New Vegas. I'd hardly call it home anymore. But I cannot deny there is definitely a feeling of nostalgia amidst its streets. The poor huddled together. Crime over food. Memories like these are what I've endured in the past. And yet, when you literally go down a block, the world you thought you knew suddenly changes. From run-down districts to sleepless lights. Vibrant and colorful. Full of life for those who can afford to waste their lives away while never accomplishing anything. If life is nothing short of a game to them, then they never took the time to reach the level that they did. They cheated their way to the top using previous save data from past generations. Wealth handed to them on a plate. Wealth most of them will never fully understand the true value of. We may not be main characters in a novel or a game, but does that mean we don't matter? Whether we repeat the same thing all our lives or change up what we say, do our words mean nothing? What right do they have to neglect us? If they were to be asked that, something along the lines of birthright would be the only response they would give. And, sadly, birthright is all they need. Everything is just a game. To them, and to us.

The game of life. The game people cannot afford to lose.

And sadly, cheating is fair game.

Well, it's time that the other players step up their own game.

"Everything ready, brother?" I hear Chates say through my communication crystal. He may be using another individual's voice, but his speech pattern is familiar enough.

"I am. Let's make this count. No replays."

"Again with the game terminology."

As soon as we finalize everything, I take a turn at a rundown fashion store that's been closed for a year following bankruptcy. As soon as I do, I see a familiar sight.

A street riddled with starving poor folk. Huddled together in their makeshift newspaper blankets. Dividing what little food they have amongst themselves to the point that a piece of food smaller than the palm of my hand is considered a blessing. This is the world I had known for much of my life. The world I never wanted to go back to.

A world in need of change.

"Hey, that's my piece!"

"Please, water... My daughter needs water. Forget about me. Save her first."

"Another day of unemployment... Everything is pointless."

"I suppose we should bury him. He was a good man. But why starve himself for me?"

"If I could write, I would barrage those rich assholes with life-threatening letters."

Despite all this talk, the street goes silent in an instant. Silent at the sight of the police. Three policemen, two male and one female. Clad in their fancy blue suits. Carrying what looks like groceries through a street of hungry souls. I wouldn't be surprised if many of them lived here a year ago.

"Out of our way!" The policeman in front shouts, lightly pushing away some beggars. He may talk tough, but the look in his eyes shows sympathy. Pity. The body can be bought and so can the heart, but at least the heart was not sold in his case.

The policewoman carrying the groceries stops and, after staring at a group of children huddled together, walks over and offers some of her bread to them. I look around and see the eyes of all the adults look at her with both jealousy and gratitude. The sad truth of life is that one person can only make a difference to a select few. Somebody is always excluded. Life is a game of choice, and with each choice, there's at least one path that's removed for every path taken.

"What are you doing?"

I look further down the nearest alleyway and see another policeman of younger age accompanied by two large individuals in black suits. Bodyguards, most likely.

"You shouldn't be wasting your time on these parasites. Feed one and they'll all come begging."

"Think of the children!" the policewoman replies.

The policeman, bodyguards in tow, walks up to her.

"We are paid to protect the law."

He grabs the groceries from her hands.

"Not pity those who break them. It will only encourage crime!"

He throws down the grocery bag and begins to stomp all over the contents. Everyone is dumbstruck by the heartless actions.

"Hey, what're you doing!?" the lead police officer says.

"What you guys should be doing."

"Your actions can easily be labeled as theft at least!"

"You know the higher ups encourage this."

"Some, not all! Let me see your identification."

The younger policeman simply continues to stare at the other one. As the lead policeman begins to get closer, the bodyguards get in between the two.

"I'm a new member of the police force appointed by Mr. Dives himself."

"What? Since when? Every member needs screening and training before joining the force!"

"The higher ups are getting paranoid. I'm here to make sure any and all causes of distress for them are removed. Besides, the faster this is done, the better my first impression."

He snaps his fingers and the bodyguards begin to beat up random civilians. The sound of weak screams from parched throats, the blood of the innocent staining the walls of this hellhole. The clear abuse of power. How often have I seen this?

"Stop at once!" the third policeman yells. "Theft! Assault! Don't make your list of offenses get any longer!"

The third policeman reaches for his gun. Just before he whips it out, one of the bodyguards, with lightning fast speed, punches the policeman in the chest, causing him to gasp for air before losing consciousness.

"Rookie, you've crossed the line!"

Fire rhime begins to circulate around the lead policeman.

"Fireball!!!!"

The bodyguard is directly hit by the flames but shows no sign of pain.

(I believe I've seen enough. It's time for this game to end.)

The thug rushes towards the lead policeman.

"Again! Fireb...!!!"

"."

Using my electric rhime to speed up my movements, I rush in between the two and press my electrified hand against the bodyguard's, no, this thug's chest.

(Increase power.)

My hand becomes engulfed in a thicker layer of electric current, causing the thug to jump back in agonizing pain. The thug then collapses, gasping for air and holding the part of his chest that I shocked.

"What the hell are you doing!?" the young policeman yells.

"Making a difference."

I turn around to help the policewoman with tending to the injured.

"Grrr. GET HIM!!!"

I dig into my pocket and remove two gloves. I can hear the sound of the thugs rushing towards me.

"."

The non-injured thug behind me is readying his left hand for a punch. Without turning around, I sidestep to the left and grab his arm. I shift my weight to make his body a shield between me and the injured one rushing towards me, attempting to throw a punch. The colliding punch sends the thug I grabbed flying a few meters down the street. With my back turned to the injured bodyguard, I continue to dodge his attacks with my electric rhime enhanced speed. A few meters behind him, I can see the young policeman stomping his feet in anger, cursing to himself. I can see people around the corner coming this way to see the cause of the ruckus.

I can see everything around me. The silhouettes of buildings and people. 360 degrees within a 100 meter radius. That is my subtone, .

(It's time to end this.)

"Activate." I say under my breath.

My gloves begin to glow. The speed of my rhime starts accelerating through my body. I've become faster, my rhime easier to control. I rush towards the injured thug in front of me and place my hand on his chest again.

"."

I send a quick jolt through his body. Removing my hand, I look at him and see him standing but immobile. I punch him in the chest. This time, I'll let the gloves handle it.

Although the onlookers don't know it, my glove begins to absorb the thug's rhime. He wobbles back and forth, struggling to remain standing.

In a weak voice, he whispers, "This wasn't...part of the plan."

And with that, he collapses, unconscious.

The young policeman, after seeing his thug fall, yells, "I'll remember this!" and signals for the remaining thug to retreat. As soon as I put away my gloves, I move the unconscious thug's body over to the wall, then tend to the wounded poor.

"Are you alright?"

They weakly nod.

"You shouldn't have gotten involved like you did," the lead policeman says. "You could end up on Dives' hit list. It's our job to prevent such things."

"If that were true, I wouldn't have stepped in. That lowlife is a policeman, one of your own. How many more of you have sold yourselves to the almighty mesure?"

I look around. The policeman backs off in guilt, while the poor stare at me in interest. It seems I got their attention.

It's time to set things in motion.

"How can you protect us when you can't even prevent your own people from betraying you? Will you stand for this?"

I see the third policeman getting up, clenching his fists.

"Should we be out here while our chidren go hungry? Should we have to beg for scraps from the very people responsible for our misery?"

I can sense using my subtone that more people are converging on my location.

"New Vegas was meant to be a technological city where everyone would live easier lives. A place inspired by the First Age city of Tokyo, with the chance to make it big in First Age Las Vegas! A place for all to enjoy themselves! To be free to do as they please! To be free! Are we free!?"

Some of the adults begin to stand up. The policemen help their third member to his feet, all of them looking in my direction. I can sense a box a few meters to the left of me. As I begin to walk toward it, I continue my speech.

"To the rich, this is nothing but a game. They waste their money, even our tax money, on the pleasures we all should be entitled to! And where are we? Struggling to find jobs that make us kiss up to these fat cats in their fancy cars! We can't even afford to leave this place! We are despised by these rich men, and yet they make it so difficult we can't even rid them of our presence!"

I jump onto the box and look towards the people.

"We are 99% of this city's population! Why should we be here, starving in the streets!? We are humans, just like them! What makes them better than us!?"

More people get up from the ground. The size of the crowd is increasing, and people cluster closer together.

"Why are we waiting!? Countless others in different ages have stood up for their personal causes! Remember the 2007-2008 First Age Berlitz Japan Strike! Think of our children and those meant to be role models! While the rich get more, we get less for more work!"

The crowd keeps growing. I can see anger and determination in the eyes of more of the people looking at me.

"Remember the First Age Strikes of May in France in 1968! Although this so-called 'fair' city was meant to have leaders that wouldn't monopolize the economic and political systems, the alliance created by all the rich parties in Angelia has only benefited the minority, and without opposition! Il est interdit d'interdire! It's forbidden to forbid! Remember the Newsboy' Strike of 1899 in the First Age! All you adults are not the only ones suffering in this city. Since education is expensive, many children have to work, when they should be in school! How will they ever get real jobs without a proper education!? Childen in the past stood up against economic giants, so why are the rest of you sitting around doing nothing!? Will we stand for this!?"

"NO!" a fair number of locals shout back.

"They think we're nothing! Are we nothing!?"

"NO!" say more voices from the crowd.

"What will we do!?"

"STAND UP! FIGHT BACK!"

"How will we do this!?"

"STRIKE!!!" the beat up policeman yells at the top of his lungs. His other teammates are surprised at this, but, after a few seconds, they repeat...

"STRIKE!!"

The other locals begin to join in, clapping their hands, stomping their feet, and raising their voices.

"STRIKE!! STRIKE!! STRIKE!!!!!!!"

"Who's with me!?"

"WE ARE!!!"

"WHO'S WITH ME!?!?!?!?"

"WWWEEEE AAAARRRREEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! YYYYEEEEAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

(The story path has been chosen. Let the games begin, rich bosses!)

I can sense it, but right on the outside of my radius, a certain young policeman takes out some gloves, puts his head against his bodyguard's chest, waits for a few seconds, then retracts his hand from the unconscious victim. After a few seconds, said policeman's body transforms into the body of a certain cloaked youth. It would seem Chates played his part well. S rank job, my brother. Let's see the Keisetsu stop something of this magnitude!

Perhaps I should have paid more attention, but, high in the sky, with wings pitch black, another youth has been watching the spectacle, looking towards both my rally and the actions of my brother.

Things will be getting interesting in New Vegas. Very interesting...