"I'm gonna go broke soon," Heng said as he checked his breathing receipt.

The young man curbed his watch and hopped out of bed. Heng looked at himself in the mirror and held a sharp needle near the right side of his neck. His thumb hovered over the plunger. Heng took a deep breath and injected himself until the needle's hub had been reached.

The feeling was horrible.

The year was 2050. Heng turned eighteen a few days ago.

The young man swiped over his hair continuously until it straightened. Heng remarked that his hair needed a cut. He lifted his elbow and grimaced from the stench. Heng hadn't showered in two days.

Heng brushed his teeth with a wooden toothbrush that always hurts to use. He washed his face, eyes filled with gunk, and dried it with a towel. The young man washed his clothes with powdered soap before hanging them near his room's only window. Heng then washed himself.

Heng had to maneuver from his bathroom back to his bedroom. The house, he thought, was perfectly-sized for him even though he was always bumping into things. Heng bumped into a little stool and winced from the pain.

Heng grabbed his sword, which was perched on his duct-taped wooden chair. Heng inspected the blade and found a little dent on the tip

Heng brought his sword to his workbench. The table always reek of oil. On it, a gigantic sharpening stone, five utility tools, and a cluster of electrical parts laid sporadically. A water hose hung near the side of the table, and Heng used it. He wet the stone, aligned his blade at a 45 degress angle, and began sharpening.

It was still seven in the morning. School starts at eight thirty.

Thirty minutes later, Heng was done. He put his sword into his leather sheath and ultimately laid it all on his workbench. Sharpening his blade had left him breathing more than usual. Heng cursed that he now needed to pay more. On the other side of his workbench, his bag slumped. His one-sider's front pocket was held together with a buckle, and Heng opened it.

Heng took out three triple A batteries, which were stored nicely in a transparent case. He opened his sword's hilt like a toy, took out the old batteries, and inserted the new ones. Heng pressed a little green button on the sword's handle and waited. When the sword beeped, Heng repressed the button.

"I really need to bring you to a mechanic. My skills are not doing you any favors," Heng muttered. The leather sheath had a strap and Heng wrapped that around his shoulder. The sword now scabbered to his back.

With his morning routine out of the way, Heng left home.

Heng ambled through his neighborhood. The scanty area smelled of wet dirt and looked foggy. Heng's neighborhood consisted of people who lived ill-lavishly. Heng saw the drones surveiling his neighborhood like flies. Each drones held either a warning sign or an advertisement for the latest menial gadgets.

Heng's feet felt wet. The ground hadn't dried up yet.

Rain didn't exist under the dome, but the dome did rain yesterday. Heng liked to call the "Interdomain Artificial Rain System" the "Squirter".

Heng reached a little intersection where a bunch of stop signs had been repurposed. They were now a bridge, overlooking the garbage gourge. The gourge hadn't been taken to the Incinerator yet. Across the makeshift and slippery bridge, Heng arrived at his friend's house. He caught Vort, peeping at him.

"I can see you," Heng said. Then he flailed.

"Go away!" Vort replied. The same Vort that hated the sun. The same Vort that sounded like he hadn't eaten anything since two days ago.

Heng walked to the front door and noticed a spray-painting that wasn't there yesterday. The text wrote: Go kill yourself! Heng inspected the paint, touched it, and realized what had happened. "Ryan."

"Don't..." Vort suddenly opened the door. "They meant it as a joke."

"How about I turn their walls into a stencil as a joke?" Heng clenched his sword. His fist had already turned white.

"Heng, no. You'd better not. You'll get more than just a beating," Vort glanced at Heng's fists and added, "calm down, man."

Heng considered for a moment and let go, "fine, but I do what I must."

Heng and Vort left the scanty neighborhood and made their way to school. The factory where children are trained to become killers under the term militant.

Not before long, the two found themselves in front of a green gate. The roads here transitioned from wet dirt, to gravel, and to concrete. Above the already gigantic gate was a more gigantic building. It towered over the slums, Heng and Vort's neighborhood. Above the building was not the skies, but the dome's glass. Bullet proof glass. Heng liked to call it the cage or modern "1984". (1984 is a book written by George Orwell)

After showing their breathing receipts, Heng and Vort were allowed to enter. The security guard? A drone with more machine guns attached to it than Heng's fingers. Heng looked at his watch and noticed Vort doing the same. He smiled and tapped the guy on his shoulder.

"How much did it cost?" Heng whispered.

Vort showed the screen on his watch. "About a hundred."

Their conversation abruptly broke as another person pushed Vort to the ground. Vort fell and landed on his knees and face. Heng turned and saw a blonde student behind Vort. Green eyed, pale skin, large build, and blonde. The characteristics of an asshole named, Ryan Breyer, the slum destroyer. Behind Ryan was his many colleagues. They were grinning.

Vort suddenly greeted Ryan. "Good morning, Ryan."

Ryan frowned, clicked his tongue, and warned Vort to not get in his way. From what Heng saw, Vort's passivity might earn him a knuckle sandwich this morning. Heng held Vort up and watched as his friend's neck bended like the stop sign bridge. Why was his friend apologizing? Then a stream of shadows went by, each of them uttering their laughters: Nyuck, Nyuck, Nyuck.

"Hey, you alright?" Heng said. He could hear Vort's heavy breathing.

Vort reached into his backpack and retrieved his inhaler. He placed his lips on the device's mouth and pressed the little white button at the top. Heng saw how perspired Vort was and offered to carry his bag for him. Heng empathized with Vort. A life with a disease is not fun.

Heng was pleased that Vort took his offer. Heng carried the two backpacks like a plated armor. One in the front and one in the back. Heng looked toward the front door but not at it. Instead, he watched Ryan. The guy had no qualms.

"Asshole." Heng thought.

***

Entering the building, Heng and Vort noticed a marginal bunch minding their own businesses. The usual crowd was forming around Vennessa like a flock of seagulls. A group of glasses wearing students, usually too busy with their books to look up, were chatting. The jocks, Ryan's group, was probably talking about how they would approach Vennessa today.

Heng frowned, "assholes."

The hallway was bustling and frankly, it was hard to go to places. After passing the many groups of students, Heng and Vort finally reach their designated class. Their classroom was on the fifth floor, which had caused Vort to hyperventilate a little when going there.

Inside the classroom, Chairs and tables were aligned and departed from each other. They all had great geometric. The center of the ceiling had a gigantic fan which was spinning casually. And, the only light source the room had was from a window overlooking the school yard. Everyone in class was either chatting or looking at their phones.

At the back of the class, Heng sat and took a deep breath.

"You really have to learn how to fight back," Heng told Vort.

"Don't wanna," Vort replied.

"That means assholes like Ryan won't leave you alone," Heng furrowed his eyebrows, "do you ENJOY getting hurt?"

Suddenly, Vort slammed his desk and everyone looked at him. Heng startlingly apologized. The two went silent before grabbing their textbooks.

When mister Smith arrived, Heng slanted into his seat. Mr Smith, probably in his 30's, was always on time no matter the occasion. The teacher dropped his one sided bag next to the teacher's table. Then he retrieved his textbook, adjusted his optics, and skimmed over it.

"Morning students," Mr Smith said. His voice was stern. Then he licked his fingers, flipped to the next page of his book, and added, "Hopefully you all had a great weekend."

Heng murmured a reply. He didn't really have a great weekend to be honest. Heng glanced at Vort, who was reading his textbook without a care in the world. Heng suddenly felt guilty.

"Hey man, I didn't mean to make you angry," He whispered.

Vort didn't reply, and Heng felt even more awful. Suddenly, Mr Smith announced Heng's name. Heng replied and Mr Smith jotted down something with his ball-point pen. A pretty old-school way of taking attendance. Heng turned to the window and watched as a drone flew by. Silent but deadly.

***

After class, Heng went to the cafeteria. He hadn't have breakfast yet and he intended to do so. Mr Smith's history class had drained him of his ability to think and had intensify his hunger for sweets. The cafeteria smelled of baked goods. Bread is a commodity which Heng could never afford it.

Heng checked his watch. He only had enough to get a bar of chocolate at the bakery. Heng sighed and went to the free food section, as he called it, of the cafeteria. Many students had already made a lengthy line. They were all like Heng. Too broke to afford the tasty stuff.

Heng grabbed a food tray and lined up with his peers. Then he noticed Vort entering the vicinity. Heng wanted to wave at him, but after one look at Vort's face, he didn't. Heng watched as his friend sullenly walked into the bathroom at the far corner of the cafeteria.

Afterward, Ryan and his buddy showed up. Heng felt something was wrong, but couldn't find out why. Heng walked along the line and reached the food distributor. The benelovent lady, Ms C, with curly hair and an obtrusive belly, scooped mash potatoes and gravy into Heng's tray.

Heng asked if he could get anything else, and the lady sighed and answered honestly. Heng took his tray to a spot where he could survey the bathroom. Heng ate and kept his eyes peeled for Vort. Suddenly, everyone in the room went silent. Heng turned towards the cafeteria's entrance and saw Venessa.

Heng would be lying if he said Venessa wasn't pretty. That first year had long wavy hair that seemed to gloss everywhere she goes. Heng noticed her glancing back at him and turned around. The last thing he wanted was to be put on her fan's deathlist.

Heng saw Ryan entering the cafeteria's bathroom. It may be a coincidence, but Heng did not want to take that chance. He left his seat and made his way there. But, Ryan's buddies suddenly hooked Heng by the collar and pulled him back.

"Hey, Heng, watchu doing here?" One of them said. He had a spiky green mohawk that was too aggressive for his appearance. His nick name was Tiny Jack if Heng could remember.

"I was heading to the bathroom. Gotta hit the john if you know what I mean," Heng thumbed over his shoulder.

Jack looked up at Heng and then turned to one of his pals. He sighed and laugh a little. "Can you go somewhere else? That bathroom broke from the 'circumstances' yesterday." Jack had two V signs up and gestured.

Heng thought about yesterday. He widened his eyes and laughed. It wasn't funny, but he laughed anyway.

"See that," Jack said, "He's chill."

Suddenly, Heng became suspicious. What did Jack mean by "See that. He's chill"? Jack sounded like he was trying to convince the others that Heng was a 'chill' guy.

"Say, where's Ryan?" Heng questioned. He had his right eyebrow up. Heng then ammended, "Where's the man himself? I always see you guys hang out with each other." Heng wanted to add "Like flies."

Jack, again, turned to his pals. He pocketed his hands into his pants and replied, "Ryan's... Uh... He's still in class. Didn't want to come with us today?"

Heng glanced at someone else other than Jack. Otter seemed to know more. The guy had perspired skin which Heng took notice the first time he and Jack had interacted. Perspiration was the first sign of guilt. Or maybe he was just hot.

"What are you looking at, lil guy?" Otter spoke. His voice was deep and condescending. Otter always spoke like that. He likes to think of himself as the beast.

Heng cringed a little.

"You owed me 50 creds," Heng said. He watched as Otter glanced at the ceiling for a moment before looking back.

"Oh yeah, I've forgotten completely. What was it for again?"

Heng said frustratingly, "The water. You wanted water."

"Oh... yeah. But do I have to pay back?" Otter glared.

"Yes," Heng replied. Why should he be scared of Otter?

Heng look over his shoulder. Ryan hadn't left the bathroom yet. What could those two be doing in there?

Heng ensured himself that the worst could happen was Ryan beating on Vort. Heng left Ryan's group and the cafeteria. He went around the cafeteria building and reached the back of the men's bathroom. The back had a little window, which was built about Heng's crouching height.

Although Heng wouldn't dare to peek normally, this circumstance had him pondering. Why did Ryan's group suddenly showed up? And what was Vort doing?

Heng looked around the area. There were no students in sight. Heng wasted no time and slowly got up. As his eyes reached the inside of the bathroom, they couldn't see any two figures resembling Ryan and Vort. Where did they go?

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed Heng by the collar and lifted him into the air. Heng couldn't move his hands anymore. The tightness of his clothing prevented him from doing so. Heng kicked backwards.

He heard a grunt and realized it was Otter. Heng tumbled away from the sound, turned around, and saw Ryan, Vort, and Otter before him. Ryan was holding onto Vort as if Vort was his pal—hooking onto the healer's neck. Heng could see Vort struggling to breathe.

"Get your hands off him, Ryan," Heng said calmly.

"This little shit always panic every time he sees me. What's the harm in letting him play the mouse?" Ryan laughed. Otter glanced at him for a moment. The giant now looked unsure.

"Ryan! Get your hands off him. Now! I won't say it again," Heng said. His hand shot for his sword.

"You won't say it again?" Ryan smirked as he leaned forward. The blonde turned to the giant, "what are you waiting for? Invite him to the party."

"I don't hold anything against you, lil guy," Otter said, "you're just too stupid to go against Ryan."

Heng wanted to laugh. He pressed the green button on his sword and took a stance. Heng watched as Otter pumped his fists and turned them into shiny scales. Heng's sword beeped, but he didn't repressed the button.

Suddenly, his sword's handle opened up, revealing the many nuances of a mechanical weapon. Otter was impatient and dashed at Heng. The giant threw a right hook upon his arm's distance.

Heng ducked, his sword needed more time. Heng never thought he would use Kosal's blade for bantering. He must've lost it.

"Let's dance, you biggot!" Heng said. He jumped back to dodge another smash from Otter. Heng knew that one hit from those fists would be game over. Heng also knew that this is a one on two.

As Otter stomped to get Heng, Heng manuveur through the gaps between Otter's legs. Heng then dashed for Ryan, who looked surprised. But, Heng felt something was wrong.

Ryan didn't flinch one bit.

Suddenly, a force struck Heng on his back and sent him to the ground. It reverberated Heng's entire body as if a giant bass speaker had blasted noise into him. Heng felt burning, saw yellow flashing, and shook sporadically.

After Heng was done shaking, Ryan crouched infront of him, dropped Vort to the ground like a doll, and smirked. "How'd that feel?" He said.

Heng couldn't move a muscle.

"Chill as he may be. This guy also hates me. Maybe I should teach him a lesson," Ryan continued. Heng was beginnning to lose consciousness.

Then Heng felt his grip forcefully loosened. His sword was now in the hands of Ryan. Ryan inspected Heng's weapon for a brief moment and threw it into the air. Heng watched as a yellow light struck his sword from seemingly nowhere. The same blinding, burning light that had hurt him.

Afterward, what came down was a smouldering lump of metal. Heng watched as Ryan stomped on the lump and kicked it like a soccer ball. It was no longer a sword, worthy of battling the Joranis, but a pile of useless metal.

"If you don't want to be like your sword, I suggest staying in your level," Ryan now couldn't contain his laughter. His laughing infuriated Heng.

"Fuck you," Heng whispered before losing consciousness completely.