Lohan stood motionless under the metal shelter at the bus stop for exactly twenty-five minutes.
For an ordinary human, the wait at the border between Sector 1 and the residential waterfront of the Upper Zone would be an exercise in anxiety, after all, the person would likely be there for unconventional reasons, but for Lohan, that time was filled with a keen analysis of his surroundings.
He was leaning against a support pillar, his heavy backpack on his shoulders.
The air in that area was "sweet" compared to the smog of Sector 4, but it still carried a dirty remnant of the industrial zones surrounding the purification domes.
All around him, the flow of pedestrians never stopped.
They were citizens inhabiting the lowest rung of the Upper Zone pyramid, mid- or lower-level corporate employees, heirs to decaying lineages, or former residents of the Lower Zone who had spent their entire lives saving to rent a cubicle of a few square meters where the air didn’t sting their eyes, but who still had to take a bus to get to work.
Several of these people, dressed in smart suits that gleamed under the pale sun of Eden-3, cast looks of disdain and suspicion in Lohan’s direction.
He wore the faded black hoodie and standard protective overcoat of the Lower Zone, an outfit that reeked of defeat to those desperately struggling not to fall back into the social abyss.
[Visual Representation Here and on Discord.gg/NunuXD]
"Look at that..." a woman murmured to her companion as she passed Lohan, instinctively clutching her purse to her body. "These rats are coming up higher and higher. The Federation should ban them from getting off the bus outside their destination."
The man beside her, who wore a fake gold nose filter, shot a look of disgust at Lohan. "To be honest, this kind of people ruins the aesthetics of the sector. They bring the filth of the Lower Zone on their clothes... who knows what kind of respiratory diseases this kid is spreading around here right now?"
Lohan heard every word.
Thanks to his Instinctive Perception, their whispers were crystal clear. However, he showed no reaction.
Beneath the black mask, a wry smile, laced with cold amusement, appeared on his face.
He knew what they didn’t know.
He knew that, qualitatively, he inhabited a level of existence they couldn’t even dream of.
While they saw him as a beggar, Lohan sat atop a fortune of legal and illegal credits, possessed the physical power of a mythical Level 12 predator, and if he wanted to, he could activate his Killing Intent and make the heart of every one of those passersby falter with sheer terror, or effortlessly hurl Ice Spikes through the buildings they so loved to inhabit.
’It’s ironic... they despise me to feel superior, but every second I spend here, my presence purifies the air around them more than the corporate filters they pay half their salaries for...’ Lohan thought, realizing that the biomass he absorbed from the air was subtly increasing due to the mere concentration of people nearby.
So he restrained himself, slowing his digestion rate to avoid drawing any attention, allowing the filth to permeate the air once more.
Surprisingly, people noticed the concentration of pollution in the air rising through their visors and assumed that "dirty kid from the slums" was the one bringing in that filth, when in reality he had merely stopped cleaning.
Suddenly, the sound of a flying vehicle’s turbines changed pitch.
A flying police car, painted in the aggressive cobalt blue of Federal Security, slowed down and banked toward the bus stop.
The red and blue warning lights flashed, reflecting off the windows of nearby stores.
Pedestrians quickly made way, some stopping to watch the scene with morbid curiosity, hoping to see the "rat from the Lower Zone" deal with this problem.
Even the people who had come from the Lower Zone watched this "spectacle" with great satisfaction, happy not to be on the other side again and reveling in being treated like nobility.
The vehicle’s doors opened with a hydraulic hiss, and from there two officers stepped out, their hands resting on the holsters of their heavy kinetic pistols.
The older officer, a man with a ruddy face and small eyes, strode toward Lohan with arrogance, indicating that he rarely needed to justify his actions to anyone of a lower class.
The younger officer, with a sneering smile, stopped a few meters away, blocking any escape route."Hey, kid. Hands where I can see them, now!" the older officer commanded, his voice coming out harshly through the mask’s speaker. "Biometric identification and reason for being in this sector.
You’ve been standing here for twenty-five minutes, and my behavioral sensor has detected anomalies in your posture."
Lohan slowly pulled his hands away from the walls and raised them to shoulder height, remaining humble but not subservient. He didn’t lower his chin, and his blue eyes, now calm and deep, stared at the officer through the slits in the mask.
Even while carrying an illegal weapon and a clearly suspicious amount of cash, Lohan remained calm and showed no sign of panic.
"I’m just waiting for a ride, officer," Lohan replied, his voice sounding steady and controlled thanks to his Structural Stability. "My papers are in order, and my college status allows me free movement between sectors."
"College? Coming from the Lower Zone?" the younger officer sneered, stepping closer and tapping Lohan’s arm with his baton.
The impact struck Lohan’s skin, but what the officer felt wasn’t the soft flesh of a malnourished student; it was as if he’d struck a rubber-coated concrete pillar. He frowned, confused for a moment. "You look way too well-fed for someone from the slums, kid. What’s in that backpack? A stash of Dream Mist or a stolen shipment from some law-abiding citizen?"
"Open the backpack.
Now." The older officer ordered, his patience wearing thin. "If you don’t cooperate, I’ll take you to the station for ’deep processing.’ You know how the cleaning is done there, right? No one of your ilk leaves there without a few missing teeth and a tarnished record."
Around them, the crowd began to murmur. "I knew he was a criminal," said a young man in a gray suit, stopping to film the scene with his cell phone, since even in this area, most people still used cell phones instead of optical holographic devices. "They come here to steal data terminals from the waterfront. It’s always the same thing."
"Take him away already," shouted a middle-aged woman. "We pay security taxes so we don’t have to see this kind of people near our homes!"
Lohan felt the officers’ pulse quicken.
They were excited.
The act of intimidating someone they considered defenseless was the only moment when they felt the true power of the Human Federation flowing through their veins. The younger officer reached out to grab the strap of Lohan’s backpack, but stopped mid-motion.
A deep, guttural sound began to descend from the sky.
It wasn’t the irritating buzz of police patrols or the hiss of flying public transit buses. It was the roar of something truly powerful, a sound that vibrated in the bones of everyone present.
From above the polluted clouds, a blinding white glow cut through the morning fog.
A white Ferrari, with a chassis sculpted into aerodynamic curves that, though vintage, only made the body even more beautiful and classic, descended vertically.
The vehicle executed a perfect landing maneuver, touching down silently just a few meters from the bus stop, taking up half the sidewalk and blocking the path of the police patrol car.
The silence that followed was shocking.
Pedestrians froze in their tracks, their recording cell phones slowly lowering. The hatred on their faces was replaced by blind adoration and reverent dread.
In that part of the world, seeing a luxury Ferrari wasn’t just seeing an expensive car; it was like witnessing the physical manifestation of the power that ruled the planet.
The officers, who seconds earlier had been puffing out their chests to intimidate Lohan, underwent a pathetic transformation.
The older officer jumped back, holstering his baton and straightening his uniform with trembling hands.
The younger one turned pale, the arrogance vanishing from his face as if it had never existed.
They puffed out their chests and straightened their posture, keeping their hands away from their weapons and in an official at-ease position, trying to project the image of diligent guards who were merely maintaining order for the arrival of high-ranking officials.
No one got out of the Ferrari immediately.
The tinted windows blocked any view of the interior, but the aura of authority the vehicle exuded was overwhelming for the ordinary people present.
The atmosphere grew tense, as if the air had suddenly been pressurized.Lohan, however, was the only one who didn’t change his posture.
He looked at the glare reflecting off the white hood with a hint of amusement in his blue eyes. Through the holographic interface installed in his left eye, he saw a message pop up.
[Lisa: I’m here.]
’To be honest, she really knows how to make an entrance...’ Lohan thought, letting out a sigh of relief that was muffled by his mask.
He glanced at the senior officer, who was now sweating beneath his visor, looking back and forth between Lohan and the Ferrari, mentally praying that the "rat" he was humiliating had no connection to the owner of that vehicle.
"Looks like my ride has arrived, officers," Lohan said in a calm tone, Halon’s authority seeping through his human voice for the first time that morning. "Do you still need to see what’s in my backpack, or can I go now?"
The officer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, while the Ferrari’s engine emitted a final gasp of energy, preparing to open the gull-wing door.