To have a child in the new synthetic world required 1 of 2 things. Wealth or intelligence.

Thanks to the sickness that had long plagued the land, a great deal of men and women died before reaching infancy. The rest, however, suffered disease and rapid organ failure as they aged. Most souls had little choice but to die before reaching 20 years old. Had it not been for Chem Corp’s synthetic organs, extinction might have been inevitable for the human race.

Even with Chem Corp aiding the lives of seven world governments, it had become impossible to survive without undergoing what was known as a Transfer. The process of moving a living being’s brain and other organs into a new and more durable body had become common practice to prolong life. But Transfers and synthetic organs were costly.

Having children with the intention of seeing them outlive a dog was an expensive commitment.

“I’m far too old to find a woman to give me natural offspring. Of course, I’m left with one choice. I’ll have to create my own child, a daughter, to inherit all of my knowledge and the scrap yard,” Zero explained while simultaneously working to repair one of his virtual game pods.

In that early hour of the day, when the sun had yet to rise above the brown smog covered sky, Zero’s business hadn’t opened yet. His garage was never silent, not with contraptions making melodies, but there was a distinct absence of something. Perhaps it was the moans of boys using his pods to pleasure themselves or simulated gun shots. No matter what was missing from the air of sounds, without it, Jabari couldn’t overlook just how grand his mentor’s kingdom was. No one else living outside a major city had a claim over such a plot of land, material, and investment.

It was a frequent thought for the young boy- why hadn't Zero been raided or killed yet? Did his home not constantly attract thieves or worse?

“Why don’t you leave everything to me?” Jabari asked, standing nearby while fixing a tool belt around his waist.

“You’re lucky to be alive, boy. See the age of 25, and it’ll be a miracle,” Zero laughed before adding, “I can’t afford a Transfer, and I surely won’t pay for yours before my own.”

The old man turned away from the disassembled pod to face Jabari.

“You’re going to the Roulette Lounge. The twins have offered to part with a vital piece of my puzzle in exchange for our help.”

“What kind of help?”

“If they’re turning to us, it won’t be anything simple. That’s why you’ll need this,” Zero said and took something from one of the many pockets of his ripped, faded overalls.

A gun, but not just any.

Handing Jabari the weapon, Zero explained, “In the city, men are more metal than flesh. They don’t die easily. That will discharge rounds powerful enough to stop or start a heart. However, I recommend using it with caution.”

“But it’s so... small,” Jabari spoke, underwhelmed by the meek tool.

He held the gun with a single hand and found it so compact that he could hardly fit his finger around the trigger without getting stuck.

“It’s a custom model designed to avoid detection by most scans. It carries three shots on a single charge, and,” Zero said with pride in his invention until Jabari interrupted to reiterate, “But it’s tiny. Can’t I take something intimidating?”

“Like what?” The inventor shook his head, annoyed but entertaining his assistant.

“The Crux Saw?” Jabari suggested enthusiastically before his mentor quickly told him, “No. Don’t draw attention to yourself. City folk will try to take advantage of you alone. If you walk in and pose any threat, they’ll sooner kill you and sell your parts to Chem Corp.”

“Fine.”

The boy abandoned his wish and dropped the gun into his pocket with reckless nonchalance.

As the sun arose, Zero escorted his assistant out of the garage, sending Jabari on his way with a final warning.

“When you see the twins, don’t play their games. Finish the job, get the piece, get out.”

The boy shook his head and went on his way.

Outside Zero’s lab, the scrap yard was both a resource and an obstacle. Cybernetic parts, vehicles, and weapons littered the grounds, some buried in the earth under others. Despite the rusted materials and discarded limbs, the yard had a modest sense of order with its cleared paths. Jabari’s feet had long grown used to the uneven ground that put metallic limbs and hollowed bots under his steps, but even he, at times, couldn’t avoid injury on his way in or out.

Tone City had several waste pits, but Zero’s yard was unique in how no one seemed to guard it. The materials a person could find on a five-minute walk through the mineral rich maze were worth a fortune, and yet, no one had ever dug through the heap until the old inventor arrived. Of course, few people could distinguish dirt from gold when it came to identifying valuable parts. Zero was among the few who could turn broken machines into working wonders.

Jabari wasn’t stupid.

He understood that although his mentor's mind was unique, there should have been more people eager to explore the yard. Although his employment with the old man was relatively brief, no more than two years, he was confident Zero was loved or feared in some significant way. The boy assumed most of the local wasteland people were fond of his teacher. The young men of the community were obviously fans of Zero’s virtual pods.

Jabari questioned if simulated games were enough to keep the yard clear of unwelcomed guests.

Nevertheless, he was grateful for the absence of hazards during his escape from the junkyard. None other than stepping on screws, cutting himself on jagged sheets of metal, or possibly falling into pits of junk that could have collapsed under too much weight. At least there weren’t any living threats, he thought. Lucky for him, after two years of employment, most of the scrap yard hazards were predictable, so he made it out of the territory with little more than a scratch or two that morning.