It all started with a revolution. It was a small thing. Most people don't even realize it happened. It started with the corporations taking over tasks the government didn't want to do. Within years it was common for those same corporations to dictate policy. Soon, government became obsolete. Oh, sure. It's still there, but it's run by the biggest baddest company there is. Hera Corp. With their victory they began advancing new radical technologies. It's them you thanks when you plug yourself into the internet. It's them you love when you replace your real eyes for robotic replications. It's them you praise when your A.I. robot does all the mundane work for you and you can lay about and watch TV.
But some of us, out here, on the edge of life know better. They control you. They dictate your actions. You are slaves. But us? We fight them. We use their weapons against them. One day we'll be free again.
"Hey there little brother." A familiar lovely voice echoed in the little boy's head.
"Lydia! You're back!" Small arms encircled his older sister. Too small of hands for a twenty-year old but not for the little fourteen year old he once was. "How did it go?"
His older sister fluffed her neon pink and purple hair. ""Just like always. You hungry?" She was always quick to change the subject. He shook his head wordlessly. He remembered this. This was the day she died. But he couldn't say a word.
"I have to go back out. You'll be a good boy right?" Lydia ruffled his brown hair before pulling down a box of microwaveable mac-&-cheese.
"I'll be good." There was a slight pout in his voice. Why couldn't he had asked her to stay?
"Right." Lydia said as she finished making him dinner. I'll be home before you know it. The door to the small apartment had turned a terrifying red color while she had been talking. Little Leon tried to tell her not to go, but she walked towards it without noticing the smoke pouring out from under the door or the heat. NO. He thought in his mind as she opened the door and was engulfed by flames.
Leon awoke with a shout. He was sitting up in bed, tangled in his sheets and covered in sweat. Always the same nightmare. It had been six years, but still the same dream. A dream of fire and burning. It was all made up of course. Lydia had left him at home. It wasn't until he had turned on the television the next morning he realized she was dead. The small club the resistance operated out of had been burned to the ground. All fourteen members of the resistance had died. Not the that TV said what they really were. They were just unfortunate clubbers that died from a freak accident.
After Leon saw the news he knew they were going to come after him next. He had ran. And ran. And ran. He still hadn't stopped running. Not yet. Right now he was in a dirty run down apartment in the heart of LA. Off to the left of the bed was the blue glow of his computer, humming along happily. To the right was the door to the apartment and a small bathroom.
Leon ducked into the small bathroom for a quick shower and shave. His roots on his platinum hair were showing a little he observed as he toweled dried in front of the mirror. His black eyes stared back at him. They were eerie, always unchangeable. He hated them. Lydia had black eyes too. He tossed the towel into the shower and stalked back to get dressed.
Leon quickly disassembled his computer setup and stored it into his duffle bag. He left the key to the room with the counter boy and left in search for breakfast. He stopped at a promising cafe. He sat down at an outside table, ordered a coffee and a waffle and sat back to watch traffic go by.