The city was bright, bright white. The skyscrapers were kept white, the dome above it was shining white from the luminous tiles used to simulate night and day. In contrast the people wore black. Perhaps they did not always wear all black, but some amount of black, usually black 'and then' another color.
Despite the attempts by the authorities to keep their little cage bright and happy, one would, could barely see anyone smiling. It did not matter if they were on their smart devices, their phones, their glasses with augmented realities, so on and so forth. Most people drudged along, knowing they were being monitored by the obscene number of cameras about the city, on the streets, in their cars, and many suspected in their homes.
The woman sat in her limo, wearing a black skirt and business attire. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes. She was pretty, from all the make she wore, and the effort she made to be pretty. Her foot kept tapping the ground, making her leg quake as she nervously waited and kept reminding herself not to bite her nails when she tasted the nail polish and finish on her tongue.
On the screen that had opened down from the roof of the limo, she saw news reports. It showed imaged of bipedal machines, with cockpits and weapons like missiles pods, gatling guns and lasers, marching on their two legs across the desert. There was a war going on.
Finally her watched beeped, and a red light flashed. She immediately put on her glasses to see holographic displays, of a map.
"Stop...!" She shouted, and the driver hit the brakes. She got out onto the sidewalk of the rather vacant streets. She was unfamiliar with this neighborhood, but she was following the map. She walked down the block to one specific apartment complex. She walked up the flight of stairs and entered, and everything was different.
Instead of white tiles and chrome, everything was dark timber. Instead of synthetic materials, there were pictures in wooden frames, upholstery and old, ancient light bulbs burning. Instead of people wearing black, they wore any and every color but that. She could not imagine the number of violations were committed by their dress, nor did she want to bother to count. What she wanted was one person specifically.
She followed her map, up the creaky stairs and past more guests drinking some golden concoction she had never seen before. She did not bother to ask, she instead made her way to the room at the top of the stairs, above which was a clock with a time of just past eleven. In front of it was a large fellow. He had dark skin, and seemed to be the only one wearing black. He wore shades, and had his hair braided back. He stopped her
"Do you not know who I am...?" she shouted. He said nothing "Listen you big lummox, be thankful I don't turn you lot in for all of these violations, now you will move..." He simply raised an eyebrow. "I am Daphne Mire, Secretary of Lord President Dante, and you will move before I..."
"Let her in..." said a voice, a deep voice, yet it was a woman's. The guard moved to the side and she entered. The room inside was one large circle, with three chairs in the middle. Around the edges were purple curtains, and incense candles, and the shadows and moans of people occupying the spaces in the walls, save for the one curtain that was opened, and showed a bed in the wooden walls themselves.
In the middle of the room were three chairs, sofas like cheap thrones, where three individuals sat. In the middle, directly facing the door and backing the open curtain, was a man in grey. He wore a vest, over a shirt and trousers, old fashioned, but with a long light grey jacket, shade lighter than the rest of his dark clothes. His skin was pale, almost like a corpse, or perhaps just like one, because Daphne could see veins of a greenish color, but they were mostly hidden behind the scarf that wrapped around the lower half of his face a few times too many. It was the color of lavender, or perhaps lilacs she thought . His hair was as a grey and it was hard to tell in the dark, where his scalp ended and his neck began, while his eyes seemed to glow, like fire shining through amethysts.
On the left was an Asian fellow, with wild unkempt hair which was any color, though perhaps it would've been easier to list the colors it didn't have. His eyes glowed a bright emerald green, and had a mad look about his countenance, whether it was insanity or too much energy, it was hard to tell while he sat there 'calmly'. He wore blue jeans with tears in them and was the only one not wear black leather shoes, instead sneakers. His arms sported too many accessories to count and he wore a grey shirt with a yellow oval in the middle where a black symbol, like a bat was located. Despite his get up, the thing that drew her attention was the green sash around his waist.
The last one was different from the Asian, as he was from the one in the dark, but all three sat in the same position, arms on their chair arms like kings on their cheap, cheap thrones. The only woman among them, she had tanned skin, long red hairand wore black, dark leather, which honestly looked like something a dominatrix would wear, were it not for the fact that it covered her entire body. Her hair was dark, but it sported hues of red, and she wore a crimson trench coat. She was Amazonian with her clearly defined curvaceous build not hidden by the dark leather or the dim light level. She wore shades, which did little to hide what seemed to be golden embers glowing in her eye sockets.
"Miss Helion...!" Daphne shouted "What are you doing here, the Lord President has been calling for you, we have to go now...!" She said as she tugged on her arm. Helion seemed to weigh a tonne as she sat there without effort, unmoved.
"Who is your friend...?" asked the Asian boy, looking at her like a hungry jackal.
"The Lord President's secretary..." said Helion, while Daphne immediately hid behind her.
"Oh, and why is she crashing Z's party...?"
"Z...?" asked Daphne.
"The other fellow..." said Helion.
"Miss Helion, what is this gathering...?"
"This..." said Z, with a whispering voice that was somehow audible "is an End Party..."
"End Party...?"
"End of the World..."
