Although the city is known to be a 'new' city, its buildings and people have gone through an eventful history producing an enriched and unique culture. The smell, sound, feeling, and sight is distinct and engraved into the city's cracks and personality. Moreover, with a population that's lively and busy every day and night, history is in the works day and night. Particularly tonight is when history will transform. Specifically, a new era begins in this city, where the titles are set and where the pawns craftily set into motion.

On this cloudy night, a vigilante known as Mute is on watch. She wears an all-black outfit with a black mask covering most of the lower face, nose, and mouth. Her long jet-black hair is tied into a ponytail, her skin tone is pale white, and her eyes are glowing silver. She sits on a gargoyle hanging off a building that towers over every other in a two-block radius. Below, using her advanced eyesight, she scans the rooftops of many buildings without missing a single detail. Unfortunately, it starts to dully rain and thunder loudly. In reaction to the gloomy weather, she grabs her umbrella seemingly out of nowhere, and it's already opened up. She continues to scan until she sees movement on a rooftop directly ahead, northeast. The vigilante narrows her scope of hearing to the rooftop, hearing every footstep and breath on it.

Six people come to the roof of the thirty-story tall building, three people from one rooftop entrance and another three from the opposite entrance. They stand about twenty-five feet from each other on the rooftop with firearms at their sides. The two sides wear the same black military-like uniforms and ski masks covering their faces. They all stand quietly and motionless as if they were props. The vigilante then senses more people below inside heading up to the building's top floor.

She could then sense a presence she had never felt before. This person, if to be even considered human, carries an aura. They have a personal atmosphere where the air is tightened, condensed, and weighty, making it difficult to sustain life in their radius. Filled with the emotions of painful yet pleasuring suffering and hate. It can be assumed that any man, woman, or child standing close to this individual over some time would either go mad or die. This is not a presence that can simply be acquired or attained; this is something this individual must have been born with. An individual born as the product of the apogee, the acme, the absolute pinnacle of humanity's evil, Hassen.

Hassen makes his way to the top floor. The building has roof windows, which allow the vigilante to directly see inside, thus able to see the target. Hassen wears an all-black outfit and gear, a tad outdated in military wear, covering every part of his body. Except his face is covered with a white gas mask. The building's purpose has yet to be known, explaining why every floor is empty, spacious, and dark. Yet Mute is able to see her target perfectly with her exceptional eyes.

Whether her target is about to have a meeting or a ritual does not matter to her. Her objective is to eliminate. Mute finally stands up, and immediately, as she can see through the roof's window, Hassen looks right at her. The dark red lens of his mask glows in the dark as they glare directly above, directly facing the vigilante. With the two looking and sensing each other's presence, it was time. Mute's eyes turn from glowing silver to complete darkness, darker than any dye or pigment could create. She then leaps off the edge far into the sky and then into a freefall. She positions herself mid-air, falls through the building's window, and comes down with a high kick aiming for her target's head. As she busts through the window, lighting strikes miles away. Its light makes it over and flashes through the room, highlighting the two in action. Her kick is blocked by Hassen's left forearm. The kick was heavy, and if it had landed on any other forearm, it would have likely broken through. Yet Hassen did not budge or show any sign of struggle. He then swings the same arm he used to block with, pushing the vigilante away from him.

Mute floats in the air until landing in Olympic-level acrobatic fashion. Her left leg is severely fractured, yet it does not hurt or affect her. She then takes a quick and close look at him. He's tall, but his posture makes him look even taller, the size of two people standing on top of each other. His soldiers in the room either collapsed or were on their way down. They were not capable of maintaining on their own two feet amongst the two dominating auras before them. Mute dashes towards Hassen, closing the distance with speeding ferocity. Hassen stands his ground with his left arm still out.

As she gets closer, her right arm goes up, and as lightning strikes again, a sword the length of a meter stick appears in her hand. The blade is black and has creases on its surface. It's shaped like a meter stick with its slender rectangular prism shape, but its edges, excluding its handle, are miraculously sharp. Once Hassen sees this weapon, he immediately slides out his knife that was stored in his left sleeve; it's of the same material. On the cue of the lightning's flash, their weapons then clash, starting off a new era, alas.

[07:42, 4/11/2040, A Month Later]

Denarrow B. Ace has pale white skin, a mixture of Axian and Uropean caucasian facial characteristics, and short messy thick black hair. His body beneath plain clothes looks average and pretty fit from the outside. At first glance to many he's a dashing young man, probably even a playboy to some. He wears a black long-sleeve shirt and white jogging pants, his usual outfit but currently his only one. His journey to the city deprived him of all his resources due to his exceptionally poor decision-making and planning skills. Resources include clothes, hygienic items, and a few other things. Aside from some setbacks, he reached the city without trouble, albeit with little food or water and one extra pair of clothes. Well, close to reaching the city.

He stopped by a small diner. The diner is called Violetta Sweets, and it's located in the city of Violetta. A city on the edges of the big city, the city Ace is heading for. In the red-and-white old-timers' diner, Ace sits at the bar, eating as if his heart and stomach has no limit. He's the only customer leaving the only few employees to watch something so… preternatural. He ate everything given to him, and he's been eating for over an hour without a break or stop. Finally, the employee behind the counter looks at him and says something.

Dino- "Oi, you gonna end up paying for all dat? Right?"

Ace, mid chewing, pulls out his toy-looking wallet, puts out five-hundred urodollars on the counter, and then goes right back into eating his food.

Dino- 'I didn't mean right now. And that might go over what you have to pay anyways.'

Ace continues to eat and then points at the menu. The bartender looks at where he's pointing, seeing item number four.

Dino- "Ok then. Want a drink with that?"

Ace nods yes.

Dino- "Are you not full at all? You're not overeating? No ambulance is needed?"

He was finally done chewing.

Denarrow- "I haven't eaten in twenty-one days."

He has a relaxed and monotonous voice but a simple direct tone representing seriousness. His face can also be described this way. Though handsome, his eyes are sleepily half-opened. Along with a constant stoic facial expression, he naturally looks unconcerned with everything else.

Dino- "Twenty-one days?" 'Possibly an overreaction. He looks healthier than my grandson. But he definitely hungry.' "Why you ain't been eating then?"

Denarrow- "I wanted to wait until I came to Midcity."

Dino- "Traveler then. Well you're not in Midcity yet."

Denarrow- "Huh?"

Dino- "If you go up the street heading north, you'd reach the wall and enter through the southern entrance."

Just by opening his eyes entirely, he appears in shock.

Denarrow- "Shit."

Dino- "Wasn't that your pet outside? They seem to be takin him away."

Ace quickly looks back, seeing a truck about ready to drive off. He looks back at the bartender and runs out of the diner, taking his backpack with him. Once he gets outside, the animal control truck is already gone. He turns to the right trying to find the car, but it's nowhere in sight up and down the street. However, he would've seen it if he initially looked left on the road on the other side of the diner. Unfortunately, by the time he looked the other way, it was already too late as the truck went too far, speeding back to animal jail.

Denarrow- "Oh well, he'll be fine."

He said that with little enthusiasm; however, deep down, he knew he would see Christopher again. So he turns the corner heading north without a worry on his mind. He looks up, seeing buildings three to ten times taller than the ones in Violetta. He looks down the street, seeing a cement wall at the end of it, acting as a gate for the many skyscrapers behind it.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Denarrow- 'She did tell me there was a wall, I forgot I guess.'

After eating the last few items at the diner, he then heads exits. Down the road he walks to the destination he originally embarked for, Midcity, UCA.

Midcity is home to at least an unbelievable one hundred million people. It was ranked just the year before to be the most populated city in the world. All of them are within a rectangular area of exactly two hundred thousand acres, thus making it the densest city in the world. Its vast size can be described solely by its hundreds of thousands of skyscrapers that are visibly seen just about everywhere. From above, it's an architectural utopia. On the ground, it's complex, and the vast quantities and qualities of urban structure/infrastructure further highlight the city's overall modern architectural design. Underground, there is even a deeper story to be told.

The concrete jungle sits in the middle of nowhere like an eye-popping oasis. 'Nowhere' means the North Amerigan plains, the 'midwest,' and the thousands of farmlands that dominate the region. The city and around it has no geographic features. It's all naturally flat for a hundred miles every which way. No lakes, rivers, oceans, valleys, or mountains. The city stands two-hundred-fifty miles west of the Missississi River and Kansis City. The metropolis resides in the state of Kansis; however, it is technically surrounded by Kansis, a slight but integral difference because Midcity itself is its own commonwealth, one of the fifty-five commonwealths of the United Commonwealth of Ameriga. It became one of the many city-states worldwide, but it was the first one of many today to be in the western hemisphere.

Midcity is widely popular, known for its peculiar city shape being a rectangle with its short sides facing north and south. Its four-sided borders are defined by the forty-foot high concrete wall, with few multiple entry and exit checkpoints. Looking from above, the city overall looks like a deformed star. Regardless, the walls can be visibly noticeable outlining Midcity. Smaller cities like Violetta branch off from Midcity and are built on the sides and corners of the wall. 'Outskirt cities' is what they are called, and they formally reside in the state of Kansis, leaching off Midcity's robust economy.

Ace goes through the wall's southern checkpoint. During the war, entering and exiting through the checkpoints required permission. Today, the city only requires those with particular qualifications to leave while entering is entirely free, like in any other city. Once he gets past the gate, he steps onto the city's sidewalks and sees a view that goes far beyond whatever his home state of Alazka ever had. People can be seen anywhere and everywhere going about their day. Whether homeless, white-collar, or wealthy, everyone is busy doing something. Noises and smells are just as abundant and diverse. Going through the wall, it was like entering a different reality. Violetta is busy, but it does not come close in comparison. It seems the walls were keeping the flavors of the city locked behind.

He took a small tour around the southwestern side of the city, looking at the seemingly endless amount of buildings around him. In Alazka, the tallest building was 30 floors; here, that same building would be below average. Not only does the quantity of buildings and people capture his gaze, but the amount of technology and advanced vehicles that are numerically present. Advertisements move in the sky, hanging on cables, and the streets are part cement and part flatscreen screens displaying stop signs, lanes, or paid promotions. All driven vehicles are fairly silent, modernized, and powered by electricity, not typical gas.

As he goes further north and the sun rises to the middle of the sky, he finds less futurization exiting the core downtown area. But nonetheless, still absolute modern urbanization. Nothing could compare to the completely flat, empty farmland he had walked through to get here or the rocky nature-riched land where he had lived for years. The lights, the buildings, the people, everything is utterly different in comparison.

It is also a lovely day out to be in the city. It isn't too hot, nor is it too cold. The sun shines overhead with few clouds in the light blue sky. Ace can't get used to being unable to look at the sky whenever he wants to, with looking directly up being the only option. Towering skyscrapers block the view of the sun for most of the day from the street-level point of view. Even looking straight up doesn't guarantee the view of the sun or sky. Skybridges between two or more buildings are common. With barely any sky or the sun's light, much of the ground level is under a constant shadow. Yet everything is still visible thanks to the billions of lights up and down every street and building. The city's lighting is something of a minor but significant difference that Ace points out. Coming from a background of living in open-ended nature for most of his life, the sun's relevance in this environment has been reduced. He now has to get used to depending on artificial light from now on.

The people of Midcity are something else. Ace does not find anything out of the ordinary that can't be found in any urban setting. There are the suit-and-ties, middle-class workers, small two to four-person families, those in a hurry, 'regulars,' the tourists, the homeless, and the miscellaneous people. Yet there are millions of them. Crosswalks are never empty, most stores have service, and on every block, you're bound to overhear a conversation, a vocal promotion, or someone trying to entertain for a dollar with an attraction like music.

While waiting on the corner of a street, he sees a poster on a pole right above an old wanted poster. The sign stands out with its art displaying a building with colonial-style architecture and bright colors. He begins to read it.

The Holladay Hostel | Cheap Prices | +55, -50 | Le…

The poster is quite old, with some of it either ripped or faded off. Ace takes the poster, which was magnetically attached to the pole at its corner, folds it sloppily, and stuffs it in his pocketlike bag of candy. He looks up, seeing the sky darker than it was before the last he looked up.

Denarrow- 'I've been wasting too much time, I should make it to theMcRC soon. She told me the line gets long.'

He goes around asking random people where the McRC is, but he finds out rather quickly that nobody is really receptive, and they all mind their own business. Some people gave vague directions, while others thought he was offering drugs. It isn't totally everyone else's fault. Ace is relatively bad at comprehending and memorizing directions himself. Adding onto the fact he's not familiar with how the city works as a structural organization either. He gets desperate and asks a half-asleep man who appears homeless but is given a half-moaned half, worded response. The homeless man, in frustration, calls out the numbers ‘negative one-sixty-four and negative one-forty-six’ and goes back to sleep afterward. Ace had heard multiple responses in the form of those numbers already, yet he was still confused about what they meant.

[15:08]

After nearly five hours, he picked up more than a couple of clues, but they didn't help him enough. It was until he simply looked at a public interactive city map presented on a flat screen that led him to Midicity Registration Center. Such screens are posted on just about every street corner (exclusively a downtown commodity). He figured out there were buttons on the side screen, similar to older versions of television screens, and began pressing them, which caused the map to pause its idle movement and zoom in, zoom out, and rotate to his liking. Surprisingly, many people, especially tourists, don't know about interactive screens. He put the place in the search bar and it gave him mildly helpful directions.

Inside the building, he stands in front of the McRC ticket dispenser pressing the button multiple times for it to give him a ticket. In Midcity, everyone must have an Identification card and Personal Code (equivalents to a social security number and identification number) specialized by the McRC. It's essential because if anyone wants to own or rent a property and/or work in Midcity, a McID and McPC will allow them to do so. These laws and rules depend on every year or so. Many of them are politically debated, including the core concept itself. The major flaw that about everyone can agree on is the number of Midcity Registration Centers there are. Midcity is divided into four electoral districts equivalent to the quadrants on a mathematical X and Y graph. In each of the four quadrants, there is only one McRC. The number of McRCs to population ratio is so disproportionate that it leads to long lines and waiting times for the people. Additionally, the state decided to combine the DMV with the McRC in the year 2020; some of these lines have gone into the worldwide record books.

After pressing the button multiple times, he finally gets a ticket. However, he thought the machine was broken, but it's actually slow when printing tickets. After he leaves, twenty-four tickets come out. Ace didn't read the warning label on the machine, warning that it was a slow printer. Nonetheless, he candidly doesn't notice and probably would not care about the wastage and walks away with his ticket.

Denarrow- '4,444.'

He looks up at a digital display on the wall displaying the current number that is being serviced as of right now.

2002

Seeing a number so far from his own, his first thought is sleep. He is mentally exhausted after being on the move for ten days straight.

Denarrow- 'If my nap takes a little too long, I could miss the chance when it's my turn to go up. A risk I'll have to take then.'

Only ten people are working behind the desks, and each employee has at least a couple hundred customers to service. The building isn't big either, sizing up to a small street grocery/liquor store, and it's only two floors, with only one open to the public. But to his surprise, there aren't too many people waiting inside. This is a situation he questions; how are there more than two thousand people ahead of him in line if there aren't even twenty people in this place? Nonetheless, he finds and sits on an uncomfortable but empty-looking couch.

Denarrow- 'I guess this will have to do for now.'

He sits in the middle of the couch and observes his surroundings. The bright light, loud air conditioner, clicking sounds of keyboards, and weirdly quiet atmosphere make him completely bored. His phone is dead, a device that most people use to distract themselves from boredom; thus, he suffers. He looks at the digital clock on the wall and then relaxes on the uncomfortable furniture spreading his legs open. He purposely yawns, and it takes just less than a couple minutes until he goes to sleep.

[22:40]

He wakes up seven hours later due to loud sirens outside. He looks around, seeing the place is even more crowded, He now has two bigger people sitting on the sides of him, squishing him in, making it all the more uncomfortable. He sees the current number, 2,890, realizing he has to wait in the form of at least one or two more naps. Unfortunately, he is no longer tired.

Denarrow- 'At this pace I have to stay here overnight and into the morning.'

He looks around again, not at the people but at his environment.

Denarrow- 'Now that I think about it, no sign has told me that I couldn't leave. And the thousands of people ahead of me aren't even here. There’s only a max of about forty anyways. So I'll leave just come back later.'

He stands up, stretches, and walks out of the building. After being inside for so long, he steps outside into the nightlife of Midcity.

Denarrow- 'Damn, why is it so bright?'

Everything glows, the buildings, the white and yellow lane stripes on the street, and the street lights are brighter than they were during the day. After momentarily adjusting his eyes, he stuffs his hands in his pants pockets and walks down the sidewalk looking around.