Wednesday, 6:31pm.

Wrench and Ray both leaned against the nightclub's bar, taking a moment of respite after a full two straight hours of hard partying. The club's strobe lights continued flashing in sync with the booming music, much to the enjoyment of the ravers and partygoers living it up on the huge, open floor.

Nobody could be recognized in the crowd; almost everyone in attendance was wearing some form of LED lights, oversized cloaks with pointed hoods, masks, helmets, and even full character costumes. Even Ray was in black and green rave-wear, and Wrench was sporting orange and black clothes lined with several little chains.

It was the perfect place for Ray to unwind, and Wrench was always ready to go with the flow.

“What do you think?” Ray shouted over the music. “What's your verdict?”

Wrench hummed. “It's not my first pick,” they shouted back, “but this place isn't so bad. The location still sketches me out, but I dig this DJ.” They started gently nodding their head to the beat of the deafening, energetic beat. Their straight, bright cyan hair carefully swayed back and forth as they shut their eyes and smiled, taking a moment to embrace the music.

“We should've got Skye to come,” Wrench continued, somewhat disheartened.

“Tried,” Ray answered. “Too busy with his project. What a dork,” Ray laughed. “Can't believe he didn't want to come.”

“What!? I haven't seen him in weeks. I'll kick his butt.” Wrench made an exaggerated grumpy face. “I should chew his ass out,” they continued as they pulled out their phone from their jeans pocket.

“You messaging him? Let me at him too,” Ray demanded.

The phone had a few notifications blinking on the lock screen, one of which was a simple message from Skye, reading “hey.”

“Oh my god, there's the donut right now.” Wrench flashed a toothy smile across their face.

“No shit?”

“Yeah.” Wrench began typing something back. “He's just saying hey. Asking what's up.”

“Tell him to get his scrawny ass down here.” Ray commanded.

Wrench continued typing more messages; “At the club with Ray. Prob can't talk much rn,” followed up with “Wouldve been better with you” when Skye asked if they were having a good time.

As Wrench continued typing away, Ray reached into his pocket and pulled out a small carton of cigarettes along with a lighter.

Wrench glared at him. “You're gonna light up in here? You fuck?”

“Like anyone's gonna care.” Ray lit a cigarette and placed it snugly between his metal jaws.

“God damnit, dude. I do.” An irritated Wrench handed Ray their phone. “Talk to Skye for me. I'm gonna get some fresh air.”

“Heheh.” Ray happily accepted, immediately scanning through the flurry of messages Skye was sending, describing his passion project and how close he was to accomplishing something.

“NERD SHIT” Ray typed back with another hearty laugh.

As Wrench walked towards the relatively empty front door, a pale, visibly anxious woman shuffled inside, looking very out of place. She rapidly glanced around before making very brief eye contact with Wrench.

Don't talk to me, don't–

She stepped over to them. “I-I beg your pardon,” she began, grabbing Wrench's attention. “Can I ask you a question? It won't be long, promise.”

Fuck. “Uh, sure.” Wrench gave her an incredulous look. “What's... going on?”

“Do you know if there are any, umm... psychology... research... laboratories in this city?”

Wrench took a moment to process just how off-beat that question was. What...? Research labs?

“Uh... n-no? Other than Maroon, I guess.” They wanted to ask her just how lost she was, but couldn't muster the courage.

The woman's eyes lit up. “Okay, u-uhm... by any chance... do you know how to get there?”

“Nnnno, sorry.” Wrench was quickly becoming tense. “Are you... looking for something?”

“Well, I'm looking for a man named Carson Lowe.”

“Oh... okay.”

The lackluster reply caused a brief, awkward silence.

“I... don't know any Carsons,” Wrench finally continued.

“Okay. Th-thanks, and, thanks for your time.” The woman took a few steps away before confusedly looking around some more.

Wrench took a huge breath of air. What... the hell... was that about?

After waiting for the woman to blend in to the crowd, Wrench power-walked back over to Ray. “Did you see that?”

“Yeh.” Ray handed Wrench's phone back to them. “What did she want?” He almost sounded angry.

“She was lost, asked if I knew of any nearby psychology labs. Like... what?”

Ray tilted his head back. “Weird.”

“Apparently looking for someone named Carson. You know any Carsons?”

“Mmm, nah.” He took the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a hefty cloud of smoke. “Heh. Labs? The fuck.”

Wrench grumbled. “I'm... gonna go get that air I wanted.”

“I'll be here.”

Wrench ambled back to the entrance, undisturbed this time around.

The club's interior was rather well-kept for a back-alley hot spot. However, the instant one stepped outside, the illusion of cleanliness was quickly stripped away.

Drug peddlers of questionable reputation, mooches looking for cheap sex, and illegal gambling setups all sat within thirty feet of one another, illuminated by the neon signs mounted atop every nearby building. It was the pinnacle of high culture in Lower Miyatama.

Despite this, the chilly outside air was still somewhat fresher than that inside the club, regardless of Ray's smoking. Wrench leaned up against an unoccupied wall next to the entrance and took in a deep breath in.

They put their hands in their pockets and contorted a strong glare across their face in an effort to deter any more strangers from striking up a conversation.

What the hell was that woman about? Wrench squinted. Psychology labs...? Who in their right mind would come here looking for a lab?

Their empty stomach proved to be a quick and sudden distraction. From their first visit with Ray two days prior, Wrench seemed to recall hearing about a 24-hour steak bar only a street away. It was far cleaner, both literally and legally.

Hmm. Ray oughta be down for a bite at this hour.

They stood outside for another minute, looking up at the tall buildings, enjoying the cool air, before walking back in to see Ray. No interruptions this time, either.

Still puffing away on his cig, Ray didn't even look when Wrench returned.

“Yo, do you wanna grab something to eat? Maybe that steak bar nearby,” Wrench suggested.

“It's two blocks away. You wanna walk that?”

“I wouldn't mind. Tummy's rumbly. You said it was a good place, right?”

Ray let out a long exhale. “Yeh. 'Kay, could do that. Gimme a minute first. Wanna chill some more.”

“Fiiine.”

Wrench leaned back against the bar again, this time a couple feet farther from their friend, clear of most of the smoke.

The DJ transitioned to another track with a much faster pace, coupled with quick, high-pitch vocals singing incomprehensible, spliced words in tune with the uplifting melody. The dancers erupted with cheers and shouts, getting down to the beat's new pace.

Wrench was rather fond of it. Crossing their arms, they couldn't help but bop their head and tap their foot, trying to look cool alongside their rather tough friend.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck. Yo, let's bounce.” Ray suddenly smacked Wrench on the shoulder.

“What? Why? What's up?”

Ray nodded towards the club's entrance.

“Huh?” Wrench took a long, hard look at the front doorway, though it was hard to identify anyone over one of the ubiquitous crowds that had migrated in front of the main entrance.

Ray put out his cigarette on a nearby ashtray and grabbed Wrench beneath the shoulders, lifting them up in the air.

“Whoa, what the hell–!”

“Look,” Ray ordered.

Wrench looked over at the door again. “Oh.”

Stepping into the building was a group of six or seven people all in the same outfit: a lightly armoured body lined with bright red LEDs, and a distinctly insectoid, full-face helmet, complete with hexagonal eyes and two tall antennae. People near them discreetly shuffled away, but most others didn't take any notice.

“Threshers?” Wrench asked.

“Mmm.” Ray put Wrench down. “Let's bounce.”

“They wouldn't screw with us, would they? Not in such a public space?”

“Seen them EMP a bunch of bots on the street who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't matter there were a trillion witnesses. Threshers. Don't. Give. No. Fucks.”

“Shit.” Wrench almost looked impressed, were it not for the fear written across their face.

“They hate me, too.” Ray smirked.

“What do you mean they hate you?”

“I fuck with 'em too much. They want me dead and disassembled.”

“And you wanna leave when they've got the only entrance covered? Maybe we could just keep a low profile til we can get out...?” Wrench was, clearly, still quite skeptical.

“Ain't the only entrance. C'mon.” Ray grabbed Wrench by the arm and hastily tugged them towards the back of the building, to the left of the bar.

“Where are you taking me? Hey!”

“Backrooms. Got an exit back there.”

“Yo, hold up! That's staff only back there; we're gonna get shot!”

“Not gonna get shot, you fuckin' dweeb. You rather those cunts snatch your ear?” Ray pointed his thumb back at the front door, letting go of Wrench's arm.

Wrench frowned and touched their left ear – the only mechanical part of their body. “Not my ear,” they overdramatically pouted.

“So let's go.” Ray began marching towards the staff doors at the back of the club. “Rather get flayed by a club boss than some shit gang.”

“Very reassuring!” Wrench sarcastically remarked. Am I seriously about to go along with this? I thought he was supposed to be the chill one of the group. They begrudgingly followed close behind.

Most of the partygoers were busy elsewhere in the room, and the scant security had their eyes on the larger crowds. Ray took the chance to make his move.

The first door he tried was unlocked. He opened it rather carefully, guiding Wrench through, before shutting it behind them in the same manner.

It was significantly quieter the moment Ray closed the door behind them. The building clearly had impressive soundproofing; even the bass trembling through the walls and floor was muffled.

Ahead of them was a tall, narrow hallway with noticeboards on the right wall, and a kitchenette just on the left. As the two trudged forward, the hall branched in two directions: straight forward, and right. Forward only had a pair of washrooms on the left side, so Ray took Wrench down the right path.

“Threshers probably ain't comin' in here unless they saw me. Can take it easy now.” Ray slowed his pace down to a casual walk.

“Take it easy? We're not supposed to be here!” Wrench growled.

Someone exited one of the washrooms just as they turned the corner.

Shit dick, we're screwed. Wrench looked back at the junction to see a scruffy man peering back at them, more curious than upset.

“Yo,” Wrench slapped Ray with the back of their hand. “Behind,” they whispered.

Ray turned around to see the person. He nodded and threw horns with one of his hands.

The man nodded back before carrying on with his business.

“Just act like you belong,” Ray said.

Wrench peered ahead of Ray down the narrow corridor; a small 3-step staircase was ahead of them, leading to a door protected by one robot guard.

Is this the DJ booth?

The guard definitely noticed them, but she hadn't moved an inch or said a word.

Wrench punched Ray in the side. “Yeah, now what, genius?” they aggressively whispered.

Ray stopped in his tracks and looked back at Wrench, whose eyes suddenly lit up. “Let's ask for help,” they suggested.

“The fuck?” Ray whispered back.

“Pretend we're lost, just like that woman. Ask for the nearest exit.”

Ray looked up as if in thought.

Not like we're really pretending, anyway. “Let me do this.” Wrench quickly shuffled ahead of Ray and approached the robot guard.

The bot looked down at Wrench with a powerful gaze.

“Excuse me, we're... just a little tiny bit lost. Could you show us the nearest exit?”

“Mhm. I'll escort you; you two aren't supposed to be back here. This area is for employees only. Move along,” she said, ushering them back down the hall, descending the stairs to guide them along.

Wrench breathed a sigh of relief, but Ray didn't seem to have much reaction at all. However, they both fully cooperated.

“Left,” the guard instructed.

They backtracked down the hall they'd come from, through the junction, until they got back to the kitchenette–

BANG, POP-POP, CRACK. From out in the main room, some incredibly loud noises blasted over the booming music; not gunshots nor firecrackers, but they certainly weren't normal sounds to hear at a nightclub.

Dozens of screams and shouts followed shortly after.

“Fuck,” Ray shouted.

“What was that?” Wrench asked.

“Take a guess.”

The guard started pushing Wrench along. “Up there. Door. Move!” she commanded. She pointed to a corner of the kitchenette that was hardly visible when they entered the staff area, which had a door, plain as day.

“Okay, I'm going, I'm going!” The two hustled across the tiny kitchen as the guard rushed past them, darting out the door they initially came through.

Ray opened the door to be greeted by a filthy alleyway along with its crisp city air.

“Whew! Uh, good call, huh?” Wrench commented.

“Threshers. Don't. Give. Fucks,” Ray repeated. “Bet you 200 srakna it was the threshers that caused the scene.”

“I'd rather just take your word for it...”

Nothing else was in the alley, except for soggy trash bags and overflowing dumpsters.

“Let's get out of here,” Wrench continued as the two jogged through the alley. One of the main streets was only a couple dozen feet ahead.

“Never lucky,” Ray mumbled. “Can't just chill and have a good time nowadays.”

“Didn't you say you were the one who fucked with them in the first place?”

“Ain't why they hit that club. Woulda come straight for us. Or, straight for me.”

“I guess. So, running from gangs: that's not, like, a normal day in the life of Ray?”

“Lately it is. Fuckers getting more bold everyday.”

“Doesn't sound good...”

“It ain't. Why I like fuckin' with them. Keeps those shit stains on their toes.”

Wrench opted not to comment.

They both reached the open streets, where ordinary pedestrians were walking about, and motorbikes of several varieties were either riding or parked nearby.

“Looks like we're in the clear.” Wrench checked behind themself, just to make sure. “Yeah.”

“How 'bout that bite?” Ray suggested.

“W-what? Right when a bunch of threshers are active not even a block away?”

“Eh.” Ray shrugged. “I'm hungry.”

“You are the most self-destructive cocksucker I have ever met.”

“So? Comin' or not?”

Wrench grumbled and looked to the side. “I'm getting mine to go.”

“Whatevs. Chill at my place after?”

“Yeah... all right.”