From Shrimp Boy to Slapjack: System Activated

Chaos Minded

The sterile morning light felt like an accusation, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the airless room. I stared out the window, the cityscape a cold, uncaring reflection of the hollow feeling gnawing at me. John Cook was gone, the remaining power players had consolidated, and Zephyr, with her chilling laughter, reigned supreme.

The city, once a spark in my chest, a yearning for a brighter future, now felt like a distant memory. My attempts to change it, to manipulate the system from within, had only revealed a deeper, more horrifying truth: the game was rigged.

The discordant melody within me, once a hopeful counterpoint, had morphed into a single, cynical note. "Don't care," it blared, a monotonous echo in the sterile silence. What was the point of fighting a world that couldn't be broken? A world that devoured idealism and spat out disillusionment?

Zephyr's words, "your skills may be of use," hung heavy in the air, an unwelcome invitation. But a new melody began to weave itself