The District (Unfiltered Mess Rewrite)

Prologue

"So, how about we get started?!" The reporter spoke in yet cheerful voice. He had a notepad lying open in front of him, pen poised to begin writing anything and everything I said. He was hunched forward slightly in the rigid metal chair he occupied, elbows resting on the dark imitation oak table. I shifted slightly in the metal chair I sat in, the cold material preventing me from finding comfort.

I nodded. "Let's."

He pressed the start button on the tape recorder to his right. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"So, Kyden Fosters, tell me, when do you think Amery International's new tactical prosthetic will be released to the public?"

"Well, to be honest, it's hard to say when exactly it will be ready," the reporter's pen glided across his notepad with a faint Scritch Scratch as I spoke. "Over at Amery, we're running into problems left and right." Scritch

He looked up from his pad and to me.

"Care to share some examples?"

"Well," I stopped for a moment to recall some of the more recent problems that wouldn't get me in trouble. "Last week, the battery unit didn't provide enough power for the cannons to work correctly, then, this last Monday, the nerve interface wasn't connecting to the nerves of our test dummy."

He nodded as he wrote on his pad. Scritch Scratch. Scriiiiitch Scrratch. "Do you think it will be ready in time for the launch date 3 months from now?"

"I believe it will."

He nodded once again. "Okay. I think that just about wraps up my questions for this topic, do you mind if we move focus to a different topic?"

"Not at all."

"Good, many of Neon District's residents have questions or heard rumors about a certain incident with the West Side Fire Dragons."

I frowned slightly at the mention of the syndicates. The syndicates in Neon District are ruthless, evil, and downright sinister. They form in groups of anywhere from six members to hundreds, usually hidden or on the down low. Each individual group is always taking claim to a section of the city. Which specific section is often indicated in a group's name along with what is believed to be the leader's favorite animal. Like the Sewer Realm Rats, The East Side Tigers, and The West Side Fire Dragons. The West Side Fire Dragons, or WSFD, are the most powerful syndicate group in Neon District and the richest. The WATCH, the city security, can't touch them, or more of their leader, Ryuu Nazuka, because they have no dirt on him. I don't exactly have a good relationship with the WSFD.

I began to speak when the reporter interrupted me.

"But first, about five days ago, The Neon Gazette dubbed you Amery's "Prize Employee" and "Employee of the Year". Do you believe that the title fits?"

I scratched the nape of my neck. "I wouldn't say I'm "Employee of the Year". I know I'm good at my job, but I'm not that good." I chuckled slightly.

"There is no need for modesty."

"Really, I don't think it fits."

"If you say so." Scritch Scraaatchh. "Now, to the hottest new thing everyone is talking about. As you know, about four months ago on August second, the WATCH apprehended over half of the members of the notorious West Side Fire Dragons."

I nodded slowly, dreading what this was leading up to.

"Not even three days before this, you practically fell off the face of the Earth. Now, many speculate that the two events are linked."

"What do you mean by linked?" I asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

"Well, one theory is that you were the hostage the WSFD were threatening."

"Is that the only theory?"

"There are many others but that is the one that makes the most sense."

I nodded.

"So, is this theory even remotely true?"

I stayed silent, weighing my options. I didn't want to lie anymore but I also didn't want the media all over me.

Think about Derek.

The thought pierced my mind like an arrow pierces a buck. I was the only civilian who knew about him. I knew I wanted to change that.

I took a deep breath.

"Yes. It is true. It is the exact truth."