"How was your speech therapy session, sir?"

Mateus grinned at the old gallant-looking man in a suit as he walked through the double heavy doors of the penthouse. He flipped his hat at the man leaving a hat-shaped press around his head taming most of his unruly dark hair. He winked as the man caught it nonchalantly in his hands hanging it on the rack.

"It's my last session, Nicholas. I've been making remarkable progress," Mateus said sitting on top one of the tables, his voice mimicking his therapist.

Nicholas smiled back. "I would be more surprised if you didn't."

Mateus winked at him and looked out the window onto the city 1skyline. "This world has gone absolutely…insane, hasn't it?"

"Seventy-five years, sir," Nicholas stood by him looking over the same skyline. "I've seen the world busy themselves with newspapers that wrote stories that happened the day before to looking at ever-changing screens that shows news as it happens. When there is so much to take in in so little time, it is no wonder that people's brains can no longer keep up."

Seventy-five years. All this change in less than a century. Mateus would not have believed it if he hadn't seen the world now with his own eyes. Even the industrial revolution did not change the world as drastically.

"And this is the world I have to judge." Mateus sighed. "It hasn't even been a century…" And yet the changes were very stark. Everything now was so connected and so fast, it was the first time he felt like he would never be able to keep up. Maybe he was older than he thought he was.

"Before you worry about any of that…"

Mateus looked at Nicholas, then at the man's open palm mobile phone in hand. "Can I live in the dark ages and not have a phone?"

"Your boss would be rather perplexed and would demand you get a phone anyway."

"So he can contact me anytime?"

"It's how the world works now."

"Can I just destroy the world?" Mateus grinned.

"Very bad joke, sir." Nicholas frowned at him and nodded at the phone.

Mateus sighed taking the phone. "Who am I and what do I do?"

"Your name is Matt Deus, 23 years old, community college graduate. Just got your job as a news researcher." Nicholas gave him a file. "Everything about your history and your life now are all here."

"Matt Deus? So original. Last time it was Mateo Olus. Can't I have a more awesome sounding name like Christian Dior?" he laughed, flipping through the file.

"I can't say I know who makes the files, nor do I know what the previous files are all about."

"True. I didn't see you the last time. How long have you been working for us?"

"Close to forty years. I was barely a babe when the war happened."

"Right. I would not have met you at all."

"Shall I leave you, sir?"

Matt paused, considering before putting the file down. "Why did you choose to work with us?"

"You have your mysteries. I have mine," Nicholas' strict façade faded as he grinned.

Matt laughed, "Right you are." He picked up the file and flipped it open. "I'll be fine for now. You can do whatever you want."

"I shall wait for your call, then."