text: [Themes: sci-fi, socially important]
  
  You arrive at the gates of the Korr, or the Military District. The towering gates that prevent entry are guarded by two Military Borgs. Their faces stoic, blank, cold, and unfeeling. They themselves aren't completely robot, but they might as well be, due to their behavior. Much of the fear surrounding the Military District is the fear of the Borgs, and how efficient they are at killing criminals. They are not known to miss, as the titanium skeleton and plating across their shoulders, is fine tuned to withstand non-military grade weaponry. The symbol of the Korr Federation is on their left shoulder plate, contrasting against the dark fiber cords that run parallel with the titanium, and the almost black plates themselves. The only people that are credited with destroying Borgs are the resistance group known as the Nightingales. Most citizens of Sebinter have no opinion on either the prosecution of the Nightingales, or the destruction of the Borgs. The spirit of apathy runs in most everyone's blood, or in some cases, oil. The Borgs standing before you are ignoring your presence and the gates behind them are shut. On the hologram set into the walls of the Korr, advertises the Korr Federation, "JOIN THE FEDERATION, BE APART OF THE WINNING TEAM AGAINST THOSE WHO SEEK TO ENDANGER THE STABILITY OF OUR SYSTEM." The message displays Military Borgs soldiers marching, with the MARZ 12 pistol in hand, and the Korr Federation symbol behind them, radiating beams of light across the entire panel. You see a booth that has a man inside it. The sign shows, "ENLIST TODAY!" spinning slowly, as if the words were on an invisible ball. In front of you is another booth that grants entry into the Korr, provided that you have an Entry Permit. The overweight man in the entry booth shouts at you in a raspy voice, clearly torn by E-Vapes, and booze. "You got a permit!?" His head is a pile of flesh with two altered eyes and a metal jaw. The cords that run from his neck into his arm, give the appearance of large dark veins popping out of his arm. He is wearing a large light grey cloak that covers his chest, but has no sleeves. The booth covers his lower body, but you can imagine the grossly disproportionate legs that must sustain such weight. Behind you is the downtown Work District.
  
  > RETURN
  You are in the main sector of the Creation District. The reflective glass panes from the tall buildings around you, make the one street seem much larger in size. The people passing know you are an outsider and merely give you a glance, not considering you as one of them. The fashion is the same with all of them: white or sand colored robe, jacket or cloak, minimalistic pants, that seem to contain no pockets, and simple boots, purely for the sake of fashion, decorated with small red straps, and on the arms of every jacket are a red band or two, symbolizing a place in the high type place they believe themselves to be. The road that leads left goes into the Residential sector, at the corner of Work and Creation District. The road going right leads to the warehouses and storage section of Creation District. Behind you is the Military District
  
  > WAREHOUSES
  You walk down the sidewalk, towards the storage sector of Creation District. The amount of people is greatly less than the main area. This is the lesser traveled road by common pedestrians. The white buildings are replaced by sand and eventually grey colored buildings. Much of the air is musty and all Districts have this, except Creation. During the political "clean-up" of three years ago, Creation District put forth every worker to clean and sanitize the entire District. The result caused a massive stroke to the ego of every resident in Creation. This in turn created the social judgements that still remain today, regarding the outlook of everyone else from the view of Creation. The Korr knows of these judgements and has tried to initiate social programs to "bring us together as one". These programs were met with ridicule, low attendance, and more division from the other Districts. In each single District, the residents who live there have their own way of thinking, a mini-culture if you will inside the quadrants of Sebinter. It seems pathetic, all this division and for what? more violence, more crime, and more rebellion, but also more restrictions from the Military District. They want to create the secure city that the Korr visionaries dream of. The Borgs enforce the Korr laws and punish by the rules of the Military. All these recollections of the world end suddenly as you find yourself at the slight open door of a warehouse. You hear rattling inside and banging.
  
  > ENTER
  You partially open the door and poke your head in to see what the noise came from. A shelf of boxes blocks your line of sight. The metal shelves are rusty which could only mean that this particular warehouse has not been in use in a long time. You move around the shelves, and see a bunch of plastic tarp covering the tables, other shelves, and attached to the windows of the small rooms. You see a shadow inside a room, but the actions are undefined.
  
  > EXAMINE
  You move as quiet as you can, hoping that the figure in the room is not alerted to your presence. There is a table up against the room, and it looks like you could fit under there.
  
  > HIDE UNDER TABLE
  You quickly make your way to the table and slide on the cold concrete floor, putting yourself under it. You wait, and hear more rustling, a few clangs and the sounds of boxes being opened. It doesn't seem like the person is going to be leaving anytime soon.
  
  > ENGAGE
  You slide out of from under the table only to greet the sight of a gun barrel pointed at you.
  
  > CONTINUE
  "Don't." The man simply says. His voice soft, purely human, no voice alteration, nor the sight of any augmentation on his body. His cyan hair, is a quiff, and the regrowth of his real color is showing up on the sides in a dark shade. The weapon he is holding looks like a custom build, with a small scope on the top, casting a tiny red light from the center, onto your forehead. His apparel is a purple jacket with silver studs in the padding of the shoulders. His shirt is simple pinstripe white, and seems to be freshly washed, with no imperfections. His pants are actually athletic jogger pants, designed for trainees in the Korr Federation, but these have been recolored to a pattern of royal blue and black stripes. His boots are from the beginning of this year, and were the previous model before the COMboot30 of these two months. "Why were you following me?" He asks, breaking your analysis of him. From his clothing, he seems to be a mercenary, but his voice is taciturn, soft, almost like he rarely speaks.
  
  > DENY
  "I wasn't following you." You say, hearing your own voice in the warehouse is kind of odd, as it sounds much older than you are. The man slides his foot to the right and slides the other in the same direction, moving himself a little. "Why are you here?" He asks. The weapon still aimed at your head.
  
  > EXPLAIN
  "I saw that you were searching for something in here and I was curious, because I've never seen anyone like you in Creation District." He lowers the weapon down. "Fair enough." He looks you up and down, taking note of your apparel and age. His own age must be in the mid twenties at least, but no older than thirty-two. His eyes are somber, older than the rest of his body, and filled with life lived in the fast lane. "Who do you work for?" He finally asks, breaking the silence of your observations.
  
  > DENY INFO
  "I don't see how any of that is your business." You reply, trying to air confidence. He cuts his eyes at you, and asks, "Name?"
  
  > GIVE INFO
  "D4RR1N." You answer his question, making the room seem less cold and strangerlike to you. "RY4N." He nods and speaks softly.
  
  > REQUEST INFO
  "What are you doing?" You ask. He motions for you to follow him into the room he was in. You follow him. Inside the room are a bunch of boxes, each containing files, papers, and logs. RY4N pulls out a file that has the Korr Federation symbol on it in blue ink. "I was hired to extract information about a component developed here." RY4N explains, turning the pages slowly, reading meticulously. "The component is called MR-2. They are trying to perfect it for the Korr, but my employer wants to get the schematics to replicate it." It seems like RY4N doesn't talk much and having somebody to talk with is relaxing him. The file he is holding is a blown up diagram of a chip, that is directed into the brain. Similar to what you have in your head. RY4N grabs a few more files including the Korr file and walks to the door. He stops and looks back at you. "There's some work for you if you want."
  
  Action Music
  
  > ACCEPT
  "Alright. I'll try it out." You answer with a slight smile. He smiles back and says, "I'll give you a ride." His voice is kind and soft, and yet, you can hear him from more than twenty feet away. You walk over to the only entrance and exit it this warehouse. RY4N looks out the crack in the door. His eyes widen. He looks at you. "Shhhh." He puts his finger to his lips. "Mercenaries." He whispers. He pulls out his silver custom built gun and takes a deep breath, his eyes close for the duration of the breath. Then he exits the building. You follow because there is no other exit. Outside are four men and two women. three men and a woman are talking near the dark eight wheeled sedan, and the other two are drinking booze while leaning against their motorcycles. RY4N immediately shoots two people, initiating a firefight. He rushes behind a large dumpster and fires a few more shots. The loud blasts of energy coming from his weapon and theirs reverberates down the streets and in the distance you can hear someone exclaiming in terror. You see a place to hide while they are fighting. It is near the two Mercenaries but they haven't seen you yet.
  
  > HIDE
  You run and duck behind a large crate that is situated next to the two motorcycles, and before you can poke your head out to check the situation, the barrel of a VEX-11 is pressed against your forehead and the trigger is pulled. The energy discharge at point blank range completely explodes your head clean off your shoulders in a gushing, burnt smelling blood bath.