The Endless City was like a metal lasagna that stretched 8 miles high and covered the entire planet. It reached all the way from the industrial atmospheric sector down to the sea.

The bottom levels were known as The Marshes.

Here the people worked and struggled based on the tide report. On a good day one could walk the boggy avenues illuminated by weak artificial sunlight. On a bad day the streets were buried under a half mile of radiated and polluted seawater. The Marshes saw mostly bad days.

As in general for cities, the worst parts were where all the cool shit was.

Gondo and his friends strolled through a window tube, giddy on their triumph. Even when submerged The Marshes operated. Through the distorted haze of the tube, one could see a wedding party. A playground. Even without natural sunlight the people still worked on a normal schedule, but the bars were all open 24 hours a day.

They came upon The Soft Watch.

The Soft Watch was a surrealist bar frequented by Casters. The owners had decorated the walls with Ernst, Magritte and Dali. Bookshelves climbed the lofty ceilings to reveal artificial skylights. A variety of well-maintained plants gave the atmosphere a lush quality, and the drinks were top notch.

Gondo and his friends took a table in the back near a large peacefully flowing fountain. Classic shoegaze lilted on the subtle breeze. He and Lowell ordered shots and beers, and Ignasius ran an inebriation program. His light dimmed to a flat beige color and he rocked slightly back and forth humming to himself merrily.

The Soft Watch was special in other ways. As a Caster hang out it was a declared Safe Zone. No Mind War was allowed to be conducted, and the rule was strictly adhered to. Dampeners surrounded the area at a wide range should anyone get a wild hair after one too many. It was important for Casters to allow for areas like this to exist. When your brain was a deadly weapon, a code of conduct was essential.

A cat jumped onto the table and began rubbing its face against Gondo’s hand. Matisse had been a soulful grey tabby with bright green eyes. Of course, Matisse wasn’t actually there. When his beloved pet had passed away after a long and wonderful life, Gondo had him uploaded into his consciousness. Now he could see his friend whenever he liked. The technology was hugely popular, and it was no longer strange to see a person talking to an invisible entity, or to see a hand petting thin air.

The crew was enjoying themselves, chatting excitedly about the next steps of their project, when a woman approached the table. It was an old friend of theirs, Jasper. She had been at the Academy with Gondo.

“Well, you all are enjoying yourselves! Can’t have anything to do with this shadowy research project I’ve been hearing about?” she hinted, obviously.

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The downside to commonplace psychic communication was that word traveled quickly.

“Whatever do you mean, my friend? We’re just having a day out.” Gondo replied casually.

“Keep your secrets then.” Jasper chuckled, “But Gondo, a word if you will?”

Gondo stood from the table and walked to the bar with Jasper. They ordered two whiskeys, and held them up to each other.

“Onward, Astral Voyager” they cheered, in the traditional Caster fashion.

Gondo took a sip. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing great, of course. I’ve had some word about our old friend Calcio. Sounds like he’s on another bender. I know we’ve both bailed him out dozens but this time seems different.” she replied with a worried frown.

Calcio was Gondo’s best friend through school. He was a hilarious and impulsive Caster with a genius intellect. Sadly, he had squandered most of his talent in a black market Trinalyte haze.

Gondo had been so absorbed in the project he had neglected to check in on his friend in weeks.

“Of course, thanks for letting me know. I should head over to his and pop in.” Gondo finished his drink and paid the tab. He excused himself from his friends, and exited the Watch.

As he walked down the tube to catch his shuttle one of the titanic underwater creatures called Leviathans coasted by, drenching the walkway into further darkness. These bioengineered monstrosities had been created to eat the massive amount of plastic in the oceans, but radioactive waste had transformed them into colossal behemoths. What started as cute seal-like beings quickly developed into the gargantuan tide beasts whose shadowy forms now patrolled the Marshes. They ate anything they encountered, and they were seemingly immortal. Even so they were quite commonplace, and seeing a living creature other than a human always thrilled Gondo. Most of the surviving species were in off-world zoos with hefty price tags.

The creature’s shadow had finally passed as he reached the shuttle and continued his way through the Marshes to Calcio’s place.

As he sat gazing out the window into the murky darkness he thought about his last Cast. He could still feel the buzz from it, the power that he had experienced under the Moonshield. He was anxious to get back to testing, but needed some time for his brain to recover.

Swiftly he arrived in Calcio’s neighborhood. He could be a thousand miles from the Watch by now for all he knew. Public transport was so quick that the size of the Endless City was as incomprehensible as the infinite reaches of space.

He approached Calcio’s dilapidated apartment block and climbed the stairs. He knocked on the door but only out of habit. His friend would undoubtably be under. He used his spare key and opened the door.

The place was a nightmare. Fast food wrappers and liquor bottles littered the ground. The lights were all off, and it smelled like old trash. The living room was dominated by a large Casting table. His friend had opted for a top-of-the-line model which featured all the bells and whistles. It had an ergonomic inset and built in injectors. It was obviously the most expensive thing in the room, and created a direct contrast to the devastation around it.

Calcio lay illuminated on the table, a serene look on his face. Gondo was about to settle in and wait for his friend to wake when he noticed Calcio wasn’t breathing. His form, normally bronzed and vibrant, was emaciated, grey and still. Calcio was dead.