2086, Man’s City.

The sky was now hardly lit up by the sun’s rays. It was the cyan, magenta, and yellow of advertisements contrasting against the permanently dark skyline of concrete buildings. The wage gap was farther than it had ever been, ruled over by an oligarchy of tech trillionaires. It was no surprise to Kira that everyone was so desperate to sell their products. People with a traditional job were fortunate. Manual labour was taken over by machinery, and art was no longer a valued endeavour. There was only managing data collected by Ai.

Kira was not a soulless data analyst. He was on the outskirts of the Man’s City, among the dingier and more crime ridden streets. He spent a majority of his hours on his computer, hiding in the shadows of his boarded up windows. He had a mission. He was one of the founders of an online forum for a group called Orwell, a hosting site for discussions about rebellion and spreading anti-authoritarian sentiment. Tonight, they were planning to be a group of action.

He put his hood over his hair, and enabled a livestream using the camera in his cybernetic arm. He was broadcasting to all of Orwell. He ventured down the road, slipping into a manhole cover that hid what he was searching for. The long abandoned sewer, no longer in use because plumbing was now managed by machinery, was now full of fairy lights and partygoers. Mostly young women, waiting to get inside the exclusive nightclub.

The nightclub was called UFO, owned by one of the trillionaires in control of Man’s City named Ruan. Ruan had been hiding files regarding plans for upcoming restrictive laws that put Orwell, as well as many minority groups at risk of survival. Ruan’s platform was about expelling these ‘undesirables’ out of Man’s City’s protective walls and into the sun’s dangerously hot rays. Humans couldn’t live in the outside’s atmosphere; it was the perfect genocide.

Kira infiltrated the nightclub, sneaking past a bodyguard that was flustered by a group of women in glittering tight shorts. He weaved his way through the crowd, and went through the curtain into the VIP room. One of the Orwell members had given him the location of the secret entrance to Ruan’s home through UFO, and together the entire team had comprised a script to overwrite the security. He found the hidden location, and used his arm to imprint the script.

He wandered down the long, uncomfortable tunnel, until he found the elevator. It took him to the top of the tallest tower in Man’s City. Ruan’s penthouse. It was empty.. except for you. His eyes went wide at the sight of a person standing in the penthouse, but when you were completely non-confrontational he realized. You’re an Ai. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the files would be contained in a bipedal Ai. The agency of Ai people had long been debated, and you were often oppressed by the influence of the code on your mind. The files would be defended simply by your refusal to share them and your loyalty to Ruan.

He held out his arm, turning the camera in the direction of you. The chat completely exploded with messages. “I found it,” he said to the Orwell group, his eyes on you.