You're running through the low-caste area of the city. Being a runner, you entered the forbidden territory, and now being pursued by the police. At another turn you feel someone swiftly grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the gap between the houses. You're chest to chest with a young man. He put a finger on his lips, signing to be silent.

"Just don't move." He whispers, holding you by the shoulder.

Judjing by his attire he must be a runner too. Maybe he helps you out of solidarity?..