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3/24/2025, 3:05:02 AM
CLANG! A fizzling sound fills the air, and you smell something sharp and chemical.
"USER [PRIVACY REDACTION], YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF A CITY 87-O SERVITOR INSTANCE."
Peeking out from behind a dumpster, you catch sight of a figure rounding the corner. He flings something small onto a nearby roof as his feet skid on the rough road, before righting himself and breaking into a full sprint. As he comes closer, your eyes meet for a brief moment. The young man is holding a gun in his hand, held low and with visual artifacts clustered around the muzzle. The servitors emerge moments after he passes you.
His illegal packet-gun fires several more times in quick succession, tearing into the AI programs with bits of malicious code. They crackle and turn red as their textures are disrupted, with even the wireframe beneath bending apart. His rebellion is short-lived, however. A syringe darts out from the extended arm of a hovering robot, jabbing into his hitbox and pausing him in his tracks. You watch as his face freezes into a defiant expression, one arm still outstretched with his finger on the trigger. The servitors crowd around him, generating a pod to store their attacker in. It doesn't take long, and soon enough he's on his way to the tower for whatever fate awaits him. His weapon is seized by the bots, ensuring that there's no useful data left behind for you to salvage.
What a thing to witness. You stay in the dumpster for a while, waiting for the bots to make their exit. You haven't done anything wrong, but you just don't want the trouble of becoming a witness to this unusual occurence. The AIs are stern about keeping the peace outwardly, even if they're completely oblivious to the undercurrent of dissatisfaction spreading throughout the populace.
A quick refresh of your avatar gets rid of the generic smell and dirt. Not like the dumpster is really used for trash anyway. You still feel the psychological need to shower after immersing yourself in it, so you begin making the trek home. Before you get far, a beep stirs you from your idle thoughts, and already high-strung from the day's events, you whirl around and raise your fists.
"USER [PRIVACY REDACTION], YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF A CITY 87-O SERVITOR INSTANCE."
Peeking out from behind a dumpster, you catch sight of a figure rounding the corner. He flings something small onto a nearby roof as his feet skid on the rough road, before righting himself and breaking into a full sprint. As he comes closer, your eyes meet for a brief moment. The young man is holding a gun in his hand, held low and with visual artifacts clustered around the muzzle. The servitors emerge moments after he passes you.
His illegal packet-gun fires several more times in quick succession, tearing into the AI programs with bits of malicious code. They crackle and turn red as their textures are disrupted, with even the wireframe beneath bending apart. His rebellion is short-lived, however. A syringe darts out from the extended arm of a hovering robot, jabbing into his hitbox and pausing him in his tracks. You watch as his face freezes into a defiant expression, one arm still outstretched with his finger on the trigger. The servitors crowd around him, generating a pod to store their attacker in. It doesn't take long, and soon enough he's on his way to the tower for whatever fate awaits him. His weapon is seized by the bots, ensuring that there's no useful data left behind for you to salvage.
What a thing to witness. You stay in the dumpster for a while, waiting for the bots to make their exit. You haven't done anything wrong, but you just don't want the trouble of becoming a witness to this unusual occurence. The AIs are stern about keeping the peace outwardly, even if they're completely oblivious to the undercurrent of dissatisfaction spreading throughout the populace.
A quick refresh of your avatar gets rid of the generic smell and dirt. Not like the dumpster is really used for trash anyway. You still feel the psychological need to shower after immersing yourself in it, so you begin making the trek home. Before you get far, a beep stirs you from your idle thoughts, and already high-strung from the day's events, you whirl around and raise your fists.
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