I’d like to say I was woken up by the gunshots outside, but insomnia’s a bitch, so I wasn’t asleep to begin with. I checked the time on my phone just to see how long I’ve been staying up. 4:36 AM. I groaned out subtle curses when I saw that. And like usual when I stay up, I started talking to myself. “Look, I just have to finish this last line of code, then maybe I’ll be able to sleep,” I said, typing something out on my computer. “Screw it! Who gives a damn about this, we can do it when we wake up! … Which at this rate will be 2 PM” I responded. “The guys need this done by tomorr-… this morning. I can’t flake out.” “Next time, let’s just do this at a reasonable time and not start a six-hour coding project at 2 AM!” As I was arguing with myself, I put in the last line. I ran it. Roughly 80-something errors immediately popped up in the corner of my screen. “I give up, they can do the heist later” “You always say that, and they ALWAYS get pissed.” “Then they’ll be pissed again. I don’t care right now, I can FEEL the bags under my eyes.” “Just try to fix it.” “Fine.” I submitted to myself, and got back on the computer right as I was about to lay down in bed.

I managed to finish it about 10 minutes before the guys needed it, with only a few more hiccups. So I called Red-Eye. I face-timed him a few minutes after I was done. I saw my reflection while I heard the ring. I saw my face, my green eyes had dulled since the last time I looked in the mirror, which I typically avoid doing. My pale skin, and hair that I dyed blue a couple of months ago that was starting to fade, shaved on the left side and brushed to the right… messily, it was tangled. I remembered how long it’s been since I brushed my hair. I saw my augmented ears, the cheapest implants I could get, used, and actively falling apart, with antennas poking out. Every once in a while, they tune into some FM radio station in Springfield, or some other poor guy's call. One time they tuned into one of those hotlines lonely people call late at night, you know the ones. I saw my bra on my chest and realized I wasn’t wearing a shirt, so I set my phone down and rushed to my dresser, picked up a shirt, didn’t even look at it, and threw it on… Right as Red picked up the phone.

He had clearly just woken up when he picked up the call, similarly he had noticed that I clearly hadn’t slept. So it’s even, I suppose. Red-Eye is the brains of our little group of misfits. With dark brown skin and curly black hair that’s starting to gray. An implant on his left eye that as his namesake gives off a bright red glow, it’s bulky, and old coming from the 2040s, but he keeps good care of it, so that’s something. His other eye has such a bad cataract that he can’t even see out of it, completely clouded. “Hey, Cat” He said in his husky voice, while looking me up and down. “For all our sakes I’m hoping the bomb ain’t half as tired as you are” he said with a slight chuckle and a cocky grin growing on his face. “Bombs can’t get tired, dumbass.” I said, matching his cockiness. The call was silent for a moment before we both started laughing. “I take it, it’s done, then?” He asked, “Yeah it’ll fry whatever we want to plug it into… well anything besides flesh I guess.” I replied, trying to get a laugh. “Good, meet you there. Make sure you don’t show up without some coffee in your system.” He said, and quickly hung up the phone before I could get another word in.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I put on clothes that fit what I was about to do. An old band shirt, jeans, and my armored jacket. I grabbed my revolver from beside my bed, made sure it was loaded. As I exited my apartment, I was met with a gray sky. I walked down the stairs and the stench of the city hit me. Pollution mainly. And piss. Fermented piss from the alleyways I like to avoid. As I was walking to my car, something cold hit my nose and I noticed, to my own astonishment, it was snowing. I can’t remember the last time it was snowing in Chicago, or even the last time it snowed anywhere.

I got in my car and headed out to the rendezvous point after I picked up a coffee at a local spot. I got to the parking structure next to the police headquarters and met up with Red-Eye, and… apparently Lorenzo, another “integral” piece to our little puzzle. He’s a relatively short, pale guy. His eyes carry the last glimmer of a fairly decent person. A rare breed nowadays and something unbecoming of this profession. He carries himself with the confidence of a much taller man, which barely overshadows his reluctance to be here. “Hello, Cat.” He sighed, trying not to sound bitter. I didn’t respond.

Red ran over the plan; get in as quietly as possible. Plant the “bomb” in the security system to disable the cameras. Book it to the evidence room and steal everything under the name “Penelope Penrose.” Simple enough, I thought. We’ve done worse.

We got ready, checked our guns and gear, and walked down the street to the large state building. It stuck out like a sore thumb, much nicer than the dingy buildings around it. Not too uncommon for the pigs. “Where is Anaheim, anyway?” Lorenzo asked. “No idea, could be-” Red began, as I interrupted, “She’d be too loud for this anyway.” That got a chuckle out of them. We stood outside the door, took a deep breath in… and out. And proceeded through the door.