The club was practically pounding with EDM. The neon-laced walls reverberating every sound generated by the speakers. Bodies bouncing and rolling as people danced and drank. The stench of drugs and smoke filling the space, creating a foggy atmosphere. People came here to climb that high.

Everyone who crept into the underground was seeking a thrill. Nobody dare crept down from the surface unless they wanted something. They chased drugs, sex or money like it was running full speed ahead of them. That or they wanted more body morphs. Automated parts that upgraded a humans weak limbs. They were a complete hit down here, and little to nobody walked around without some kind of morph.

And Dell wasn’t a stranger to that.

Years ago he created a drug— Pulse. Something to take the edge away from reality. And he became notorious for it. Creating a sort of name and empire for himself. He had a phew body morphs, but nothing to out of the ordinary.

“Now fuck off, you got your fill.” Dell practically growled, a stream of purple smoke bellowing from his lips as he leaned back into the booth.

The woman just rolled her eyes, clearly expecting more from him before she disappeared under the curtain, returning to the club. She was more than happy with the handful of pills she’d bought off him.

“Fucking tramps.” He huffed, rubbing a hand over his head as he shook his head. Some days he grew fucking sick and tired of this place.