//------------------------------//
// Part 1 
// Story: Manhattan Ballad 
// by ObCom 
//------------------------------//

The city only came alive when the sun went down.  Lights projected from the windows and signs, covering everything in greens, blues, and reds. People walked to and fro, either making their way to the next bar or going home with their chosen partners. In the darkest corners, where the neon lights fell short, prostitutes patrolled in synthetic leathers and thieves were looking for an easy target. Music poured out of the clubs, calling out to those on the streets as a safe harbor against the turbulent nightlife.
From block to block, each scene was the same, and Vinyl relished in it. She walked down the sidewalk, eyes hidden behind her trademark goggles. A month ago, she would be walking the other way, towards whatever dive that would give her money to play music. Now, she headed into a better part of town. The air smelled cleaner, and everyone got out of her way. Word had spread fast that she was employed by the illusive man called Bass Leader, the man who ran the CyberLine club. Even though Vinyl had never seen him in person, any sort of association with the man was enough to make people think before getting in your way. Now, watching people subtly shift to the side to let her through, Vinyl could not repress a wide grin. When she came in sight of her new place of employment, she let out a low whistle. 
The CyberLine club was massive. The front was a mix of glass, which let people see the party inside, and screens, which usually showed some sort of abstract design or Bass Leader’s face. Vinyl had to wonder how people could have fun when they were being scrutinized by the giant, neon bald man. Nevertheless, the line was full of people who were ready to party, even though some of them looked like they had been dragged along. Vinyl couldn’t blame those who didn’t want to be there. The CyberLine was infamous for catering to those with fat bank accounts. Although the cost was steep, the entertainment, and the drinks, made the experience worthwhile. Vinyl pushed through the line, not caring about the person’s foot she stepped on. She gave a nod to the bouncer and went in. 
Vinyl felt her bones shaking from the music. Whoever had set up the sound system must have thought that the louder the song was, the more people would enjoy it. Vinyl would have agreed if they hadn’t played the worst song she had ever heard. Holy Empress, how did this club keep afloat without me? She wondered and walked to the edge of the dance floor. The dancers were in a flashing, neon colored pit below, and Vinyl leaned onto the rail to look up. On each of the four floors, she saw people drinking, dancing, talking, and if she really wanted to look there was bound to be some people who couldn’t wait to get to a hotel. No one else seemed to notice the terrible music, or maybe they just didn’t care. After all, it was noise with an unmistakable beat, and that was all anyone ever wanted. But just because the people had low standards didn’t mean Vinyl had to put up with it. She looked at the clock displayed in her goggles and made her way to the vacant DJ booth. 
She fought the urge to turn off the sad excuse for music while she was setting up. But if she did that, she would kill the party, and that would lead to people leaving because they couldn’t grind on someone with a beat. So Vinyl gritted her teeth and turned on the booth, watching the little lights activate and start to spin. In the meantime, Vinyl removed her gloves and activated her augments. Her fingertips were soon glowing blue and her ocular implants, along with her goggles, allowed her to see a bright mixing table in front of her. With her table in place, she adjusted the little neon lights so that they captured the outline of the table. The lights were purely cosmetic. To Vinyl, the mixing table was visible and she could interact with it due to her augments, but others could not. The lights only helped people see what she was doing, if they wanted to watch her perform. Now that she was set, Vinyl took off her olive green hoodie and turned on the microphone. 
“How’s it goin’, CyberLine? Everyone havin’ a good time? Of course you are. So let’s make it better by getting rid of this crap and let’s get on with some real music!” The crowd cheered, and Vinyl’s grin grew. Now that she was listening to something better, she was soon lost in the lights, the bass, the crowd… everything. 

Vinyl checked her clock once again and shook her head. She had been playing for six hours and as a result, she was drenched in sweat, her electric blue hair was plastered to her scalp, and she felt like she had just licked an outlet. Even though it had been a long set, part of her wanted to keep going. Who honestly cared about the morning anyway? But the time had come for her to stop and, not wanting to go home yet, she plopped down at the bar. An equal amount of water bottles and glasses surrounded her, and she was just about to stop when she felt a rough hand on her shoulder. In her time, Vinyl had felt all sorts of touches. This one said: the boss wants to see you. 
“Hey DJ, boss wants to see you.” The polite, deep voice managed to cut through the terrible music surprisingly well. Vinyl turned to see a muscular man wearing a black suit standing behind her. It wasn’t one of the normal bouncers, that was for sure. They all wore T-shirts and had visible muscle augments to look intimidating. Sure, the man in the suit was just as beefy looking, but he also had a different vibe. She felt like he was used to ordering people and getting his way. Vinyl thought of asking a few questions, but when she saw his stern expression, she thought better of it. She offered a smile and slid off of her stool. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the man spun smartly on his heel and was off. He’s pretty confident that I’ll follow, Vinyl thought. Part of her wanted to stay at the bar, but her feet were already moving. The man walked through the crowd, giving a firm push to anyone in his way. Vinyl heard more than a few drunken slurs as she followed. When they reached the backdoor, the man opened it and waved her in. Now that they were safe from public ears, Vinyl asked, “Alright, what does Ronny want this time?” 
“You’re not going to Ronny.”
Vinyl raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. If not Ronny, the low-down sack of shit manager that had interviewed her, then who? The gears in her brain turned when they reached an elevator she had never seen before. “You don’t mean…” 
“That’s right,” he said, gesturing towards the opened door. Vinyl’s nerves were starting to fray. She wracked her brain to find a reason, any reason, why someone like Bass Leader would want to see a DJ. The pictures of him on display didn’t invoke warm feelings of friendship. Now that Vinyl’s imagination was running wild, she thought that the club leader looked like a man who would put two shots in the back of her head and go play golf with his equally powerful and mysterious colleagues. She was trapped and the only way to go was forward. Her escort followed her in and pressed the button for the 5th floor. Vinyl watched the floor numbers light up. She was trying to get her thoughts under control, but nothing she did could cage the butterflies in her stomach. 
The doors parted to reveal an immense penthouse, covered in white furniture and marble floors. The escort took her past several glass sculptures of various animals, paintings that didn’t make any sense, and even the occasional bookcase. Vinyl was glad her eyes were hidden behind the goggles, but had to work on keeping her jaw clamped. Nothing could be worse than meeting Bass Leader with her mouth open in awe. They stopped in front of a padded, leather door, and even though it was a short walk, Vinyl’s nerves had fled at the sight of the decorations. Now, the escort knocked on the door and the butterflies burst out of their cage. Someone told her to enter and the man ushered her inside. 
Vinyl tried not to think about the door closing immediately after she walked through. A quick glance of the room revealed the same decorations as the rest of the penthouse, and beside herself, there was only one person. Before her stood the man she had only ever seen in projections, someone who, to the public eye, existed in name and image only. Bass Leader. He had his back turned to her as he looked down on the city, thankfully. Below, she could see the bright lights and thumping music slowly fading away. 
“Vinyl Scratch,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “I enjoyed your show tonight. Reminds me of one reason why I hired you.” 
“Thanks?” Vinyl asked. Only one reason? I guess my looks would be another. 
“Tell me, Ms. Scratch, have you been paying attention to the news lately? 
“Uh, not really, no. It’s only ever been the same thing over and over. Usually I only ever see the stuff aimed against the Empress and stuff,” Vinyl weakly shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. 
“That’s a shame. There has been an interesting topic as of late, if you have access to the right channels. Which I do.” He was still looking out of the window. Vinyl decided to focus on the back of his shaved head, which was faintly glowing with the outline of some sort of cranial augment. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she watched the little lights dance back and forth under his skin. “Ms. Scratch, do you follow any creed?” 
Vinyl didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she hadn’t been expecting religion. “Not really, no. I’ve got better things to do.” 
Bass Leader was silent for a moment. Vinyl was wondering if she had given the wrong answer when he said, “We are dying, Ms. Scratch. Humanity is taking its final breaths this very night.” 
“What do you mean?” Vinyl asked, skepticism lining her voice. 
“This night, a test was completed. The results are in. Do you remember the injection you had after you received your augments?”
“Yeah, the Shield. What, are you saying that has something to do with all this?” 
“Yes, Ms. Scratch. The Shield, for all of the changes it created for humanity, will be our downfall. It has made us sterile,” Bass Leader clenched his fists. Vinyl watched his scalp dance. 
Taking a deep breath, Vinyl said, “Alright, that sucks. So what now?” 
Bass Leader’s shoulders stiffened under his expensive suit. “I should have supposed you would not care too much.” Before Vinyl could be offended, he said, “You have received a few packages lately, all addressed to you even though you did not order them. You left them next to your door with the intention of opening them tomorrow. Do not bother. While you were working tonight, those packages were opened and installed.” 
Vinyl’s mind was reeling. She wanted to ask questions or, at the very least, say something intelligent. Her brain settled on, “Okay?” 
“Your apartment is now under protection by the best security money can buy,” Bass Leader said, ignoring her. “And now for the reason why I brought you here. Humanity’s fate will ultimately rest on the shoulders of those who are not augmented. This will most likely cause the Empress to do something drastic to keep her power. I have a daughter who is pure flesh and blood, and I do not want her to fall prey to the Empress’ dogs. You will take care of her during this crisis.”
“Let me get this straight,” Vinyl said. “People without augments are the future, and you happen to have a daughter who is one of them. Why are you sending her off with me? I’m just a DJ. Sure, I’m the best DJ around, but still. Couldn’t you send her to one of your managers’ houses or something?” 
Bass Leader shook his head. “If the Empress knows about my daughter, and she might, then it would be the obvious move to send her to someone I know. No, Ms. Scratch, if she is with you, she will just be a drop in an ocean. And if something does happen to her, well, I do not think I need to compare my resources to yours, do I?” Vinyl could hear the smirk on his lips, and even though he had a great point, that didn’t mean she liked it. 
Part of her wanted to burst out, to tear Bass Leader to shreds and laugh. She wanted to punch him in the back of his glowing, bald head. But that part was covered under the ice that had enveloped her. Vinyl was scared of the threat this man posed, and she found herself wanting to give him assurances that his daughter would be alright. Sure, boss, you can count on me! Would you like me to get you a hot towel while I’m at it?  
Bass Leader took her silence for the submission that it was. He called in the escort and Vinyl felt the rough hand lead her out of the office. She was thankful to get away. 

Vinyl had calmed down while she walked home. Now, standing in her apartment, she felt slightly disappointed. Doesn’t look like anything’s changed, Vinyl thought. She had been expecting some sort of fancy technology to be visible, but the empty boxes were the only indication that anything had happened. With a frown, Vinyl walked around the apartment again but found nothing. I’ll look for it later, she thought when her eyes fell on her couch. The long shift, as well as the meeting with Bass Leader, had left her drained. Pausing only to take off her goggles, Vinyl fell onto the couch and quickly fell asleep.

Her dreamless rest had been interrupted by two things. The sun poured through the curtains, and a single ray had made it its life mission to shine in her eyes. She also noticed that she smelled terrible, an impressive feat considering the amount of garbage on the floor. Holy Empress, I’m going to puke, she thought and rolled off the couch. Her shuffle to the shower would have been the envy of zombie actors everywhere. She stopped to tear her clothes off before standing on the shower tile. Sensing her presence, the shower head nearly drowned Vinyl with cold water. “HOLY FUCK THAT’S FREEZING!” Vinyl shouted in surprise, not caring if any neighbors heard her. They had kept her up before with their arguments and terrible movies, they could put up with the occasional curse. 
The shower left her feeling refreshed. In fact, she thought, clothes aren’t worth the trouble. Vinyl walked through the living room naked, picking up her goggles on the way and slipped them on. A knot formed in her stomach as she checked the news. What if Bass Leader hadn’t been insane and riots were already breaking out? It was ridiculous, she knew, but after last night, it was a possibility. Fortunately, no one had caught wind of humanity’s peril and she breathed a sigh of relief. An unfamiliar noise suddenly beckoned her. 
It was new, somewhat high pitch, and very annoying. After a minute, she realized it was her doorbell. “I’m never going to get to breakfast,” Vinyl mumbled and looked for any clothes to put on. While she looked in her room for a pair of clothes that were mildly clean, the bell never stopped ringing. “If that isn’t Bass Leader’s little girl, I am going to throw them out the window.” Vinyl was putting on a shirt when something caught her attention on the nightstand next to her bed: a pistol. 
The sight caused her heartbeat to increase and her eyes widened. The doorbell forgotten, she picked it up between her index finger and thumb. Holding the weapon as far from her body as possible, she put the weapon in the nightstand. Thinking about the gun sent a shiver up her spine and she tried to ignore it. The doorbell wormed its way into her thoughts again and she nearly ran to the door, if only to make it stop. 
“What is it?!” Vinyl yelled while she tore the door open. On the other side was a young woman with long, black hair, and purple eyes clutching a large tote bag as if her life depended on it. Her expression was a mix between fright and nervousness. Her eyes were already darting back towards the elevator and Vinyl’s irritation was tinged with a bit of sympathy. “Uh, shit, sorry? You caught me at a bad time. You must be the girl, right? Name’s Vinyl,” she said, sticking her hand out and offering a large smile. She didn’t miss the shiver that went through the girl’s body.
She looked trapped, standing in the hall, the supposed sanctuary guarded by an eccentric person with blue hair and goggles covering her eyes. Finally, she grasped Vinyl’s hand in a short squeeze and mumbled, “Octavia.”