it. Results. Answers. Decisions. Jobs. Shit, the creds you’ll make from that doll shouldn’t go to food -- we’ll need equipment.” Char handed her a list scribbled on a piece of carpet.

Ames grabbed her forehead. A few tears went down her cheek. Like you’d guess, every single thing Char said was true. It was nothing new. Ames just couldn’t tell when this decision, between choosing the streetlife or the Centercity life, would come. Every day, it neared, but she still had somehow managed to put it off. Ha, far into the future! Dumbass, it’s happening right now. Her head shook faster. And I’ve got no clue.

The ground moved under her feet.

It was either the lack of air or the claustrophobic darkness of the crawlspace or the building was really collapsing. The movement made the contents of her stomach uneasy, ready to break out and spill across her expensive shoes.

“I gotta go -- there’s something I gotta take care of,” she jumbled and hastily hurried out. Emerging into the surface, she gasped for air, then hurried down the abandoned building. For the first few moments, her thoughts rushed. In these sorts of situations, the things overwhelming you tended to disappear way before their after effects.

Her mind was clear, but her body still ran as if every creature in the Realm chased after her. Perhaps Char or someone else from the gang actually did.

It didn’t matter.

Ames aimlessly ran around Realm 224’s districts--passing massive crowds, vibrant shops and gloomy apartments--before turning back towards Centercity.

Halfway there, the plaza’s statue in view, she remembered Kalvin’s request. There’s no time. No matter what I do, come back empty handed or late, I’m in at least some trouble. Considering all the shit I’ve done over the past few weeks, they’ll suspect nothing better than murder, she thought. The shade of the sky was turning dark. Frustration, all that her body could handle, filled her. She screamed at a kid playing tag with friends. She screamed at the sky for not staying bright a while longer. Dumbass Workers could make it day permanently...

The kid tripped and his group of friends stared at Ames in shock.

She shook her head, turned on her heel and ran towards The Sparks. A minute passed. She skidded to a stop, halted into an alley behind a bar and painfully smacked into the side of a dumpster.

A sharp corner of the metal cut her pants.

Ames' hands flailed around, tossing its trash out. Then she gave the digging effort up and her back crashed against the bar’s wall with faded art.

Her legs weakened and bent.

Ames’ face fell into her palms, tears streaming. Why did she have to be such an idiot? Why did she have to choose an exciting life--and go too far in that direction to reasonably turn back--even though everyone, even basic logic, screamed in her face not to do that?!

The tears choked Ames and dampened her mind. She tucked herself into the alley’s darkest corner and forced her body into a ball, fading into sleep. As small splashes appeared on the ground under her face, trash bags tore and metal bent.

After hours of dreamless sleep, Ames snapped back to consciousness. Mind too clear for its own good, neck really sore and sky bright, this truly was the morning after a bad evening. Though she had to wonder to herself: why on earth did a layer of haze cover the fake sky?

Out of the dumpster, trash, bags and all sorts of scraps flew out. The top of the stinky metal box held a dirty blanket which created a sort of a tent over her. She grinned and struggled to her feet. Wonderfully friendly hobos today. Might as well thank them and… face the consequences of my idiocy…

Ames stepped in front of the dumpster and leaned in. A view she didn’t expect welcomed her: the doll feasting on the trash. It seemingly felt her eyes land on it and stopped a moment later, and turned around.

“Huh, I thought you built me a tent,” Ames said.

The doll stared for a moment longer then returned to eating.

I might’ve been right. The alley was clear, without a trace of any other human. This doll is worth faaaaar more than a few hundred.