Blue. Blue fills her vision, a burst of essence and energy. Nothing but her conscience and the blurring state of existence and… Blue, then green as it fills and mixes into itself, forming turquoise as bundles of purples and magentas take over their own space. Colour and power and space, an unstoppable chaos yet in complete balance. Infinite everything swirling together constantly, all this…

----------------------------------------

- Hey, wassup?

- Yo, I'm in the Waters and I got a body here. And I'mma be honest, we got the jackpot with this one.

- Is the body alive?

- I dunno. Biomon is completely offline, whole system is down.

- What? Okay then… Um, then just go the old fashion way. Find the pulse, check if they're breathing.

- Do I have to? I mean, dude, you would not believe the hardware she's packing. I'm talking off the market FAR shit, stuff that'll make us bank!

- Do it! If she's dead we'll take the implants, you know how this works!

- Fine! God you're such a fucking pushover… Okayyy, think I got it… Okay, wait… I don't… Here? Ye... Shit I got a pulse…

- You sure?

- It's faint, but I'm positive.

- Make your way back right now! If the biomon is out and the body is alive in a fucking dump that means it won't last much longer.

- Be there in 20.

- You better make it 10!

Bo hangs up. The soft ocean waves crash onto the trash filled coast. Mountains upon mountains of garbage and scrap cover the sands of the beach. Bo stands atop one of these mounds, removing his bird-like helm. He pulls the limp body of a woman atop his shoulders before walking towards the towering skyscrapers that fill the illuminated sky.

- Fuck me, you’re heavier than you look.

Step after step, he marches forward with as much haste as he can, plastic trash and rusted metal cracking under the weight of his feet. He finally reaches a poorly built dune buggy. An amalgamation of colorful bits of metal and spiraling wires connected to a slew of oddly complicated machinery, audio systems, and unnecessarily large speakers, all mounted across the vehicle, creating a cage over the two seemingly comfortable seats.

He quickly, although carefully, rests the girl's body into the passenger seat before rushing to his own. The loud electric purr of the car wrestles with the powerful winds of the coast. He drives off, out of the scraps of the Waters and onto the streets of the beautifully horrible city of Namentis.

Winding through the tight, dirty roads of the district, rushing through stop signs and intersections, past unbothered police, he turns his headlights on as the sun sets behind him. The neon signs of the markets, stores, clinics, and whatever other attractions slowly brighten and he turns to see their light reflect off the luxurious metal plating below the girl's eyes.

He breaks to a halt in the back of a dingy looking medical center. Already out of his car, he quickly picks the girl up from her seat. The alley door of the building slides open, and Odell, a short, bearded man emerges.

- She still alive?

- Think so.

- I set up the table, put her there while I lock the doors.

Tying back his thick hair, Odell looms over the medical examination table, a large bright light shines onto the girl's unconscious body. From his data pad he activates a large scanning arm that descends from the ceiling. He yells out to Bo, currently heating up some food in the other room.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

- You find her like this?

- Yeah, missing arm and everything. How is she doing by the way?

- Pfft, bad would be an understatement. Her whole implant system is off, I mean it's as if someone literally pulled the plug on her. Add to that the missing left arm and a few organ failures just for good measure and you get what should be a dead woman, yet she is still somehow breathing.

- Can you fix her?, He says as he walks in, eating ramen from a small container.

- I mean hopefully. I'm going to have to switch out a lot of the software here cuz her fancy FAR hardware is completely useless without me doing that, might even have to switch some parts out too. If she doesn't flatline before then, within a couple weeks she should be-

Bo drops his food on the ground.

- What the fuck?

- What is it? Never seen tits before?

- No! That shit yo.

He points to a symbol on her ribcage, a tattoo or marking of what seems like an upside down “L”.

- So? Is just a tattoo.

- Nahh…That’s the same marking Gio had, in the exact same spot too.

- Who cares? It’s probably some Corp related thing, for all we know Gio could’ve been as involved with FAR as she is. You know as well as I do that she kept secrets, this could easily be one of them.

- I guess…

-Either way, let's try to keep her alive, if she wakes up you’ll be able to ask as many questions as you want. Now fuck off while I save this sorry girl.

Bo lingers for a few seconds, seemingly perturbed by the mark he witnessed. He shakes it off and walks out of the operating room, opening the front door and onto the small porch looking out into the street. He sits down and takes a thin smoke out of his jacket pocket, sticking it into his mouth as it lights of its own accord. He inhales. A long day of scavenging had just ended, and a long one is ahead of him. It’s regular business. For some reason, the city’s more beautiful today than it was yesterday. The lights shine cleaner, the dust feels less thick, the chatter seems less violent, everything seems somehow more pleasant, for Bo at least, but that might simply be his optimistic side creeping up, and usually that’s not something anyone here wants. He exhales. He closes his eyes as he hears the daily 7pm steps of Silt, his scrap “inH” buyer, a loud and faster-talker that drives most around here crazy.

- Ahhhh, Bo, Bo, Bo! Please tell me you had some luck today, my other guys have got nothing! And when I say nothing believe me, I mean nothing! So look tell you what, I’m in generous mood so whatever-

- Dude, everytime! Please shut the fuck up. Buy the shit and fuck off, it’s as simple as that, you always drag shit out. Look I got eight “H”, say forty for the lot, ye? Ayt cool, transfer the bag and leave, dude.

- See, that’s what I like to see! Initiative! And no bullshit! That’s a businessman if I’ve ever seen one, you know, I know a great-

- You know jack, man. Here, now please leave.

Bo hands over a box filled with used dirty inhalers to Silt. He quickly snatches them and starts counting them quickly.

- Now, a big thank you to you my friend! I’ll see you tomorrow!

He starts walking back from where he came from, counting his lot over and over.

Bo finishes his smoke in silence, listening to persisting sounds of sirens, gunshots, and screaming, a calming amalgamation of sound for those who have lived here long enough. He gets up and walks back through the front door. He passes Odell currently hands deep in some type of surgery, and up the stairs into their shared apartment. Old food and drinks litter the tight strip of living quarters both Bo and Odell call home. The TV still is open on whatever show one forgot to turn off, and harsh hiphop blasts through their pricey speakers, seemingly the only thing of value in their place. The young Bo crashes onto his dingy couch and opens up his console, but not before taking a hit from his bong, currently sitting on his common spot; the coffee table.