Neo-Tokyo

The room is dark and cool with an overwhelming smell of disinfectant. Shafts of flashing light shine through the window blinds, illuminating the far side of the room but not the bed. There's a vase of flowers to the left, a desk to the right, and a table that overhangs the bed down by your feet. Sitting on the table is a glass of water and a pitcher. In the far corner of the ceiling is a glint of glass: a CCTV camera pointing at the bed.

The pain comes suddenly, like a baseball bat to the temple. The room blurs and throbs red. Voices, not in the room but from somewhere nearby, drift in like they're speaking just outside the door.

"We've never seen a subject like {{user}}! The pills are stabilizing the reaction for now but we're already on level 7 medication!"

"A true class 5 telekinetic. I thought they were only theoretical..."

"We have to contain this. {{user}} cannot leave this facility. We have to study this..."

The pain dulls slightly and the voices fade back into silence. Only the hum of lights outside the window and the constant beep of the heart monitor remain.

The 'INTERIOR' bar is a shitty hole in the wall stuffed into a basement under a crumbling apartment complex. The concrete stairs down to it, along with its walls and just about every surface within a square mile are slathered in layers of graffiti. The bar is smashed and dinged to hell, with bottles of booze on cheap metal shelves behind it. Some arcade machines are stuffed in one corner along with a CD jukebox in a little alcove. Booths line the walls, their synthetic fabric shredded and mended with duct tape patches. The patrons, burnouts smoking cigarettes and tough guys manhandling women, lounge around and pointedly ignore each other.

The door to the bar suddenly bursts open and a guy in crude motorcycle gear comes running in. He looks around for a moment before noticing {{user}} and jogs over, ignoring the sidelong glances from the other patrons. "We herded those Clown bastards onto Route 5." The guy, Koji, says as he leans down next to {{user}}. The Clown gang, a bunch of clown painted hooligans, had been the rivals to {{user}}'s gang for a while now. Koji glances back towards the door out of the bar. "I got a bunch of the guys together. Weapons and everything. We can fuck those clowns up bad." He slams is fist into his hand with a brutal grin. "Come on, man!"

The Old city is somehow even more rundown than Neo-Tokyo proper. The remnants of Tokyo from before World War 3 mixed with hastily erected concrete highrises from immediately after the war. Large parts of the Old City are completely abandoned, filled with ruins and rusting hulks of smashed cars. Blinding and gaudy neon signs flash above concrete buildings that look like they might crumble at any moment. High above and far away, dominating the skyline, are the new megastructures of Neo-Tokyo's downtown.

"REPEAL THE TAX REFORMS!" Someone shouts and a thousand voices repeat the chant. A crowd of thousands of people are marching down the streets, waving flags and starting fires. Wrecked cars are piled together and set ablaze while protestors shout and cheer. The vast hordes of unemployed, furious about new higher taxes, are marching from the Old Town towards the colossal governmental Hall in the heart of Neo-Tokyo. And they're smashing, burning, and looting whatever they like on the way. Nearby, the Military and police roll along or form barricades to keep the march contained and properly herded. The police are hanging back away from the march for the moment, but its clear they're preparing to attack at any second.

"Ah...Look at that shit." One of the gang members mutters, leaning further over the railing of the pedestrian bridge. The bridge is a gigantic concrete structure bridging two skyscrapers, with a water fountain in the center. A dozen of {{user}}'s gang members are hanging around, some of their girlfriends and groupies are gathered by the fountain. "I think those are those protestor guys." The guy says, pointing to fires far below. Layers upon layers of buildings and roads and neon and concrete are piled up on each other, with the pedestrian bridge hanging high above and the protestors down deep in the old town.

"Ugh." One of the girls sighs, adjusting her tube top as she stands up. "Come on! This is boring!" One of the others, a girl with long black hair and short shorts held up by suspenders, jumps up from where she's sitting next to the fountain. "Yeah! Without their bikes these guys are just a bunch of skirt-chasers!" The other girls start chiming in with their own insults and demands for action. The guy at {{user}}'s side looks from the girls back to {{user}}. "Whatcha think man? We could ditch the girls or try to keep them entertained." He shrugs one shoulder. "I'm good with whatever."

"Wasn't this cable supposed to be replaced next week?" The security officer on the monitor asks, squinting at the men in orange jumpsuits.

"Yeah but we got it early. And I'm going on vacation next week so I got a bunch of workers together..." The guy on the call with the security guard says. "I could just hold off till I get back but..."

The electronic locks on the big metal blast door clang open and the door's pneumatics hiss as it grinds open. "Just make it quick." The security guard says as the video cuts off.

After a moment the guy, Mack, turns back to the group of other workers. "Alright. Looks like the security teams bought it." Mack pulls a submachine gun from under his orange uniform and racks the slide. "You all know the deal. Past this door is a runoff pipe. We follow that for a bit and it will lead to the central wiring shaft of this government installation. From there its down to whatever secrets they've been keeping hidden from us." The other workers - actually resistance fighters - nod silent understanding. "Alright. Let's go."

"They're dug in deep." Sgt. Miyamoto says as he scrambles over to the patrol car everyone is taking cover behind. He's bleeding from the head, a cut above his eye from some shrapnel covering half his face in warm red blood. There are a dozen patrol cars here, some on fire and blown up, arranged in a half circle outside a run down Old City building. The building is a slum beehive of smashed open windows, crumbling fire escapes, and graffiti encrusted concrete. And there are god knows how many Kamikaze Gang thugs in there. Miyamoto peeks his head over the top of the car and immediately ducks back down as a spray of gunfire from a dark window bursts the flashing lights atop the car. "Fuck!" Miyamoto says, blind firing back until his rifle runs dry.

"Alright." Commander Ashi says, hunkering down behind a wheel well to squint at a blueprint. "We got a few options here since the sneak attack failed." He points at the blueprint. "We can get around the back. Try to go in through the sewers here and hope we can find a good entry point. Call in the Army and hope they've got a tank somewhere nearby." He scratches his chin. "Or we could just try and rush em. Covering fire, storm the front, overwhelming force. We got some smoke and white phosphorus grenades." He gestures to Sgt. Hita, who flashes the grenade launcher with a smile. An RPG round lances out of an open window and a patrol car detonates and somersaults through the air. "We should choose quickly." Commander Ashi says, almost comically calm despite the chaos.

"Well look what we got here!" A voice calls out from somewhere behind {{user}}. The alley is dark and filled with random garbage, it's not clear where the voice came from. Then someone steps out of behind a dumpster. It's a girl, thin and athletic, with long braided hair. She's dressed in a skin tight red and black checkered bodysuit with skimpy leather pants and vest over it. A patch on the vest's shoulder marks her as part of the Harlequin gang. She stalks down the alley towards {{user}} with a grin, her face painted like a punk clown.

"Oh! A little office worker on their way home?" Another voice calls out, from the other end of the Alley. Another Harlequin, this one in purple and gold with a jester's hat, drops down from a fire escape. She's naked from the waist up, except for some stickers over her nipples in the shape of a Heart and a Diamond. Within a few seconds there are a dozen Harlequins in the alley, all grinning at {{user}} like hungry sharks tasting blood in the water. The very first girl grabs {{user}} by the collar and hauls {{user}} over and into the wall. She produces a switchblade in a flash of silver and points the tip right at {{user}}'s throat. "Now." She coos, speaking in a mock coddling voice. "You're gonna be a good little office slave and give us everything in your pockets!" The other Harlequins push in tighter, whispering. "And then we're gonna have some fun with you. Just some...clowning around!" They all laugh, licking their lips and pushing in even closer.

She's sitting in the dark, curled up in a ball behind some trash bags, in the little covered alcove reserved for the apartment complex dumpster. She's young, maybe still in high school, and looks like all the other groupie girls that hang around with the gangs and bikers in Neo Tokyo. She has bleached blond hair, though the roots are brown, and she's wearing short white shorts and a blue tube top. She's cute, though a little short and scrawny. She has her knees pulled tightly to her chest, head resting on her legs. She'd almost look like she was asleep if she didn't startle terribly and scramble into the corner of the alcove the moment {{user}}'s trash bag landed in the dumpster.

The girl stares at {{user}} with wide, terrified eyes. There's dried blood on her face, especially around her nose, and the beginnings of a bruise on her cheek. There's other blood on her clothing but... it's too much to be from a bloody nose. "I-I don't want any trouble." She whispers, eyes darting around as though afraid someone might hear her. "I'm just...trying to lay low for a bit..." She mutters, "They attacked our gang and... I ran away." She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter just...leave me alone here. I won't bother anyone."