Anders stood infront of the large garbage disposal, glaring through it. Lines of code were just barely visible as they parsed through his visor.

Elias widened his eyes - had he not been quiet enough? Had this man heard him before, or noticed him peeking? How the hell did he know?

Slowly and cautiously, Elias lifted the lid and stepped out with his hands up, remaining silent and understandably frightened. Anders simply glared at Elias, but didn't point his gun.

Now that they were eye to... visor... - Elias finally noticed how intimidating of an individual this man was. Tall and considerably muscular - one could tell he had been training in some manner despite the fact he wore a trenchcoat and cargo pants; obscuring his frame. He had slight stubble, and a large scar surrounding the grafted tech in place of his eyes, Elias winced at the thought of it being installed, scanning over the mans feature.

Whilst Elias scanned over Anders' features, the gangster let out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Tch - chill out, kid."

"...Huh?"

"I don't have a reason to hurt you. Not yet."

Elias slowly dropped his arms. He had just witnessed this man murder someone right infront of him - wasn't that a problem on quite a few levels?

Anders stepped back, and leaned on the alley wall opposite to Elias. "You haven't got any concealed bionics on you, right? Any scramblin' tech I can't see? I trust you'll tell me the truth."

"Uhh... concealed bionics?" Elias frowned, not sure what Anders was talking about.

"He refers to-"

The voice stopped as Anders responded - "What?" He said confused, as if Elias' question was strange in any way, "Hidden implants - y'know, scramblers 'n shit. I'm not a idiot, kid, don't play dumb."

Elias' mouth twitched as he awkwardly put his hands up, waving them side to side to clear himself up. "No, really, I don't know what those are."

"Okay, fine." Anders furrowed his brows, to which Elias nodded. The visored man sighed, bringing his arm up and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You barely look like y'could take on an emaciated muskrat, so I'll put it aside fer now." He stepped off the wall, and approached Elias, extending a hand.

"Uh-" Elias looked up at him, confused, eventually putting out a hand for a shake.

"No, dumbass, gimme the chip." Anders stared.

"Oh uhh.. rig-" He quickly pulled his hand back, "Wait huh? How did you kno-"

"Do NOT relinquish the chip." Said the voice sternly.

Elias cleared his voice, "- Ahem, that is, how did you know that I don't have a chip on me."

"I told you buddy, I'm not around to play fuckin' games." He pressed, stepping in with a threatening tone, and pressing the barrel of his still warm pistol to Elias's forehead, forcing him against the wall.

"Shit, alright!" Elias immediately learned to regret his past choices, as the man's arm slammed the wall beside his head.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, he caved. At the end of the day, he knew defying this guy would only lead to trouble. As far as Elias was concerned, this voice was just a noise in his head. He didn't have any business, or knowledge with Itia.

"DO NOT RELINQUISH THE CHIP."

He swiftly dropped a hand into his pocket to grab the small device.

"DONOTRELINQUISHTHECHIP."

"Good."

Suddenly, a piercing feeling shot throughout Elias' head and his vision went blurry. He let out a cry as he fell to the ground, wincing in pain from this sudden shock. It felt as if all the neurons in his body were firing rockets.

"Huh-?" Anders stepped back, as Elias screamed and collapsed.

Anders knelt, warily hovering over Elias before grabbing him by the shoulders - "Hey, kid? Snap out of it! Goddamnit it." Elias' could feel the intense grip of someone holding him by the shoulders as his convulsions came to and end, and everything went dark.

Elias groggily awoke, too dazed to be appreciative for the padded mattress beneath him and the heated room. He once again brought his eyes focus, to review his position; a rickety bedframe, in the corner of a wooden-floored, concrete room. In the corner of the space was a rusted heater, along with a wardrobe. Elias pushed himself up and sat with a slight hunch on the mattress, rubbing his forehead with a hand and groaning. He took the moment of solace to gather his memories, though was quickly interrupted.

"You were warned. Now you understand the result of defying commands, do not do it again."

'...This doesn't seem like a fair distribution of my bodily uses.' Elias groaned and rubbed his forehead.

'What the FUCK was that???'

"Punishment."

'So you can just.. make me pass out? Whenever you want?'

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Affirmative."

'What did you want me to do? Get my head blown off?!?'

He hadn't realised his freedom was this limited. The voice was annoying enough, but it was only more frustrating that it could back up its threats of punishment.

"Stop lookin' constipated." Anders spoke up from just infront of the door which was slightly ajar. The man leaned against the dull concrete entryway.

Surprised, Elias jolted up, sitting straight. He looked to the man, who stood silently. ".. Did you bring me here?"

"What do you think?" He said dully, staring at Elias.

"Haha... Yeah..." He nervously chuckled, "Uhh... why?"

"You had a seizure infront of me, should I not have?"

Elias frowned, lest he get branded the weird one here.

"No - what??? I just watched you off a dude! I wasn't exactly expecting to wake up to... housekeeping???" Elias protested, before catching Anders' unimpressed and frankly, annoyed look. "Sorry... thank you."

Anders sighed, "You mean that techjunkie? Farmer? He was a sick coward who's killed women, children 'n more. He deserved it."

Elias was left with a few questions. This guy saved him when he passed out, out of goodwill, allegedly. But at the same time, wasn't he some sort of gangster? He killed a man right infront of him after all. How did he even know he was in the dumpster to begin with? Wait - the chip. Elias felt down his pockets, confirming it was, expectedly, gone.

"Oh, that's what I meant to ask." Anders spoke up, watching Elias checking his pockets, "You don't look experienced enough, yet you knew where to find the chip and the guy with it, and how to extract it. Not to mention you don't seem to be overly... dangerous. I mean shit, a dumpster, really..?" He laughed at the stupidity. "Who do you work for?"

"Not like I had many other options." Elias begrudgingly muttered. "Work for?" He paused, thinking about how to explain himself, "I don't work for anyone... I think."

"You think? What's that supposed to mean?" Anders stared.

"Uhh it's gonna sound crazy but..."

"What, your imaginary best friend sends you on lil' spy missions?"

"No..! Well..."

Anders waited for a punchline, before noting Elias' sincere expression.

"So you're schizophrenic. Fuckin' great." Anders commented, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"That is a fair evaluation."

Doubling down, he stepped off the wall. "You're bein' serious?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"I don't know what else to tell you, man."

"... this got anythin' to do with you suddenly goin' haywire infront of me?"

"Unfortunately." Elias sighed.

Anders returned a longer, heavier breath. Weird that he believed him so willingly. Or maybe he didn't. before grunting as he turned and walked to the wardrobe. "Well, ordinarily, we'd be takin' you to a techmonkey..."

"What's a techmonkey?"

Anders stopped, staring at Elias.

"You don't even know what that is? Christ, kid. How'd you even survive this long?" He looked aside, "A mechanic, I guess. Put simply."

Elias paused for a moment, debating whether he should mention the fact he had no clue where he was from, or who he was, but held off on it for now.

More importantly, he wanted to ask why Anders cared about all this in the first place? Why hadn't he just tossed Elias out? Did he really believe Elias' crazy-sounding responses or did he just not care enough to inquire? Elias had already told Anders about the voice, and was at this point a little worried that the same voice wouldn't be too keen on much more sharing. He could feel an uncanny pressure, in the corners of his mind, not controlling him, but simply asserting it's presence.

"I was... sheltered, I guess?" Elias gave another flawed lie.

"Sheltered? Huh?" a grin was just barely visible on Anders. Of course he didn't believe it. "Uhuh. How in the hell d'you end up 'round here then?"

"I-"

"Don't care." He interrupted, reaching into a wardrobe and pulling out a change of clothes, tossing over a black hoodie, jeans and white T-shirt. "Anyways, as I was sayin'... Ordinarily, I'd be takin' you to a techmonkey, but I have some things I need to get done before that. You smell like pisswater - go take a shower and get changed." He pointed to a door in the other room.

"Huh- I'm coming too?" Elias pointed at himself, before catching the clothes. awkwardly

"You ain't leaving my sight."

"Alright.. Thanks."

The cyborg was hard to read. It felt like any effort for a friendly comment or joke was snuffed out by his almost suffocating presence.

Elias found his way to the bathroom, which was a small ceramic-tiled room with a rusted shower head at the end, a toilet in the corner and a drain in the middle. He closed the door and flicked the light switch on the interior, toggling a yellowed bulb which came with its own irritating buzzing. Elias shivered as he stepped into cold puddles of water. Anders must've used it before him. His attention was soon drawn to a mirror on the wall above a sink.

It occurred to Elias that he hadn't even seen himself yet. He stripped his body of its ragged clothing and took a moment to observe his own features.

He had fair and clear white skin, save for the redness of his cheeks and pointed nose from the cold of the bathroom. His face was square with a sharp jawline, medium length, jet black hair curtained either side of his head, unfortunately just long enough to obscure his view when left unattended.

He was surprisingly fit - not completely athletic, but skinny and muscular enough for it to be visible on his frame. Strong enough to take on a muskrat, surely.

The glimpse of raised skin caught his eye; a scar directly over his heart taking the shape of five neatly organised dots - not unlike what you'd find on a dice. He traced the bumps; long since healed from whatever perforation caused them.

Honestly, he was pleasantly surprised by his appearance, ignoring dirt, rust and dust that he had accumulated on his journey here. Admittedly, the lack of blemishes, scars and cybernetics was quite unbefitting of someone in the slums, if Anders and Farmer were any indicator. He felt comfortable in his own skin. A shame he had to share it.

Finally, he approached the crude shower in the corner, stepping under and twisting the nob labelled 'hot.'

"SHIT-"

Falling for the most basic blunder of all - a cold jet of water shot right down on his defenseless body. He waited for a moment for it to warm up, before he stepped back in and washed himself.

"... This water smells funny."

---

Anders sat on a lounge in the room opposite the bathroom. He reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small, cracked phone. He grunted as he flicked through countless missed calls from unknown numbers and opened his contact list. He called an individual by the name 'Tinka.'

Brrrrr. Brrrrr. Brrrrr.

"Wassup." An eccentric, crackly male voice responded to the call.

"I need you to check something for me." Anders said dully.

"Fried one of ya nodes again? Or ya got a virus of somekind?"

"Neither. I've got a guy who I need you to run a hardware check on."

"Oh? Sounds interestin'. What're'ya lookin' for?"

"Tryin' to figure out what group he works for. Accordin' to him, it's a voice in his head. Hah."

"Faulty Joyline maybe? That can cause some nasty hallucination shit, I don't fuck wit' dat."

"That's the thing; normally I'da tossed him to the streets by now, but he knows stuff he shouldn't. He doesn't act like a trained thug or spy either." Anders paused and chuckled, "... Shit - maybe he's a real good actor... Or an exec. doll."

"Yeaahh yikes. I'd be careful wit' dat. Unlikely, but nothin's impossible. Bring him in, but if I get fuckin' copped I'll-."

Anders sighed, "Yeah yeah. Same deal as usual. I've got some ends that need tyin' up on my side, so I'll come around soon." He hung up, sitting back in his chair and staring out the dusty window.