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.

“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?”

“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. “

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.  

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