text: [Themes: sci-fi, science fiction, humor]
  
  You shrug your tired shoulders as you slowly enter into the antigravity duct, take impulse and then sliding down at full speed, while you consult your holo clock; Normal people have the neurochip, an implant that allows them to mentally enter the network with all their senses into an alternative reality.
  
  But you are not like them. No, you have been considered unworthy garbage. Condemned to work in manual labour, in this fully robotized and powered society; there is only one reason for humans doing these bodily tasks. A punishment, for not being born with a power deemed worthy.
  You finally are inside the station and are able to get rid of the nasty helmet. The service and maintenance area of the station is another world compared to the public luxury sumptuous halls full of gold and silk. Plants from all known universes and the worlds created by the winning heroes of the Murder dome. You live in Divinity. The biggest Space City in the entire Galaxy placed in a stable orbit around your home planet. 25 independent neighbourhoods each their own space station linked by an immense network of spaceships and teleportation for people who can afford it. Unfortunately, that is not your case or that of anyone in your social class.
  
  You take a compressed air shower feeling like the perfumed steam cleans you and nicely massages your tired skin. In a few seconds, you put on your tight jeans and faux leather jacket, all grey, as that is the only colour allowed for people from your class.
  
  "Hey, Macporridge, do you feel like taking some Slimmiers?" You know that voice it belongs to Scraps, a big gentle muscular guy, but deep down he is a teddy bear.
  
  You turn around, and he is looking at you smiling with his rosy face like a giant baby.
  
  Slimemold-Hippie Lambic, better known as Slimmiers, it is the pseudo beer consumed by undesirable citizens, which it is made from Slime slugs, a giant mutant slug which feeds on nuclear waste and trash; it's not real beer, but you've never tried a real one.
  
  > say "I have a lot to do at home, sadly."
  Home, sweet home.
  
  You think as you enter the decrepit and dark place that is the mega building in which your apartment is housed. 20,000 people are overcrowded in this huge metal and steel glass building. Unlike the citizens' class neighbourhoods, where everything is clean and full of vegetation. The pit is the worst of the worst. Where people without a future come to die.
  
  Strolling through the immense security door of steel and graphene. You remind yourself that you are at least lucky and you live in the protected area when you have a job.
  
  You run to the elevator so you don't have to deal with those huge mutant rats that run around the common areas of the building at night. At least the poorest live by hunting them.
  
  The elevator rattles showing holographic advertisements of bright colours and wonders. Things you will never be able to do or try.
  
  This life is fucking shit.
  
  The apartment you live in is your only luxury 40 meters with only the bathroom as a separate room from the rest of the loft. everything shines polished with that comforting smell of bleach and air freshener pine smell.
  
  The holo mandatory screens in the house turn on automatically, there is nothing you can do since they are controlled by the government that sells them as a gift to the undesirable, free holo television for everyone. Rather propaganda for all your growls for yourself while taking a look at what you have in the fridge.
  
  "Shit!" It is as empty as your bank account.
  
  "Avina, Tell me my credits account numbers." You say addressing the virtual robot in your home.
  
  "300 credits, Master"
  
  Unfortunately, you haven't enough money for an authentic humanoid robot which can serve you in all your needs. You only have Avina's hologram model, an old lady with a grumpy look and a galactic lingerie catalogue for your own self-service.
  
  "Could my life be more pathetic?" Your comment on loud baffled, without even realizing it.
  
  "Hardly, master," Avina adds in her damn computer tone, sometimes it seems like she's making fun of you. But that is impossible as that behaviour module is more expensive than your entire floor.
  
  300 credits, there are not many things that you can buy with 300 credits, but your stomach roars, so you throw yourself into the holo computer online shop while trying to see if the damn event of the new world creator has finished or not; as they won't broadcast the Mopper bob's marathon until the entire ceremony finishes.
  
  "When the damn ceremony is over?!" You say frustrated to see another win the category of God and win their own world to create, while you live in poverty.
  
  > buy food online
  There are so many options, a lot of holograms jumped offering you all the wonders that the Empire offers to the authentic citizens of Reah. From juicy and shiny golden grapes of the Derek System, to the largest army of ultra-realistic earrings or robots designed to fulfill even the minimum wishes of his master.
  
  Cybernetics implants that turns the unpowered almost in heroes for a brief period of time.
  
  You cannot avoid sighing away all those wonders and dreams of beautiful villas, bright aircraft and wonderful intergalactic cruises full of action.
  
  All these are empty fantasies for you, you get up a minute from your chair to drink a glass of water of acrid flavour and suspicious colour. There is not really good water in the sewer station and a soda is really worth the same as a meal. Only the fake Slimemold-Hippie Lambic beer, better known as Slimmiers, is cheaper enough to be consumed by undesirable citizens.
  
  it is made from Slime slugs, a giant mutant slug which feeds on nuclear waste and trash; it's not real beer, but you've never tried a real one. Probably, you have never tried a natural food, or banned for your breed or directly more expensive than you can afford.
  
  The maximum limit for a meal at home for your breed is 15 credits. Although in public places there is no limit, if in what you can have in your home; after entering the net directly, all the lights and ads die showing only a small phrase that summarizes what is your life.
  
  REASON: Being a undiserable garbaje caste member.
  
  You look sad at the cold black truth of what is allowed for you, and you can't even afford half of the list after 10 hours of hard work.
  
  > want something slightly fancier than Swamp. You will buy Porkies and a Slug-cola.
  Porkies are cereals made with transgenic algae and cloned pig remains. There is a 0.1% of real meat on them, far more than anything else that you are allowed to eat.
  
  They have to be hydrated with water until they become a spicy soup. You choose your favourite which tries to imitate miso ramen, that makes exactly 15 credits with a cold Slug cola Pickle flavour, your favourite.
  
  You wait one minute, as your food is teleported directly to your kitchen counter.
  
  > Watching the ceremony while you eat
  You are ready to watch the game final event of the murderball, after eating up your dinner and drink your cold beverage, nothing like dining to be in a better mood.
  
  The stadium looks beautifully in the holograms, shining as if it were The sixth moon in orbit to the planet reah. All beautiful, happy and luxurious full of young people wearing bright colours screaming excited with one voice:
  
  The final round has just begun where the famous heroes will fight to achieve the Godhood and the right of creating their own planet and their eternal life in the process.
  
  > keep watching the Murderbowl finale.
  5 heroes stand on the immense battlefield flooded in corpses traps and mazes. The effects of the thousands of magical attacks and blasters give the scene of the murderbowl a sublimely grotesque air in its mix between beautiful scenes full of blood and viscera for the fervent fans of the entire empire. Only 5 of the 555 that began a Month this season's league, they continue standing proud at the start of the second round.
  
  Even you know them at five. Probably the best-known heroes in the last 40 years have finally reached maturity to face this special issue of the murderbowl.
  A ray of light falls on the stadium like a meteor breaking majestically in front of the cameras. Mizal and Adolfo Sombrero his silver with wings of giant rainbow butterflies shining in all directions like a bright neon while The public chants his name Mizal.
  
  You jump from the chair to cheer her up unconsciously. She is your favourite priestess' dancer, daughter of a previous winner of the murderbowl Now a God known as The Necromancer.
  
  A standing ovation sounds as soon as the beautiful elf gets off her mount and walk through the stadium. Mizal moves seductively, whirling her curvaceous hips while her Mithril Armor bikini leaves very little to the vivid imagination of all her army of fans. The famous hero often forces to fight others twisting their minds, as she is famous for seducing and enthralling the mind of her listeners, causing them to eliminate each other, often in gruesome ways.
  
  Strangely, The second classified is Adolfo Sombrero, her slave dragon, a man who was cursed to become her dragon and Mizal uses it as a slave mount.
  
  The other three finalists are twins werewolves one a two handed warrior other an archer and yes, the las is is a mage. The teens love them as they are Popular pop culture singers with their group Ov-vO.
  
  The holo net is putting its horrible songs over and over again making you sick:
  
  The blonde werewolves greet their fans by throwing roses at them ...
  
  You go away from the TV for a while, anxious that the combat ends at once. When you return from the bathroom with your lingerie catalogue the fight has already begun. The three blond twins are transformed into enormous white werewolves, big as elephants, growling in a bloody frenzy as Mizal flies over the battlefield.
  
  Her butterfly winged sparkling dragon bombards the werewolves team with an intense fire of rainbow energy balls. Their mage casts a mighty energy shield filling the ground around them in a purple halo of dark energy.
  The combat ebbs and flows in a mythical spectacle of magic, steel, claws and teeth for the amusement of the public euphoria that crowds the immense capacity in millions.
  
  Mizal finally comes down from her dragon screaming: "The fight ends now," and begins to seductively move his generous inviting hips dancing to the beat of his warm soprano voice while the miniskirt of her mithril armour makes a pleasant hiss like a rattle. The sheer vision of her sensual dance makes the public melt in their seats.
  
  The other fighters struggle to resist and keep fighting coordinately; however, like everyone else, they end up mesmerized by the sweet dance of her haunches.
  
  "Fight, fight in my name, pieces of shit!" She roars triumphantly.
  
  One by one, they killed each other following the rhythm of her beat.
  
  In the end, Adolfo Sombrero lies almost bled out with his butterfly wings shattered on the burned ground of the stadium. He is the only thing that separates Mizal from becoming a goddess and he knows it; desperate he raises his eyes to glimpse her grabbing the huge werewolf's axe.
  
  "Why?" the glittering dragon cries slowly.
  
  "I don't like bright colours and you're on my way. I'd say it's nothing personal, but I'd be lying. I'm going to enjoy this." Mizal comments smilingly before wielding the axe again and again until the glittery Dragon's head break away from the huge body spreading its multicoloured blood over the elf that shouts thrilled by her victory. She has made it.
  
  You suddenly hear the alert of your Holographic private messages. That's weird. It is only used for businesses or Imperial organizations as public can't use it.
  
  > The mysterious message
  How weird! something is not right, you think as you let the new goddess begin her ceremony and open the message.
  
  A job offer of that level for someone without citizenship is a utopia. Whatever it is, it can't be legal.
  
  But, still... 4 times my salary and the bonuses associated with working in a Mega corporation. That includes going to live at one of the corporate space stations; simply the fact of thinking about that fills you with hope. Maybe, you can have a big flat and eat organic food, you might even try a fresh orange... Your mind dreams wake up for a while, if it's true, it's your only chance to get out of this manure
  
  But, still... 4 times my salary and the bonuses associated with working in a Mega corporation. That includes going to live at one of the corporate space stations; Just thinking about it, it fills you with hope, a big flat and organic food, you might even try a fresh orange... Your mind daydreams for a while, if this job offer is true, it's your only chance to get out of this shitty place
  
  If it's real... That's the question; you don't know. You sigh looking at the walls of your decrepit windowless apartment, you keep it clean, but you cannot work miracles in this sordid den.
  Absolute poverty reigns in this wretched neighbourhood where the soundtrack of gangs firearms fiercely rattle all day long.
  
  "I have nothing to lose," you say looking back at the message with renewed hope; Actually, this may be your golden ticket outside the septic tank.
  
  > say "I don't trust this proposal."
  You reject the offer to be too risky and your life follows the same monotony as always. You work every day from 7 to 5 pm, take the usual shuttle, eat the same in the same shitty flat, day after day.
  
  No way out, no hope. You just go through decades of boredom, until your demise makes you end as everyone else in the undesirable caste, recycled in a Swamp ration.