Turks was one of the few places that still sold real beef, you could tell it was because of the smell of the fat that dripped from the pita bread whenever you took a bite. The huge frozen carcass they cut their product also helped. But it also was a bit expensive, unlike the rest of the giant rat and algae fed crab meat that most of the masses paid only a few creds to eat. Beef was up in the hundreds even for a small bite, not that Sol and Leyl couldn’t afford it anyway. Despite the Base Level’s status as a low income district, people still came to Turk’s regularly. Cheap rent helped them save more perhaps. The restaurant was also situated at the second deck, atop an elevated platform some Ten stories from the mirings just below them.<
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