A Gamble in Destruction

1

Sector 13 call to service

Address: 601 North Venton Rd, Las Vegas, NV, United States

Rank A

Dorm A2

Report to room 203 for schedule

Note: First year students are expected to wear formal attire upon entrance. Show sigil on the back for entrance. Arrival time between 12am- 3am

I fold up the paper and shove it in my back pocket. Thanking the driver, I get out and look up at the building before me.

Hearing stories about sector 13 definitely is nothing like seeing it in real life.

It's a club.

I can hear the music from outside, where what looks like at least 40 people are waiting to get in. Looking down at my phone I see it's only 1:30, so I still have time to find the actual address.

Taking the note out again I check the address one more time. There is absolutely no way that the elusive Sector 13 is a fucking night club. But the address is the same on the paper, 601 North Venton.

 Sighing, I walk over to the front of the line where the bouncer stands. He turns to me and looks me up and down. I know I look out of place. Standing head to toe in a black suit, I look more like I'm about to go to the met, instead of a sticky club.

Not feeling like having a conversation with the mood I'm in, I simply look at his mind. It's easy, but basically useless, memories of his family, school, and working. I'm about to walk away when I see a flash of a red sigil, the exact one on the back of the paper. I pull it out and show it to him and without a word, he gives me a nod and steps aside.

Stepping through the club doors felt like a whole different world. The temperature rose at least 30 degrees, blinding lights of blue, purple, and red shine in my eyes. It's so dark you can't make anyone's face out clearly, and you can't take a step without bumping into someone. The music is so loud it shakes the whole building, I can literally feel the beat through the floor.

The club is big, huge actually, with the entire layout being a dance floor. Looking straight ahead is a stage that takes up the entire back wall, littered with unused instruments, and 4 poles, two on each side. On the right is the bar, taking up only half of the wall, and the other half is doors leading to God knows what. To the left are booths, hidden in dark alcoves, which I'm sure people have gotten up to no good in more than once. In the back left corner is a staircase heading upstairs, to what I'm assuming is the VIP section.

I feel completely overdressed in my suit, being surrounded with half naked girls everywhere I turn. A few of them noticed my presence and came over and started to dance with me.

Now, normally, I would be all over this shit, but right now I'm not in the mood. Sighing, I go in their heads and make them think that there were more attractive people around that they wanted to dance with, and to forget about me. The response is immediate, and the girls start grinding on other men close by, or in one case, each other.

Deciding to head to the bar, I lower my hand to my waist and subtly flick my finger outward. The bodies create a path for me to walk through untouched, closing back together again when I pass by.

Reaching the bar and finding an unoccupied seat, I call out to the bartender for a coke. Figuring that this place has to do with my new sector, I decide staying sober is the best decision for tonight.

While the bartender hands me my glass, I try his mind to see if he has any useful information, but alas, nothing related to anything I'm searching for.