The tale of Cyberia

Imagine a world, where imagination is illegal. A world where the few people who can dream are hunted like animal, in a world made of metal, in a sociaty controlled of a single man. A city where everything you do is registered and filed. Art is non-existing, music is non-existing. Love is non-existing.

In this vast world of control, the few dreams that exist, can come to life.

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2. Chapter One "Exotic spices"

"Why would you even consider that?" I almost screamed. I could feel a headache coming.
He shrugged off my outburst, like a grain of dust on his hardened leather west.
"i really don't have time to argue now, we're almost out of time, it has to be done now".
"Like i give a shit" i yelled, "you're staying right here, with me".

We were in our apartment, the familiar smell of exotic spices hung in the air, normally it calmed me, i used to sit and guess what spices had been used last, i had become quite good at it. But today there were no guessing anything. He was standing at the door, ready to leave, even though i told him to stay.
He was dressed in his usual adventure gear, cloth pants, black leather boots, a leather belt full of different items of different kinds, his cloth shirt and the hardened leather vest of course. I couldn't remember a time when he hadn't worn that on a mission. His hair was spiky and lodged between some sticky strands of hair were a pair of old fashioned motor goggles, similar to the vest he always wore these on a mission. His green eyes looked at me with the same tolerance you have when you look at a stubborn child who lost its doll, and is now crying because it never got to feed her.

"Of course not" he said, in a voice that made me feel like a moron, "it has to be done".
Of course it had to be done, i knew it had to, i also knew why he was the one to do it, he was the only one who could, but i asked the next question anyways.
"But why does it have to be you?", i starred at him, he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, "you know why" he said with a dull voice, i kept starring at him.
"Im the only one with the right set of skills" he said, almost apoligegilcy.
I gave up, there were no reasoning with him, he was stubborn and he wanted to go.
I sighed, deeply, "fine, go then", he smiled and turned. "But", his shoulder fell and he sighed, "what" he asked with fear in his voice, "if you're not back here in exactly 48 hours, I'm never letting it go.
He blinked at me and said "of course, before he went out the door.
I could hear him going down the stairs, i could hear the door open, then slam closed and i could the the hum from the engine on his repulsion bike.

That was the last time i ever saw him.

I turned around and marched back into the house, through the white interior of our living room. Normally i would have stopped and looked at the beautiful painting on the wall, but today i resigned to glance at it as i walked past, it was his painting after all, and the tears in my eyes probably wouldn't like me starring, at the only sign of him ever being here.. I walked through the door opposite of the door he'd went out of, opened it, and entered the kitchen. Clean on a level where even biological laboratories could't compete. I ran through, hardly noticing even being there, and almost kicked in the door to the bedroom, where i collapsed on the bed and buried my face in the pillows, slamming my fists and feet into the sheets, ruining the otherwise wonderful bed. I wasn't really mad at him, or anyone in fact. I was mostly frustrated about the situation, he wasn't supposed to just leave me like this.
I stopped raging and resigned to pull the blanket up over my head, shutting out the world. Maybe if i acted hard-to-get, it would be more inclined to give me a god time.
I closed my eyes, shutting of the inevitable tears. I hated crying. Almost as much as i hated myself for not being able to force him to stay with me.

That hate was going to be severely boosted later on.

My eyelids grew heavy and my thoughts started going in circles. Thoughts like, will he ever return? will he be the same if he does? will he succeed?. As my eyes closed, a single thought managed to persist, and i fell asleep thinking that i had lost him forever.
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