My eyes gaze at the wall which currently is a holographic windowed view of the electronic sunset of New Chicago. The white and orange glow of the street lights slowly flickering on of the top city, along the solar magnifying bent the rays to create the oddest and arguably most beautiful man made sensations. I tried to not pay attention to some of the things I was able to view on the streets outside of the building I occupied, none of my business. My small cubicle felt a bit more trapped as I allowed my window to close and the same wall expanded into a mini bar before me. Not exactly stocked well in the last few months, the latest batch of jobs from this last corporation war put the ice on my kind of business lately.
I wiped my face, tired and distraught, the cuts that refused to heal sting against the stubble on my chin. I feel the bags under my eyes shift and sag as my eyes drifted over to my third wall. It was currently showcasing alternating beautiful art pieces that the viewing rights had been downloaded in as a gift to some former clients. You could say a lot of people have enjoyed my services at one point or another. And yet for some reason I'm never to be able to enjoy my peace and live a social life. I can't exactly make my presence well known to many people, and the people who visit me aren't normally your typical guests.
As far as I can remember my life has been trouble, but I'm not sure if it was always trouble or if it was just because of my time as an Enforcer of the Council. I don't remember much before my days of being the top ultimate warrior of Council. Looking at me now, it would be hard to imagine me being the number one enforcer, their plan A. Not that none of the other enforcers weren't any good, just some of them took their jobs differently...
I shrug off memories and the exhaustion that had slowly set itself in my bones over the years as i slump in a seat at my bar. It's easier to forget and not look back with a shot of New York Stalemate. How the fuck they made 200 proof alcohol that tasted great is beyond me. It's illegal, but laws don't matter much anymore, the council and the brotherhood kind of make any government not matter. They keep the proles happy and working. Technically they still have a say in the government, but nothing that the brotherhood doesn't let through. Technically each of the three corporations that make it up, alongside the council, have their own agenda and things that go against it don't survive long.
I notice my empty jug where my stalemate had been and sigh, but i still chuckle at the thought of The Brotherhood. I pour myself some water, brotherly would be the last thing to call their conduct, even with each other. Not that The Brotherhood was their official name, its just what anyone who knew any better learned to call the three most powerful companies, no: entities, of the world.
I sip the water slowly, my salty mouth soaking it up before it quenches any thirst I have stored deep in my heart. I stare at my art collection until it disappears as my visitor indicator goes off. I get up slowly and turn to where my door is forming against my wall, a holographic window opening up to give me a full view of my visitors. Slightly distracted with putting my drink down as my mini-bar sank into the floor and my desk extended from where my art gallery once was, I allow my automatic quick-scan to lower my guard when it flashes green, as in when it finds no threat, nuetral at best. That's when I finally turn to see who it was at my door and freeze at a sight I would never have thought I would see.
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