Andrés jacks into his augmented reality glasses, seeking stimulation. Paired with a neural implant, the tech has replaced cyberdecks. Few choombas sporting this chrome, and some might take Andrés, with his slick and sharp looks, for a netrunner. His style is like an evolved character from "Revenge of the nerds. Those without the ware might be hiding optic camouflage contact lenses. Swiping through the feed on his deck during lunch is a regular thing for him. He likes checking out articles on ripperdocs and family.

Three metallic clangs reverberate at the steel hatch. "You've been in the head for 10 minutes straight! I want to interface with you." The unmistakable gruff voice is Ricardo's. A mix of endurance and unhappiness comes through clear. The Independent Netzine employs Andrés in its editorial division. He exits the bathroom, acting surprised. He wipes his hands on his pants and readjusts his glasses and styled hair. Next, we detect the constant hiss of the brewer. It sounds like a cat's piss hitting a sofa. It was Ricardo pouring two small cups, one for each of them. Those wage slaves in the hallway opposite the head. With determination, Andrés steadies his breathing and makes a quick stride forward.

"Got a minute, choom?" Ricardo asked, his chrome-plated optics reflecting the harsh LEDs overhead.

"What's up?" Andrés leaned back in his fraying chair, raising an augmented eyebrow.

"Grab yourself a stim," Ricardo said, nudging over a small cup of synthesized caffeine.

"Hard pass. Tweak makes me glitch."

"Right, right. Gotta respect a virtuous worker." Ricardo's face relaxed into a robotic smile. "Corps value responsibility."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"So what's the deal?" Andrés asked, drumming his cyber fingers on the metal desk.

"We treat all our wageslaves well here."

"No complaints."

"But I got some. Anyone looking for you just needs to hit the head."

Andrés' optics widened.

"Once in the AM cycle, once at fuel break, once after." Ricardo scratched his chrome cranial plating.

"And don't forget once at clock-in, again at clock-out."

"I have issues with peeing myself."

"That's a lot of splash time for a bladder issue." Ricardo's brow furrowed.

"What can I say choom, sometimes I get distracted scanning the darknet feeds while draining the lizard."

"That's drek. You sit down to take a leak?"

"It's for a good cause! I'm mining for news nuggets."

"Like I said, we treat our workers chrome here. But everyone's got to punch the clock."

"Right! I just combined my breaks is all!"

"Section 42 of the Corporate Constitution says every wageies should feel cozy without disrupting standardization.'"

"But Section 41 says: 'Productivity before leisure.'”

"Weak synth-sauce argument. That line's about spacing out on the job."

"Trust me choom, when I'm on the clock, I outhustle any widget pusher here."

"Speaking of that choom..."

"What?"

"You're not an intern."

"Whoops! Did I miss a deadline?"

"Try getting your facts straight for once. Quit dropping the ball."