ㅤㅤIt was a lucid dream—everything had just gone sideways. I thought about waking up, and when I did, I realized I was living in that nightmare. My eyes fluttered open, the traces of dried tears tight on my cheeks, and a throbbing headache hammering at my skull. 'Stupid,' I muttered inwardly, leaning the back of my head against the wall. Through the pain and haziness, I glanced at the photo, still facedown—exactly where I had left it.

ㅤㅤMy mind started to drift off, thoughts of Alex reminding me that I still had to plan for his funeral. I searched for my earpiece—after yesterday, I had stuffed it somewhere, not caring if anyone would bother to call—until I finally found it in my pocket.

ㅤㅤ"One voicemail, Rookie," it said as I slipped the earpiece into place. "Play it," I muttered, groaning as I forced myself to stand and staggered toward the sink for a glass of water.

ㅤㅤ"Hey... I hope this finds you at a sober time," I heard her stifle a small laugh. Then, her tone shifted to something gentle. "But I'm worried." I noted how obvious it was in her voice.

ㅤㅤ"Oh, and I was thinking, if you're still interested in the latest stock of implants you've been eyeing, I heard they're back in stock—though limited. Lucky for you, I know someone." She fell quiet, and I could almost hear the gears in her brain turning as she searched for something else to say—she was always a little awkward. "Anyway, call me back when..." She began to trail off, and I was just staring absently into space as I listened, before she ended the line with, "It's nothing. Well, see you around, M."

ㅤㅤI found myself standing still, a glass of water in my hand and a mind occupied by countless thoughts. But I shook myself out of it. 'I'll get back to her,' I decided, especially since I was already expecting to be bothered at the new precinct and wouldn't have the time to.

ㅤㅤThen, like before, my memories felt fractured, as if they had cut corners—some parts missing entirely, much like how I suddenly found myself outside my apartment. "M, going out?" I turned to Mrs. Woods. It seemed like she was heading out for a walk, probably to the nearest convenience store, given the small trolley she had in tow. "You don't look so good, dear." She added, when I realized I had spaced out. "I'm fine, Mrs. Woods. Just another day, that's all," I replied, forcing a half-smirk to soften the concern etched on her face.

ㅤㅤ"Huh, 'just another day.' You'd think they'd treat their officers better. You take care of yourself, hear me?" Her tone carried genuine sympathy, and I couldn't help but smile—a tired, worn-out smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Will do," I replied softly. "Your eyes softened—they're prettier that way," she said with a gentle smile of her own, nodding before giving a small wave as she walked away. Her words lingered in my mind, settling like a soft echo before stirring a distant memory. My face softened into a stoic expression—one I could almost picture, as Alex had never failed to point it out whenever he saw it.

ㅤㅤ'You've got that look again, something troubling you?' He never failed to notice, and I never failed to reassure him, even if it meant pretending with a smile I didn't feel. But I didn't want to dwell on the past—at least not now. So I headed for the elevator and forced my thoughts toward the day ahead and what awaited me at the precinct. It was better than the ghost that haunts me.

ㅤㅤThe journey to the precinct was grueling. The train reeked of something foul, its carriages packed with people—a scene all too familiar. But when it pulled into the interchange, the station was a stark contrast—clean, orderly, and worlds apart from the grimy platforms of the district below. 'The line between the filthy rich and dirt poor.' My boots crossed the small gap as the door chimed open, and I disembarked the train. Only a rare few walked alongside me to the other side, toward a different kind of train altogether—crafted to serve the comforts of a privileged few.

ㅤㅤ"You, halt!" a digital voice barked. I stopped and glanced over my shoulder to see a police mechanized droid with its imposing frame approach and block a man—an eyesore among the few who looked well put together, their polished uniforms reflecting their professions, including mine.

ㅤㅤ"What is the nature of your visit?" I turned back around, my eyes fixed on the tracks as I waited for the train, not wanting to get involved. The chill of the season bit through the air, and I buried my gloved hands deeper into the black police bomber jacket I'd been issued, its wool collar shielding my neck from the breeze.

ㅤㅤ"Why do you gotta know? I got money to burn—that's all those rich bastards care about, right? Industrialists' machine pawns!" The slur in his voice and the recklessness of his words made it clear he was under the influence—no one would rant like that here otherwise. I hadn't even realized I'd caught his attention until he turned to me, his voice cutting through the station noise. "Hey, you! The cop! Yeah, you!"

ㅤㅤ"I see you shaking your head over there like what I'm saying is shit. But you know what is shit? It's all of you in your fancy uniforms, slaving away. And guess what? You're still stuck down here with the rest of us! Now that's the real bullshit—and you're all happily swallowing it!" he snapped, his voice dripping with venom, the words burning in the cold air as he ranted on.

ㅤㅤI wanted nothing to do with him—I already had enough on my plate. Ignoring him was an easy decision, but predictable as ever, it only fueled his anger. The police droid sprang into action, detaining him while repeating, 'Calm down,' in its flat, mechanical tone—a command that only seemed to agitate him further. As the train pulled up, I slipped my shades from my pocket and put them on. As I stepped into the train, I turned back briefly, meeting his glare with an expression as impassive as stone. The doors slid shut, cutting off his protests as the droid forced him to the ground. With a faint jolt, the train carried me away, leaving the chaos behind.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

ㅤㅤ"Welcome to the Metro Police Department. Things are different here compared to the City Police Department—you know how it is: same city, different branch," the captain greeted, giving a nod as he gestured for me to walk alongside him through the precinct. "That said, let's be clear. I'm not here to babysit you, though I don't think you need it, with all the news hovering over you like a damn halo. Your partner, on the other hand, will have your back. Head to the firing range to meet him; you're already in a case. He'll fill you in." His voice echoed faintly in the quiet halls as we walked. The place was spotless, yet there was an unsettling emptiness to it, as if we were the only ones there.

ㅤㅤ"This is your workstation. The computer’s connected to the police database network, and that wraps up your tour. Anything else—again—you can ask your partner," he said, gesturing toward the desk. The silence in the precinct was unnerving, so I asked, "Where is everyone?" His expression faltered, as if caught off guard by my question. "Your chief didn’t tell you? That’s... odd," he said, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity. My mind immediately drifted to Bradley—how he’d started making moves behind my back. This was just another one of them. "Whatever. Anyway, this department handles rapid response. You’re with the Special Response Unit, or SRU." He paused briefly, then added, "I’ve got plenty to handle myself, so I’ll leave you to it. You’d best get started as well."

ㅤㅤWhen I was left to my own devices, I took one last look around the vast, empty space filled with tables, chairs, monitors, and stationery destined to gather dust—except for the single occupied station beside mine, most likely my partner’s. With nothing else to do other than get on with the day, I made my way to the firing range, preparing to meet the partner who’d either grate on my nerves or land somewhere between tolerable and infuriating. As I walked through the wide, empty hallways, the sound of my boots echoed—each step reverberating in the silence. Between that and the oppressive stillness, it gnawed at my temper, an irritation I couldn’t shake—until I finally reached the firing range. The muffled crack of gunfire echoed faintly, each shot accompanied by bursts of light escaping from the barrel. I stood behind the protective glass, watching as he consistently hit his mark with impressive precision. When the session ended, the target slid forward, revealing just how sharp his aim truly was.

ㅤㅤ"Impressive shooting," I remarked as the door clicked shut behind me. Stepping into the shooting range felt far better than standing outside, spectating through the glass. The idea of giving it a shot myself was hard to resist. "Well, if you think so. But since it's coming from you, I have no doubt then," he said, setting the gun down on the bench after inspecting it and extending his hand. "I'm Lloyd—your partner and the only other human in this precinct." I shook his hand and met his eyes. "You've heard of me?" I asked, letting go of his hand. "Hard not to. You're something of a legend, and with all the rumors surrounding you—yeah, as I said, hard to miss."

ㅤㅤI hummed as I eyed him, "Alright. Say, regarding about why we're the only ones here, care to fill me in?" He whistled, leaning back. "Here’s what I can tell you. The city council, along with the mayor, just passed a bill cutting down on human officers in law enforcement, replacing them with more of those metal ones instead. It won't happen overnight, but by the end of the week, you can bet that everyone in your old precinct will either be out of a job or transferred here—if they're lucky, or if they’ve got the right connections."

ㅤㅤ"Hey, there's no need for you to give me the stinky eyes. You’ve got connections, I’ve got mine. And it seems like your connections want you around whether you like it or not. Want to tell me who they are?" He was clearly enjoying pushing my buttons, and I was more than tempted to break his jaw. "By the way, the captain mentioned you’d fill me in on the case we’ll be working on. How about we shift focus to that?" I steered the conversation away, and he shrugged, complying as we left the shooting range and made our way back to our workstation.

ㅤㅤ"Straight to it, huh? Alright. Victim's a corpo exec. No ID yet, but the scene... let's just say it's far from your average break-in. Something feels off. You'll see for yourself." He flicked a holo-disc my way. "Briefing's on there. Read it while I drive us over. They're expecting us—or maybe not." I narrowed my eyes at him, confusion turning into irritation. "Wait, are you seriously telling me no one's been questioned yet?!" My voice rose, fueled by the kind of frustration only incompetence can ignite. He shrugged, entirely unbothered. "What can I say? Yesterday, this precinct didn't even have human officers. So, when the call came in, all they sent were a bunch of empty-headed metal drones. Not exactly great for questioning, are they?" I let out a long, exasperated sigh, the weight of this mess sinking in as I pieced together the details.

ㅤㅤ"But it looks like before we head out, someone's here for you." We came to a stop, my gaze lingering on him until he nodded toward a figure nearby. 'Rook.'