Abandoned Military Compound, Meteor City…
The abandoned military compound was dead quiet.
Rust streaked the walls, and the air was foul with the smell of damp concrete mixed with something pungent and rotten… blood, maybe.
Trickshot lounged in a busted office chair as his boots propped up on a scorched metal desk.
"♬ There's no sex in the USSR, but this dashing handsome lad beats his meat on the flag, bahaha."
He scrolled lazily through an endless stream of Chirper comments on his phone, a satisfied grin playing on his face.
"Man, social media is something else."
He leaned back, laughing heartily as he tossed the phone between his hands.
"I didn't think people ate up this open crime shit so fast. They're out there writing fanfiction about the friggin' hostage situation! Humanity is so gone, bahaha!"
