His yellow Exo-Mech, a marvel of engineering, encased his limbs and provided the strength and support needed for the task at hand. The suit hummed with power, a mechanical extension of his very being. Beneath it, he wore a navy-blue jumpsuit.
Ryne's gaze focused on the watchman, a stoic sentinel—a mechanical Shell. Its all-seeing camera-like eyes surveyed the workers on the ground for any signs of danger or deviation from protocol. It rolled around on its tracks, bumping over the coarse ground.
He patiently waited for its gaze to shift, its attention drawn elsewhere, eager to begin his ascent.
The last thing I needed was another warning for improper use of equipment...
Finally, as the watchman's mechanical visage turned away, Ryne's heart quickened with determination. With a surge of adrenaline, he initiated his climb, relying on his well-honed parkour skills to propel himself upward with grace and precision.
Each step, each leap, became a calculated dance between man and machine, as if he were an agile sprite navigating a fantastical obstacle course.
The metallic surfaces of the building's skeleton provided a difficult landscape, but he continued his climb. His gloved hands expertly grasped the exposed beams and unfinished sections of the structure, his booted feet finding purchase on narrow ledges.
He equipped the nail gun from his Exo-Mech's various attachments. The rhythmic pounding of his heart synchronized with the pounding of nails into targeted locations. A symphony of construction echoed through the air.
As he ascended, the world below shrank into insignificance, the sound of voices and machinery fading into a distant hum. His focus narrowed onto his tasks, sinking into a state of flow.
With precision born from countless hours of practice, Ryne wielded his various tools like extensions of his very being.
With his welding torch, he joined fixtures seamlessly, demonstrating the skills he had honed over the last year. Sparks sprang to life, shooting into the air behind him.
The building, once a skeletal structure, transformed beneath his hands. It took on a life of its own, slowly evolving into an architectural marvel over the last several weeks. The sunlight filtered through the clouds above, dancing upon the metallic surface, casting an ethereal glow seen by millions of Nova City residents.
With each nail driven and every fixture welded, the building grew stronger and more resolute. Ryne marveled at the sight, his heart swelling with a sense of accomplishment. He was but a humble craftsman, leaving an indelible mark upon the tapestry of this fantastical city. Time seemed to stand still as he labored, his movements fluid and purposeful.
He wiped the sweat from his brow as he took a brief break. From where he sat, Nova City stretched out like a maze of concrete and steel. Over a hundred years of research and ingenuity. Twenty million souls, all searching for their own place in the world.
The distant horn reverberated through the construction site, signaling the shift's end.
I have to say goodbye again, partner.
Ryne patted his chest, feeling the hardness of his Exo-Mech beneath his hand, and sighed. Carefully, he navigated his way down, the grace of his movements surprising even himself. He felt like a mythical creature gracefully descending from the heavens.
Reaching ground level, he walked his Exo-Mech toward the charging station, its metallic joints emitting soft whirrs of readiness.
Inside, five other Exo-Mech suits built by various manufacturers rested like silent sentinels, waiting for their operators to join with them.
With a pang of reluctance, he disengaged from the suit's embrace, stepping out onto the solid ground.
It was a bittersweet moment, parting ways with the mechanical extension that had become his second skin. He connected the cables from the charging dock to the suit.
Until next time.
He looked back at the only thing that made him feel free and sighed as he left the charging bay. Ryne removed his safety helmet and set it on the bench outside while he got used to his unassisted movement. He stretched his body—first his head, then his shoulders and arms, moving down to his feet.
I feel sluggish. I need to train some more this week.
With a determined stride, Ryne entered the building beside the charging station. The worker's station housed lockers, storage rooms, and an employee shower.
He quickly stripped and washed the sweat and grime off him. Once dressed in his usual athleisure, he examined his work clothes, noting their frayed hems and small tears. He shook his head as he stuffed them into his duffel bag and sat outside to rest.
His thoughts drifted to Mr. Perry, his boss, and his impending arrival. He fidgeted with his hands while he waited, knowing that his paycheck would soon be in his account.
A worker Shell bearing the identification Bricker-037 appeared with mechanical efficiency. It delicately picked up his helmet, which he had forgotten to stow away, placing it on a hook in the worker's station behind him. When it returned, its camera-like eyes zoomed in on him.
"Worker 3197, be careful where you leave your personal items," Bricker said mechanically, tinged with a hint of admonishment.
"Okay, thanks, Bricker," Ryne nodded in acknowledgment, grateful for the reminder.
The Shell, devoid of human emotions, continued its duties, seamlessly merging with the machinery surrounding them.
"Ryne!" Mr. Perry shouted.
Waddling toward him, Mr. Perry adjusted his mustache. His bald head glistened under the site's floodlights as usual, and his well-tailored suit struggled against the increased girth of his stomach.
Ryne braced himself for their usual interaction.
"Good work out there today, Ryne. We've been finishing more projects than usual lately, and don't think I haven't noticed your contributions. You've been working more shifts recently. You're still in school, yes?" Mr. Perry asked.
To Ryne's surprise, his boss's voice carried a tone of approval and appreciation. He managed to keep himself from frowning and kept his questions to himself.
"Yes, but don't worry, I won't allow my work or studies to affect each other."
"That's what I like to hear. Another few years and maybe I can give you a promotion. Anyway, here's your pay and the bonus from last week's job," Mr. Perry said.
A glimmer of satisfaction filled Ryne as he heard the word "promotion," and he grinned as Mr. Perry tapped his wrist against Ryne's wristband, starting the credits transfer. The digital confirmation beeped, and he swiftly verified the details, ensuring everything was in order.
That's fifteen hundred credits for the month and an extra four hundred bonus from last month. It won't be long now until I've saved up enough.
"Thanks, Mr. Perry," Ryne expressed his gratitude with the rare sight of a genuine smile.
"You're welcome. Ever since you joined our team, you've increased production speed by twenty percent. I can... overlook some of your riskier, more unorthodox methods, but do try to be careful."
"That's why you had me sign those injury and fatality forms before starting, right? Don't worry, I'll be careful."
"Good." Mr. Perry nodded with subtle indifference.
With the payment secured, Ryne bid farewell to Mr. Perry and the construction site, heading back toward the headquarters where his friends waited. After eight hours in the Exo-Mech, his body felt heavier without the mechanical assistance of the frame.
He walked the streets with a spring in his step. Around him, towering skyscrapers pierced the heavens, their modern designs reaching dizzying heights. Glass facades reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling display of glimmers and gleams. The buildings stood as symbols of a city eternally reaching for the future.
A symphony of sounds filled the air, blending seamlessly into the landscape. The hum of vehicles traversing the city's network of elevated highways echoed through the streets. People hurried by, their footsteps mingling with the chatter of diverse languages and the occasional laughter.
The city's streets teemed with life, a vibrant tapestry of cultures and identities woven together. Faces from all corners of the globe adorned the sidewalks, each person adding their unique piece to the vivid mosaic of Nova City.
Ryne glanced at the faces of the privileged who ignored his existence—most of them on Direct Calls, or DC's, using cybernetic implants.
Not one of them thinks about us for even a second...
Green natural spaces and meticulously landscaped parks provided oases of peace amidst the urban sprawl. Lush vegetation adorned the cityscape, offering a breath of fresh air and a respite from the concrete jungle. Trees reached toward the sky, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, providing shade and solace to those seeking a moment of peace.
Technology seamlessly integrated into every facet of daily life in Nova City. Automated systems regulated the temperature and lighting, creating an optimal environment for its inhabitants. The magnetic levitation trains carted hundreds to their intended destinations. Clean and efficient transportation services whisked people from one corner of the city to another.
Labour Shells worked tirelessly to keep the streets and buildings clean. Humanoid Shells rushed around, running errands for their owners.
One of those would sell for so much in Fracture.
Flashes of color caught Ryne's attention as he passed by shopfronts and billboards. Holographic projectors showcased advertisements for the latest advancements in technology and fashion.