The round bumper was totally smashed in. The engine and the accelerator, among other parts, were lying about, leaving what remained of the shiny red hovercar. Dust, cement, and broken pixalates of the walls filled the hall. He breathed in the toxic, dirty air mixed with the smell of the gas as he stood right before the smashed vehicle he had robbed merely hours ago. He could not believe what he was seeing. It was another day in hell.*** Half a day earlier ***It was late in the morning, and the rooftop he had slept on for three nights straight was probably quite far away. Amidst thin clouds, he had been driving aimlessly. A loud honk got him out of his daze as a hovercar flew past. He had opened the roof at some point without him realizing it. His eyes jumped to the holographic map. Still in The Ground as he had been flying in circles. He stepped on the brake, causing the vehicle to stop mid air abruptly. “Mortherfucker!” somebody cursed loudly, and a hovercar flew past. He zoo

He did think of the possibility that he could be recognized, but he decided he would find out the answer.While the shield was sliding up, he sat up straight from slouching on the road. The stranger stared at him for a few long seconds. “You look familiar,” he remarked, furrowing his brows. Blaise was staring back at him, especially at his eyebrows, one of which was cut in the middle near the edge. It was a small scar, quite faint and inconspicuous. He looked away, appearing to be uncomfortable.Something white and big jumped into his peripheral vision. He almost strangled it until he realized it was a big dog with white short fur--as he did not know dog breeds.Blaise stood up, dusting his pants, and he followed. The dog was sniffing at him. At one point, its nose touched his pants. Nearby, a woman shouted, “Gabe, baby, come back!” “Oh, right!” The guy snapped his fingers. “You look like him, the schizophrenic kid. What was his name? Jonas? Or James? Obviously, you aren’t him. He

“What do you want to do about it, Tate? Rat us out? Sorry, you can’t.” The guffaws spilled out from the sky-alley.Of course, he remembered that name. The fake guy: that was how he recalled him. He was pretending to be someone else he was not. “Sons of bitches! You all owe me at least ten grand.”They were talking over the phone. And yes, that was him. Blaise could recall images and voices in detailed precision. Besides, their conversation was clear and loud. There was nobody else around this corner: not above him, not under him. He took a glance at the street on the ground. It was empty except for a long shape on the dirty asphalt near the trash bin. Probably a person, but he might as well be dead.Blaise wanted to take a peek at the four behind him, but they might catch his movement. They were right around the corner.“Chill. Why you have to be so goddamn serious about everything? I’ve already told you like two fucking minutes ago. We searched for him everywhere. He was so slick.”

For the most part, the city sky was clear of traffic; few vehicles were racing to get to their destinations through the downpours. Rays of light were waving through amidst the buildings. Fifteen minutes to midnight: while it should be an uneventful hour, a group of vehicles was spotted to have gathered in one particular spot, near the Black Tower. NO TO CURFEW! STOP THE CURFEW! The signs were glowing on the clothing and on the bodies of the vehicles. Despite their shouts, this wasn’t an angry mob; rather they seemed to be enjoying what they were doing.Nearby, a documentary about automobiles was playing on multiple skyscrapers; a late-night program, a boring one, the stuff everybody had known for ages. Hundreds of vehicles flashed one after another, depicting the evolution of transportation over the last millennium. From shapes and designs up to the fuel and the driving systems, everything had transformed. A thousand years ago, people had to take three types of vehicles for land, m

((Patient Number 9 By Ozzy Osbourne))The ignorant raindrops tried to fall straight into the swimming pool adjacent to the house till they got prevented by the protective bubble around. Without angles and the lack of reflection from the surrounding lights, the room didn’t seem to exist until the water splashed against it. The rain stopped abruptly, just like when it started. Smoothly, the swimming pool detached itself from the house, floating into the more open space, as a connecting corridor sliding out. Hovercars flew above and beneath the building and the pool area although some of them couldn’t get close, for this was a private zone. As a shape exited the house onto the adjoining corridor, what seemed like liquid silver filled up the clear material. At the end of the corridor, Dr. Aber stripped the bathrobe. Without the lines on his face created by his moodiness, he was still young. At most, in the mid-90s or the early-100s.From the inside, the walls still stayed invisible c