Time elapsed at a snail's pace. Excitement at the thought of rebelling against the company quickly died out, the sparks flickering hesitantly. Every day that passed since he hatched his idea felt slower than the one before. Granted, it had only been three days, but days work differently in the conditions that codescribblers endure. Their entire life is constructed in a foreign environment and they're alienated from what it means to be human.

Christian worked diligently, it was all he ever did. Right now, he was working to prove to the company he was loyal. In a few weeks time, he would be working diligently to match work quotas. In the future, he hoped, he'd be working diligently to keep himself free. As he worked, he thought about Ernest Martin and the Mutation Control Department. If Christian were to join the rebel forces, wouldn't this mean he'd find himself in Ernest's path again?

After all, it seemed like the Mutation Control Department was first-in-line to apprehend anyone who wanted to escape the company's matrix. Not to mention, by that point, Christian would have to face way more than three burly men and one stuck-up villainous officer.

With all these thoughts scrambling Christian's head, it was no surprise that before he knew it, the day was over. Like he did before, he laid down and started focusing on his breathing. Much to his dismay however, nothing came of this and the day started again. It was a cycle that had already ran its course, yet kept repeating.

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Company propaganda filled every pixel of the television. Uncanny voices from fake people told the citizens of the company the latest, preapproved news. Today was a closer to a three-part epic they had been telling day by day. How they found dissident action within the company itself, how they reacted swiftly and properly to take care of it, and the fair, just trials that happened afterwards.

From Christian's own experiences, it was hard not to be cynical about every cheerful story that came out of the horse's mouth. The authorities started to seem more like they shouldn't belong in power.

He moved over to his computer, starting his workday. Everything was as expected. An interframe module here, a communciations protocol network there. While it seemed fast, his speed was quite slow in comparison to the best codescribblers. They were groomed from birth to be the absolute best, dealing with bugs and major issues as they popped up in real time.

As he typed away, he noticed in the corner of his eye, a window opened like it had done a few days prior. This time, Christian didn't wait for a response. He quickly sent the first message, "Hello?"

After a few moments, the other side replied, "Do you want to join the resistance?"