EXT. CENTRAL CITY – STREET TO APARTMENT COMPLEX – NIGHT
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[Central City glows under the neon buzz of street signs and dull, overworked lights. The trio walks along the edge of a pedestrian lane. Jason pushes a rattling hover-cart loaded with groceries. SD-A carries a tightly packed bundle of batteries, and SD-K has reluctantly been assigned the important job of snack security.]
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SD-A (genuine curiosity)
“So… why aren’t you working today? I assumed you had, like, robot crime to stop.”
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JASON (immediately, proudly)
“It’s my day off.”
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[SD-K gives him a sharp side-eye.]
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SD-K
“You almost got eaten by a parasitized bot twelve hours ago.”
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JASON
“Exactly. I’ve earned this non-lethal stroll. Nothing wrong with pretending to be a civilian once in a while. Look at me. Just another guy with metal guts and a bag full of over-salted oil crisps.”
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SD-A (nodding slowly)
“I didn’t know Security bots got days off.”
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JASON (grinning)
“They don’t. But when you’re borderline broke and have one working railcannon arm and a suspicious oil addiction, you get creative with your scheduling.”
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[They pass a food stall run by a toaster-shaped bot roasting something shiny on skewers. SD-K slows down.]
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SD-K
“What are those?”
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JASON
“Processed gear tendons. Crunchy, weirdly addictive. I once ate nine in a row and forgot my own designation.”
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[SD-K nods thoughtfully. Jason grabs one, tosses a coin at the stall owner, and bites it with an audible crunch. He winces.]
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JASON (muffled)
“Yep. Still tastes like spicy regret.”
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[They turn down the final street, toward the towering apartment complex. It’s a stacked grid of concrete cubes, each tangled in wires like spaghetti art. Jason’s cube sits on the third tier, halfway up the far wall.]
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SD-A
“This is home?”
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JASON
“Home sweet slightly flammable cube.”
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SD-K (deadpan)
“This entire structure looks like it’s held together by bad decisions.”
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JASON
“Exactly. Fits me perfectly.”
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[They approach the elevator platform—an old, groaning thing that vibrates slightly too much. Jason hits the button and it opens with a wheeze.]
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JASON (as they step in)
“No action, no parasites, no Security HQ yelling at me. Just one quiet night with two suspicious guests and half my salary gone. Could be worse.”
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[The doors close. The elevator jerks upward, carrying them toward a deceptively peaceful evening in the city that never sleeps—because most of it doesn’t have proper shutdown protocols.]
ns216.73.216.224da2
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