"Welcome back."

Elias jolted to life, his vision hazy and dark. He sputtered as he attempted to heave up from under the rusted metal crushing him, his body aching and churning from its sudden awakening. He looked around to see what was speaking to him; his vision slowly clearing as he attempted to take in his surroundings.

A cold gust of wind came from his side - revealing the dark expanses of an ocean faintly illuminated by a neon glow. Before him lay a beach sodden with metal scrap, pushed against a tall seawall, the litter washing ashore as the tides rose.

"You are disoriented," Came the voice again, "A side effect of... falling two stories."

"Where-" Elias grunted out, before clearing his scratchy voice; "Who?" he sputtered, continuing his frantic search for the origin of this cryptic voice, to no avail.

"That is... unimportant. Well, for now at least. All you need to know is that you should listen to me."

Elias fell back to the ground reluctantly, taking a seat on the scrap metal beneath. The pain he had initially felt had dulled, leaving him only confused, frustrated, and cold. "What..?" He responded out loud, narrowing his eyes at the ocean as if he was visualizing the voice. He sat still for a moment, before looking up, his mind still hazy. That offer didn't sound suspicious at all, and so he voiced his concerns.

"And... why should I listen to you?"

"It is not as if you are in any position to refuse."

Elias gave an exasperated sigh, clearing his dry throat; "G-Guess I can't argue with that."

Groggily rising from his seat on the rubble, turning, and scanning his environment for any way out of the dump, it didn't take long to notice a thin winding path which seemed to lead up alongside the dimpled wall. Carefully testing pieces of rubble with his foot, he made his way towards the path. "Who... who am I?"

"Your name is Elias Foreman."

"Elias Foreman." He paused, looking down at his hands. He was filled with so many mixed emotions. Ordinarily, wouldn't someone who just woke up in a scrapheap be more concerned? He felt like he had just finished a bad night of drinking, but he couldn't even remember that being something he'd tried. What even is 'ordinary?'

He had arrived at the top of the dump, leading to some sort of alleyway between two large concrete buildings, which looked as if they hadn't been cleaned in decades. It was the dead of night yet still quite bright, likely attributed to pink/purple haze coming from up the coast... Wherever he was right now was gloomy, quiet and dirty, though this train of observation soon abruptly came to an end, as Elias noticed movement in the alleyway.

He quickly turned around to get a better view, noticing a couple of rats skittering away from something lying against the wall. Relieved it was just rodents, he pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a shaky breath. Elias squinted, approaching the source of the rats and coming to a stop in front of it.

It was a lifeless body under a hoodie. The flesh was bruised and the face was caved in, as if it had been repeatedly hit with a bat. His brows furrowed at the sight, a morbid curiosity guiding his index finger, raising the hood.

The corpse belonged to a man, and was covered in a number of strange incisions all over the flesh - on the wrists, under the palms, even on the legs. Elias quickly withdrew his hand, "Ah..." He stared for a moment, before averting his eyes, "He's not doing... too well." Elias commented - a sickly feeling welling from the bottom of his gut.

"Now this is convenient."

"Convenient???" Elias' head pulled off to the side, giving a concerned stare into the void.

"Death from apparent blunt force trauma. Based on the locations of the wounds, it was no accident."

"And why is this dead body 'convenient?' " Elias wiped some stray viscera that had clung to his hands on the man's jeans.

"There are certain things I cannot share with you." The voice responded, before speaking unprompted, "Incidentally, however, I have your first instruction."

In a weak attempt to sidetrack from the present, Elias argued. "Hey, buddy. This ain't gonna work out if we're not truthful with eachother." He frowned, and crossed his arms, haughtily.

"Use a sharp object to remove the body's left eye."

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"What."

"Use a sharp object to remove th-."

"Okay! I heard you the first time! Could I at least get an explanation of some sort?" His eyes glided back down to the still bloodied corpse. "Is there even an eye to... remove?"

The voice seemed to be silently weighing its options, Elias could tell it was not keen to share any details. "There is a device implanted beside the optical nerve that requires acquisition."

Elias let out a long breath of air... He felt like this was something he should refuse - but for some reason, a sick fascination purveyed him.

"Baby-steps, I guess." He turned, "Uhh.. something to cut with..." before spotting a nearby dumpster. He rummaged through it for a moment, "Why is there a doll in here? What's-" Elias picked up a small elastic rubber, "Yuck!"

After a few moments of digging through a homeless man's treasure trove, Elias pulled out a shard of glass.

"This'll probably do the trick... Sadly."

He returned to the body with a strong grip on either face of the shard. He squatted down, before digging the fragment into the already gooey eye socket; pre-minced for ease of access.

Crimson flesh loosened under the probing of his street scalpel, which he wielded with a certain finesse uncharacteristic of a slum-dweller.

With a sickening plop, the crushed eye rolled out of it's socket, sloppily sagging into its owner's lap with a squelch. Blood slowly dripped from the emptied hole, pooling into its crevices and painting the once clear shard opaque red. Revealed in the eyes absence was a small bulge beside the optical nerve; metallic and pill sized.

"Seize the chip."

Elias gave an uncomfortable groan, digging his slender hands, into the flesh and withdrawing a tiny device. He wiped loose tags of flesh from it, with one of the few unbloodied parts of his hand, unveiling a miniscule brand name; 'Itia.'

"... What's 'Itia'?"

"In Anomina, an individual's privacy is often regarded as a valuable resource. Itia Incorporated ensures that you will know if your information is public, and will also defend you legally if that is the case... Regardless of the individual."

"Right... And what's Anomina?"

"You are currently located in the poverty zone of Anomina city, colloquially called 'The Unders.' but otherwise, the slums."

Elias nodded along. "So... Why is this important?" He held the chip up in his fingers against a street-light, squinting.

"It grants users access into the main information hub of the Itia bui-" The voice paused, "Hide."

Elias blinked, looking to the end of the alley, "What? - Why?"

The blaring roar of an engine came from just outside of the alleyway, reaffirming the voice's instructions. Elias stepped back, before running to the dumpster and hurling himself into it just seconds before a scratched and dented truck skid around the corner.

"What's happening???"

"You do not need to speak out loud when talking to me... I am in your conscience."

"..."

'So you've been able to hear my thoughts this entire time?'

"... Yes."

The slamming of doors brought Elias' attention back to the alley. Cautiously, he lifted the dumpster lid slightly and peered out. Two individuals had exited the car, one in a sleeveless hoodie with a rugged mohawk and what seemed like seamlessly metallic arms, and the other in a trench-coat, with a glowing red frontal visor which seemed as if it had been melded to his flesh.

"How can you be so goddamn incompetent?!? There's only so many places they put 'em!" The one with a visor said, as he looked back at the other, who shuffled awkwardly behind the man, twitching a bit when he yelled.

"I-I-I'm sorry Anders, he put up a fight and there was weird pulsin' dronin' noise comin' from the shore 'n it was real dark 'n all. I looked everywhere, I swear! I couldn't find it!" Farmer managed to stutter out his response, as he approached the body.

"It's behind the fuckin' eye, dumbass. LEFT. EYE." He pointed to where his left eye would be, before groaning; "Go get it." He tossed a switchblade to Farmer, lighting a cigarette.

Elias grimaced, fully engaged in the situation from his dumpster spectator seat.

'Uhh wait. Isn't this sorta bad?'

"This was unanticipated."

"Left eye..? Got it... Got it..." Elias watched as Farmer kneeled and grabbed the head, pausing... "Uhhm.."

"What is it?" Anders sighed.

"..."

"What?"

"The chip.. it's.. gone."

The visored man fell silent, staring down at Farmer who struggled to maintain eye-contact. "You're pullin' my leg." He stated dryly.

"Someone musta' takin' it! I'm sure I got the right guy! I KNOW I got the right guy!"

"I've had enough of your bullshit." The visored man spoke up, as if concluding, "I'm done wastin' my time here." Anders stepped back and drew a glowing handgun, a strange, rippling red current calmly flowed through its barrel.

"W-wait! It's only been like a couple hours! Maybe we can.. still find it?" Farmer quickly stood with his hands up.

As soon as the gun was drawn, the voice droned out. "Attempting to run S.D protocol. Error: Recent boot."

Anders pointed the gun center mass. He didn't respond.

'Huh - S.D what now?'

"Fuck it- YOU WON'T KILL ME!" Farmer exclaimed as his metallic arms suddenly expanded, forming a shield. "GOOD LUC-"

A rumbling boom shot out from Anders' gun along with a bright red flash, rattling Elias to the core. He quickly let go of the lid and grabbed his ringing ears, wincing from the sudden loud noise.

"Fuckin' augment junkie." Anders took a puff of his cigarette, as he let his handgun steam. Farmer's shredded body fell to the ground, a charred hole straight through his chest and molten metal dripping from his arms. "Your techmonkey ripped you off." He stated dryly, walking further up the alley, past the dumpster and looking out to the ocean, blowing smoke. He didn't put his gun away.

'Can I get any explanation? Please?' Elias thought to the voice, going over the scene before him. What was that gun? What was with that man's arms? Why is this chip so important to these people?

"I will explain soon-"

Anders flicked his cigarette aside, and looked back.

"Get out of the dumpster."