Entering the Commons was like walking into a different world. From the stone and wood of the Slums to the steel and alloy of the Commons. While a three story building was large in the Slums, in the Commons Skyscrapers dominated the landscape. The city was lit up like the stars in the sky, forever shedding its light upon the world. Streams of air-traffic constantly hovered in the sky, the flying vehicles the common means of transportation. Screen showcasing the latest news covered the entire sides of buildings, and a second and third set of highways were built on top of each other, giving access to higher parts of the multi-layered city. Several hyper-train rails snaked throughout the city on every level, offering a form of public transportation to the populace. The smaller buildings, though dominated by the massive skyscrapers, were no less impressive. Most were several stories high, and outfitted with landings for vehicles.

The entrance booth to the city was located on the third and highest level of the city. When he stepped through the exit terminal and onto a glass balcony overlooking the city, the first of the sounds hit him. The shouts of men, the whir of electronics, the constant hum of the aircraft, the near robotic voice of the talk show host speaking the latest news to the populace. Typhos simply stood there for a moment, taking it in. He had avoided inner cities since humans began to become technologically advanced. He was used to the old way of doing things. He hadn't even owned a communicator while he lived in the Slums, instead choosing to do his business face to face. 10,000 years of habits was hard to break, but it seemed he would have to start now. At least, the technology habits. Heading to the bank machine next to the aircraft terminal, he withdrew a sum of 3000 Vin. Things would be more expensive in the Commons, and he would need the cash for what he had planned. If he was going to make some life changes, to fit in and disappear again, he might as well change some other things.

Money in hand, he made his way to the aircraft terminal and waited for a taxi to arrive. When he waved the taxi down, the driver looked at him strangely. Typhos opened the passenger door of the two seater and got inside.

"Take me to the nearest bar."

"That'll be 30 Vin." The driver responded.

Typhos handed the money over and leaned back in his seat. The taxi was completely controlled by technology, all the driver had to do was input the coordinates into the digital display and the car did the rest. Typhos wasn't sure why they didn't just get rid of the drivers all together and put in a failsafe to ensure nothing was stolen, but it might have to do with loss of jobs. The taxi pulled away from the terminal, its engines whirring as it accelerated. The car was designed to be a compact machine capable of flight. The body of the vehicle looked like a much more advanced version of the transport vehicles from the Slums. Engines were visible at the back, and the body was rectangular in shape. The roof was curved like an oval dome, and the hood of the vehicle was cone shaped. Just behind the passenger and driver doors was a set of delta wings. The entire car was made of a silver alloy, and the glass windows were tinted black.

The actual insides of the vehicle were very small, with most of the back space being designated to the electronics that ran the car. The seats were made of a rich, comfortable leather, and the dashboard was made of the same silver alloy as the rest of the vehicle. The only visible controls were an emergency brake, emergency landing controls, and a digital screen in which the coordinates would be placed. If the digital controls failed, the driver would be able to take over and steer the car to safety with the power of an emergency battery. However, cases in which the electronics failed were few and far between, with only about 2 incidents a year. The inside of the vehicle was also sound proof, allowing the passenger and driver to enjoy a quiet, peaceful ride to their destination. Thirty minutes later, according to clock in the bottom right of the digital screen, the vehicle came to a stop.

"The bar is just one building to your left after you exit the aircraft terminal." The driver said.

Thanking the driver, Typhos exited the vehicle and stepped onto the a glass platform connecting him to an aircraft terminal. The upper levels of the city were much smaller than the lower levels, consisting of just the higher floors of the skyscrapers. Small walkways, outside of the major highways, made walking between different establishments possible. Exiting the terminal and stepping onto one such walkway, Typhos made his way to the bar. It was positioned on the upper levels of a oddly shaped skyscraper. One side of the triangular building curved outward while the other two were perfectly straight, giving the building a slight raindrop shape.

The doors to the bar opened automatically as he approached, beckoning him to partake of the pleasures it had to offer. The bar was much more high class than what he was used to. It made sense, he guessed, since the people got richer the higher you went in the Commons. Nude women danced seducingly, attempting to woo customers into giving up their money. Ignoring the women that tried to gain his attention, Tyhos headed straight to one of the many bars positioned around the establishment.

"I'll take two of whatever your strongest rum is." He said as he sat down.

"Right away, sir." The bartender said, pirouetting and walking directly to a bottle positioned on what he guessed was the premium rack. The man then grabbed two glasses, bigger than shot glasses but still far to small, and poured the liquid into them. He then replaced the bottle and returned to Typhos.

"That will put your current bill at 2,000 Vin, sir. If you want to pay digitally, you can use the screen to your left to withdraw funds directly from your bank account, or swipe your card on the scanner beside the screen."

Typhos's eyes widened slightly at the total, but he nodded his head and took a drink. The alcohol, he had to admit, was fantastic. Six drinks later he was already feeling a bit tipsy, which was unusual since he had a resistance to alcohol. Slightly pleased he had found a way to knock himself out quickly, he ordered more drinks until everything began to fade. Just as he was about to collapse, the bartender stepped near him and placed something against his mouth. Instantly he was awake, gasping for air.

"I am sorry, sir, but I cannot allow you to pass out on the premises. It is bad for business and also makes it impossible for you to pay. If you wish to drink till you collapse, you can buy some bottles from us and do it at home."

"No need for that, what's the bill." Typhos responded, slightly annoyed. The bartenders eyes unfocused for a moment before locking back onto him.

"You bill is currently 16,000 Vin. 11,000 for the drinks and 5,000 for the awakening agent."

Grumbling something about rich scumbags, Typhos moved to the screen that was embedded in the table on his left. He stared blankly at the screen, having no idea what to do. Two small boxes were on the screen, one labeled NAME and the other PASSWORD. He knew what his name was, but what was his password? He had never had to use a password at the banks in the Slums. All he had to do was say his name and the clerk would put it into the database. If his face matched the one that popped up on the screen, the clerk would give him his money. He turned the bartender, confused.

"I have no idea what my password is. I have never had to use it before."

"If you do not know your password, you can use your fingerprints to access your account. Simply place the fingers of your left hand on the bottom of the screen after inputting your name."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Typhos complied with the commands, entering his real name into the NAME field. He had actually never used his real name when accessing the bank before, always using a fake one and shifting banks whenever he made a withdrawal. If he had used his real name for all of his accounts, or placed all his money into one account, than he would have been robbed by the clerk the moment he or she saw the totals. This time was different, however. The account under the name Typhos Dillian was the only one with over 5,000 Vin in it. It housed 100,000 Vin, and was his backup in case of an emergency. Second, he placed the fingers of his left hand on the bottom of the screen, just as the bartender had told him.

*Scanning

*Error: fingerprints do not match account name

*Error: fingerprints not found in interpol system, please standby while other systems are searched...

*Error: fingerprints not found in any accessible database, account cannot be accessed. Please find the nearest bank to access your account in person

Typhos stared at the screen, then closed his eyes as he realized the problem. He had never allowed himself to be scanned or put into a database. His birth record was long destroyed before databases were even a thing, and he had avoided getting his prints scanned anytime after. Of course, his face was in the database. That was how the cameras had identified him after he first killed the Ouroboros member outside Xavier's Bar. Frankly, it amazed him that the police had never tried to run his prints while he was in jail. Perhaps it was because he had never been in prison for more than 5 days. They never saw a reason to confirm the identity of an alcoholic who came across innocent in all his cases. He looked up at the bartender, an innocent expression on his face.

"It seems that the system has failed. Is it possible to reserve my tab? I assure you I will come back and pay it in cash."

"That is possible, though it will, uh, incur a 50% tax." He said, a confused expression on his face.

"I'll do that then. I'll be back with the money." Typhos said before he turned and hurriedly exited.

Just as he had left, the bartender moved over to the screen, looking at the still blinking error message. His eyes narrowed for a moment before he pressed a small "x" in the top right of the screen. Turning away, he returned to his duties as if nothing strange had happened.

-----------------------------

Typhos walked as quickly as he could through the walkways, trying to find his way to a bank. He needed to make the withdrawal and return as quickly as possible. Perhaps he could bribe the bartender to keep it a secret, if the man had even seen what was on the screen. Over an hour later, Typhos finally decided to ask for help. He slowed down until he was walking beside another pedestrian, a flamboyant looking girl in a stunning dress.

"Hey, uh, could you direct me to the nearest bank, I need to make a withdrawal." He said hesitantly.

The girl glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you need to do that. Can't you just use a card?"

"I don't have a card, actually. I'm new in the Commons."

"Oh, well, the nearest bank is three buildings that way. I recommend you also get a card and a chip from them. The card can be used to pay for things without you doing anything besides signing, and the chip, they implant it in the base of your neck, lets you pull up map and lots of other useful things in your head, kind of like the system but so much more useful." She said in one big splurge, talking far to quickly.

Typhos thanked and and moved toward the bank. He thought he would skip out on the chip. He didn't like the idea of having a foreign entity inside of him, even if it was just a computer. He knew enough to know computers could be hacked, and he would never be controlled by someone else again. In fact, he would kill himself before he would be controlled again. Well, if he could kill himself. You see, that was something he had already tried before. It seemed his immortality did not allow him to take his own life. He tried hanging himself, stabbing himself, decapitating himself, blowing himself up, bleeding himself to death, drowning himself, and even jumping to his death. Every time he tried, he always survived. Wounds he should never have been able to recover from healed instantly and air filled his lungs underwater. This was another part of the curse. He could never end himself. He had to wait until someone was strong enough to kill him and take the curse for themselves, just as he had done 10,000 years ago.

Pushing the thoughts of control out of his mind, Typhos finally found the bank. When he entered, he was greeted by a a glass wall with a small slit in it. Behind the glass he could see a male clerk typing away at his computer. The man turned to Typhos, a smile on his face.

"Welcome to Commerce Bank, how can I help you today?"

"I would like to register for a card and make some withdrawals."

"Perfect! Let's do the card first. Would you like it to be face recognition or fingerprint recognition?"

"Face recognition."

"Alrighty then, please bring your face close to the glass just above the slit so I can scan your face."

Doing as he was told, Typhos was slightly surprised to see the the glass begin to glow. A light shone from it, running up and down his face, scanning it perfectly.

"Thank you, the card is now designated to your face. When you swipe it, you will need to allow the terminal to scan your face as confirmation of purchase." The clerk said as he pulled a card out of slot in his computer and handed it to Typhos through the break in the glass. Taking the card, Typhos inspected it. It was made of stainless steel and completely blank and smooth, save for a small series of bumps along one edge. Typhos assumed this was where you scanned the card. The clerk cleared his throat, interrupting his thoughts.

"You also said you wanted to make a withdrawal, yes?"

"Yes, 30,000 Vin from the account under Typhos Dillian."

"Alrighty, I will make the withdrawal immediately." The clerk said as he pushed a few buttons on his holographic keyboard. Typhos heard a small hiss, and a compartment beside his computer that was attached to a shoot that went into ceiling opened to reveal a neat stack of bills. The clerk grabbed the stack and pushed it through the glass. Typhos inspected the stack, ensuring that it was thirty 1,000 Vin bills. He turned to leave before he stopped and faced the clerk again.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"James Smith." The clerk replied shortly.

"How much would it take for you to do a bit of...extra work?" He said, leaning casually against the glass, looking at James. The man turned to face him, a look of surprise on his face.

"Are you...bribing me? You do realize there are cameras"

"Camera footage can be erased. How much?"

"Well..." James said, coming closer to Typhos and lowering his voice, "what is it I'm doing?"

"Transferring money from several accounts under different names to mine. I assure you they are all my accounts, I just don't like to keep my money in one place."

James nodded vigorously, as if he understood. Then, he looked at the ceiling as if debating something. Finally, he nodded to himself, coming to a decision. He leaned toward the glass again, his voice almost impossible to hear.

"1 million Vin."

"Done, you can make the move to our own accounts when you are transferring the money." Typhos said, glad his bribery had succeeded. He wouldn't move all his money, just a small percentage of it. If James knew about the millions of accounts he had created over the years he would definitely not stop at 1 million Vin. Typhos began to list the fake names he had used to make his accounts. If he didn't have such an absurd Intelligence stat, he would never have remembered all the names, even if he spent all 10,000 years of his life repeating them all. Two hours later over 750 million Vin had been transferred into his main account. When he had seen James getting a bit restless, he had told him he could keep 10 million Vin instead of 1 million.

Cash and card in hand, Typhos returned to the bar to pay his bill. The bartender said nothing about the fingerprint scanner, but quietly accepted the additional 3,000 Vin as a tip. Finally having set himself up with enough money to buy enough booze to drown the city in, Typhos spent the rest of the day running up a massive bill at the bar, only stumbling out when the bartender said they were out of the premium rum for the day. Having drank more than enough rum to make him sick several times over, Typhos finally set his mind on what to do next. He figured he would head to the bottom level of the city. Things were more like he was used to down there. Dirtier, cheaper, and much less high profile. The best part of moving down, though? The damn bartender would allow him to pass out on the counter.