[h3]The walk to District Four - Paved with lights[/h3]
Leon felt a terrible emptiness in his step, a sort of weight that seemed to pull his entire body down with it. Each footfall seemed to take more and more effort to conduct, though still he pushed on. His general movements seemed...cumbersome; difficult. While his left arm swayed as it normally should, his right suffered from an apparent lack of movement, looking more like a dangling vestige as opposed to a regular arm. Getting used to an augmentation was one thing; but masquerading it as organic was entirely another. 

Leon wasn't sure which direction he was headed to, or why, but his current path was taking him directly to District Four. The walk was relatively short enough, and gave him ample time to think while keeping him within the bounds of Zone Alpha. 

There was hardly a night sleeping that wasn't plagued with nightmares, and it began taking its toll on Leon. Truth and fiction melded together into a horrific amalgam of fear and panic. This time was no exception. The fire, the explosion, they were real -- but what else was truth; and what else was fiction? It made his head hurt thinking about it. 

His walk eventually took him within the heart of District 4, the picturesque image of New Ancora was quite apparent here. The immaculate buildings, clean streets and sidewalks, well-lit roads, advanced technology...This was the New Ancora so many came to see - yet only so few reached. 

The Old World soon manifested in Leon's mind, the history of the world [i]before[/i] New Ancora...before whatever was Outside. It was called the..."Civil War," the great nation of America divided itself into two halves, the North and the South; a dissipation of their Union, a cry for states rights. Leon could almost see it unfold here now...Zone Beta crying for help, desperate for rights it did not have, forced to look toward the horizon and see only the massive skyscrapers of Alpha blocking their view. 

How long would it be before the City tore itself apart? A New Civil War raging in the streets. Sure, the City [i]looked[/i] prosperous, [i]looked[/i] successful; but cleanliness was merely a facade. It can't show you what's underneath the fancy clothes, underneath the well-maintained skin, behind the deceptive eyes. The City was a machine, and operated on strict order. The illusion of democracy and freedom was maintained, so long as no one spoke up about it. Here they all were - free to live their lives, until their lives interfered. 

Leon almost smirked at the thought, one of those hollow, mocking smiles that held no ounce of amusement or joviality. When your life and your world is in the hands of another person, an institute: what else is there to do but laugh? 

Leon's smirk soon faded, replaced with a subtle but noticeable wince. A dead ring began to set itself in the back of his head, giving him pause. 

Not here...not now. 

The ringing was merely a warning, a cautionary for what was to come. Sure enough, within less than a minute, the ringing began to turn into grinding pain. His ears were filled with static, and his vision turned blurry; distorted: He was underwater. 

Quickly scanning his immediate vicinity for somewhere, anywhere to sit down, Leon spotted a park bench not far from him. Staggering with each step and barely resisting the urge to vomit he practically collapsed into the seat, his left hand placed firmly against his temple. Migraines...All he could do was wait it through and try not to pass out. 

His right hand felt through the contents of his jacket, trying desperately to find his flask, to no avail. Drunkenness or not, he needed a damn drink. 

Cursing under his breath, Leon tilted his head back, shutting his eyes tightly for the long-haul. He didn't care who saw him, all he cared about was staying awake - staying conscious. 

The abuse of sleep would come later.