Traffic silently swished by far above them. Buses, personal vehicles, and trucks. There was no wind

to reach them. It was warm, but not too much so. Just the perfect weather ordained by the city's

climate control centres. Night slowly approached.

“Where are you from, boy?” the grey-skinned man asked.

“Shut up and give me your creds,” the boy said, repeating himself.

The boy cautiously looked around as he held his gun pointed at the grey man. Just in case someone

showed up on the empty bridge they were on. The boy, with blue skin, and a hood over his face,

held his hand steady.

“I don't have any hard creds on me. But I can give you something far more valuable.”

“Shut up and transfer.”

The boy reached out his wrist, which had a gilded bracelet on it, a personal computer. The bracelet

was activated and showed a holographic funds transfer screen. The man did not move.

“You will survive for fifty more days with what I have left in my account. Or you could live

a lifetime with what I have inside my head,” the man said.

“Listen, shit face. I can do this with you alive, or I can just transfer from you dead.”

“That is not how the tech works.”

“Screw how the tech works! Maybe I messed with the tech and now it works as I wish it to!”

“Listen to me, kid. You can either squeeze that trigger and end me now or you can hear me

out.”

“Hear what out? What is your soon to be broke ass going to say that will magic away my

gun from your face?”

“I know who you are. I have been where you are. Holding the gun. Just waiting for the next

day so I can die by someone else's bullet. I know you are just a gunman waiting for the next text to

off someone. I know all this crap because I have been there, in your age.”

“So what? You get a free pass because you're from the slums?”

“No free passes in this life, my boy. You see the towers around us?”

“Yeah I live in their shitty shadow. One last time, transfer or I will blow your brains over the

railing.”

“I transfer, and then you lower the gun and hear me out? Okay?”

“You transfer and then I'm off to the next mark. Okay?”

The boy once again looked behind him, and noticed a single police officer coming their way. He

had stood in such a way, that the officer had not noticed the gun. The boy lowered his weapon and

held it by his side, underneath his coat.

“You say one wrong word, and I end you and the officer,” the boy said.

The officer came closer and looked at the pair.

“Fine evening, sirs,” the officer said as he walked by.

The boy nodded and the grey man smiled.

The officer continued for a bit, but then stopped. He looked back at the boy.

“Your face, I have seen it somewhere,” the officer said and put one hand on the side of his

belt, where his sidearm was.

The boy moved slightly, beginning to raise his pistol. But the grey man grabbed his shoulder.

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

“He's from the local slums, part of a choir there, maybe you've watched them sing?” the grey

man intervened.

“That's right, I always watch the different choirs from the slums. Even have the Therseia

Helper's Insignia around my neck.” The officer grabbed the insignia and showed them. “What

brings you out here, anyway?”

“I am teaching the kid about the towers.” The grey man said.

The officer looked baffled.

“Oh, well you have a nice evening then, sirs,” he said and walked away.

The boy looked at the grey man.

“I give you five minutes,” the boy said.

“How long do you think it took to build those towers?” the man asked.

“Hell if I know, but with today's tech you can have a building like that up in one day, I have

seen the vids.”

“How old is our civilisation?”

“What is it with these janky ass questions, man?”

“My point is, it did not take one day to build those towers. It did not take one day to build

this city. It took millions upon millions of years. Just as your ancestors have survived to produce

you. You are the by-product of a billion year old lineage. You are the best of the best, premium

quality flesh. Whether you live in the slums or on a villa atop of the towers, you've survived natural

selection up to this point. That is one hell of an achievement.”

The boy stood silent.

“I campaigned in Osilgatz, I saw brothers and sisters torn to pieces from cannon fire. I

witnessed their mangled bodies in heaps of flesh and metal. I've seen the destruction we humans

and sapients are capable of. Just as I have seen the beauty before us now. And the beauty of nature.

Forests as tall as these towers. Grass fields of pure blue balsam. This world is bigger than us, boy.

This world is bigger than hate and love. This world both needs us and does not. What you do in life,

both matters and does not. I don't know it all but I have seen much and I can tell you more. I am

five thousand years old and I plan on living tomorrow. How about you?”

“Alright old man, you have my ear. But I am still pointing this at you.” the boy said and

continued to hold his gun underneath his coat.

“What's your name?” the man asked.

“Andrez.”

“I am Desantim De Santiar. And I can tell you this. You can outrun your enemies, your

bosses, your loves, your hates. But never for long. Wherever you go, you will have all those things

again, perhaps in different shapes and forms, but they will always be there. What matters is how

you approach them. What you do with your time. How you sow is how you live. Invest in yourself,

your skills, your knowledge.”

“My skills to rob marks of their creds?”

“No, Andrez. The skills you don't know you have yet because you have never tried them.

You can be more than the gun. Even if it is difficult and a pain in the back. I can help teach you.

Hand me the gun to start with.”

“You crazy? No way. My bosses will find me and kill me.”

“Perhaps. But will you live under their rule for the rest of your likely short life? Or will you

take your destiny by your own volition? What do you really want in life, Andrez? Quick money and

fancy cars? Some girl that is too scared to say no? All these things will lead to an untimely death

and a waste of a life.”

“So what is your magic solution then?”

“I don't have one. I just want you off the street. And it has to be your solution, not mine.

There are programs, and if they fail, I exist. You can live with me, I will teach you new skills. Get

you an education. But you must want it all.”

“An edu-freaking-cation. What magic talk. You think I have the head for that?”

“Maybe not now, but you can make your head for that.”

“You are funny. Insulting your robber, instilling life goals, telling them all will be swell.”

“I never said it would be all swell, it will likely be the opposite. Long hours of menial work,

days where you want to give up and grab the gun again. Few things are easy.”

“What about my past? Maybe I have killed some folks. Done some bad stuff.”

“Then you will need to face that. One way to do it, is prison. Another way is to work well in

society, and pay a percentage of your income to the superstate's victim fund every year. Whatever

you do, your conscience will be your greatest enemy as you develop it further.”

“You know a lot about that, huh, old man, Desantim?”

“I've been where you've been. Will you put the gun down?”

“I holstered it a few seconds ago.”

“So, listen carefully. There are many ways out of this. How we do it, is the important factor.

No more killings. No more blood. You get a new identity, I can sort that out. A new home, it won't

be fancy, but it will be away from your bosses. You will need to work everyday to improve yourself,

you will go to school, you will learn things. And you will need to want to do these things, that's

what's most important. If you don't want it, I can't help you.”

“Man, that's hard.”

“We will figure this out, Andrez. Let's go home.”

The pair turned and started walking away on the bridge.

“So you some kind of super soldier? Five thousand years? That's an eternity.”

“It's a breeze.”

“By the way, I only had one bullet left in the gun.”

“I was never scared of the gun. I could have taken it from you at several points.”

“Bullshit.”

“You think what you want to think, Andrez. We're starting something new with your life.”

“If my bosses let me survive.”

“I have a feeling it will turn out alright.”